Page 111 of Blackheart

Bladebreathers.

Amzee had said it herself. Why wasn’t the council more worried about recruiting riders instead of endless days of practicing swordcraft?

I slid to the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes and glancing out of the large arched window. Light twinkled throughout the capital and into Bastard’s Bay. The moon sat high above, peeking through long, wispy clouds.

I must have slept for a while. It was late enough that Xavian would surely be home. Without the pressure of the rest of the council, maybe we could figure out a plan to recruit more riders.

I threw on a pair of soft black pants and a violet sweater, and hurried down the stairs.

A candle burned on the dining room table, flickering shadows and warm glows against the charcoal walls. Two dirty dinner plates were abandoned in the kitchen sink.

He had eaten and was not alone. The fireplace in the living room still burned, and several whiskey glasses were left on the coffee table, ice nearly melted.

Muffled voices echoed off the walls, but it was difficult to identify where they were coming from. I followed the sounds all the way to an open window behind the couch.

Just above the living room, Xavian was in a heated debate with a woman. They must have been on his bedroom balcony.

“You cannot do this!” The woman angrily sobbed.

Xavian sighed. “Fiera, I have told you before. This is my duty. It’s a sacrifice I am making for you and everyone else in Castivian.”

“I do not care about duty or sacrifice! I’d sooner pray for Delaina’s good health before I would want you to marry some Lestivian whore on the grounds of politics. After three winters, I should be the one you’re marrying. Not her!”

Oh.

It was about the marriage thing.

I had been avoiding thinking about my own arranged marriage. I certainly hadn’t considered Xavian’s.

“It’s not about what you want,” Xavian interrupted another sob. “I love my people, and I will not let my own desires keep me from winning this war.”

“Then what about me?” she screeched. The pain in her voice was the kind only love could cause.

“What do you mean?”

I wanted to smack my brother in the back of the head for asking such a stupid question in response to a simple one.

“What happens to me? What happens tousafter they ship your bride here? You say you love your people, but what about me?”

I held my breath as a heated silence filled the air.

“You will be my past, Fiera. I will be a married man and a busy king with a war to win.”

I pressed my palm over my mouth and took a step back from the window. I could not bear listening any longer. Instead, I went to the kitchen and cleaned their dinner plates, then the whiskey glasses. And when that was done, I scrubbed the counters—anything to distract myself.

Anythingto drown out the unbearable cries of heartbreak.

Xavian was sacrificing his relationship with Lady Fiera for his arranged marriage, while I paid mine no regard, wanting Riven.

Saying it, even to myself, felt dirty. The man who had been intimate with my best friend, the knight loyal to my brother, a knight under my employ that would soon have to serve my own husband. I felt sick.

A knock at the door rang out against the wreckage in my mind. I set down the cleaning rag and hurried to answer it.

“Riven?”

He stood with black roses in hand.

“I know you had a hard time today, and you’ll probably think I’ve gone mad, but I thought you might like these. You cannot kill them with your Nature. They’re special, like y-”