Page 109 of Blackheart

“I don’t like this,” I mumbled.

“You don’t have to do it,” Riven said, just loud enough for my ears.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” My response was the opposite. Brash and loud enough that it would be difficult for neighboring traineesnotto overhear us.

I was tired of being useless. I hated trying to use a sword.Reallyhated it. I also hated watching others practice, unless it was Riven.

Even so, my helplessness was mortifying when everyone else adapted quickly, especially the children. If there was going to bea war, then there would be swords. If I didn’t know how to use a sword, then there would be no use for me beyond marriage, but… was that all I would do? Was it terrible to be disappointed with that?

I wanted marriage and children, yes. But living in the shadow of my brother's accomplishments felt so… sad.

Riven picked my blade up from the ground and tossed it into a black barrel. My face fell.

“Sorry I wasted your time,” I said.

Perhaps I was better off in the Waywards, sewing and slinging ale and waiting to freeze to death, if I didn't starve first.

His eyes softened, voice still quiet. “You saved yourself more than once. You savedus. You have survived every bad day you’ve ever had, and in just the short three years I’ve known you, there have been many, but you haveneverfailed to make it to the next. You are not useless, Elora. You are invaluable, especially to me.”

My eyes darted away.

What was I supposed to say to that?

“I’m going to find a Blackheart to train you,” he decided.

It hit me then who was on the training grounds. There were plenty of other Natured and Natureless.

But no Blackhearts.

Questions flooded my mind like a river, fast-moving and overwhelming.

“Why aren’t there any here now?”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t noticed very many Blackhearts at all since arriving in Castivian.

“Because they don’t want to be, I suppose. Not a single one has signed up for service. Rumor has it, they’ve been moving up north.”

Why in the hell would they be cold by choice?

Riven rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, trying to mask his frustration with silence. He wanted to help me, but had no idea how.

Lady Jocelynn had claimed to have a show. If people in Castivian enjoyed it, maybe she had influence over them. There had to be Blackhearts in the capital. If she could convince them to join the guard, we could figure out how to train ourselves properly.

“Are you two unwell?” Lady Jocelynn interrupted, her plum gown flowing elegantly as she approached.

“I’ll tell you about the Waywards for your show,” I blurted.

“Oh?” Her lips tipped.

“If it’ll convince more people to join the Brotherhood, then yes. If they know what will happen to them if we lose, maybe they’ll fight for it. Especially the Blackhearts.”

She hesitated.

Riven let out a rare chuckle. “Lady Jocelynn’s show is about petty gossip. She doesn’t touch on the subjects that actually matter.”

Her eyes darted up at him, shadows swirling around her ears and wrists. “That’s not true.”

A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of her using my experience in the Waywards as mere gossip. When living there, I never would have imagined that across the Sea of Blades, people would talk about my miserable situation for entertainment.