Page 124 of Blackheart

I clasped my hands together and smiled at Riven. “Well, there’s nowhere to hide in Hell. Let’s leave the king be.”

Xavian winced at the formality, but did not argue. Referring to him as my brother, or even by his first name aloud, was still foreign. He’d once been merely a noble to me, so far out of reach from my circle. Now the famed figure was my own twin. It was an adjustment, to say the least.

More importantly than formalities and titles, Xavian was exhausted. He had been working day and night on plans and preparations for the meeting. The last thing he would want to do is come to the theater to listen to Lady Jocelynn talk. He was exposed to enough of that already.

The carriage waiting outside was stunning.

Shiny and black, with large wheels and a sizable cab. Swirls had been carved along the side, just below iron-twisted designs of bladebreather wings. There were no horses or reins. Only two men in fine clothing sitting on the front bench.

Riven smirked. “Have you never seen Lady Jocelynn’s carriages? Your brother has one similar.”

I shook my head. “How does it move? Where are the horses?”

“Don't need them.”

Riven opened the door for me, his pupils dilating as he glanced down at my dress.

I gathered the skirt once more, climbing inside, where the bench seats were cushioned with dark emerald velvet pillows, and heavy black curtains framed the windows. Riven slid in across from me, trying to hold back a smile.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Just you.”

“What about me?”

“How absurdly beautiful you are.”

I tilted my head down, hiding the heat rising to my face. “Oh. Thank you.”

The carriage took off. I scooted closer to the window, pulling back the curtain.

“Are we being pushed?”

Riven laughed. “No. It’s the Stonesenders, Jon and Morgan, at the front. They’re taking turns wielding their Nature. The wind they create propels us forward, and they’ve got a lever in between them to take turns steering. Swapping back and forth keeps them from burning out.”

“Your brother invented it, actually,” he continued. “He first learned how to infuse armor and weapons with different Natures, then he moved on to other inventions. He’s gotten quite experimental over the years.”

I’d known Xavian spent a lot of time training, planning, and throwing daggers at people. I knew nothing of his inventions, nor experimenting. I didn’t even realize he had weaponsinfusedwith Nature. “I would never have thought of such a clever way to use a Stonesender’s Nature,” I said.

That’s why it was so easy for Xavian to brush me off about finding my purpose. He was good at everything.

I let go of the curtain and situated myself in my seat. Riven’s legs were comfortably sprawled in front of him, and he had an elbow propped on the window. I wanted to crawl onto his lap and make an heir right then and there. As a bastard myself, I was perfectly fine keeping the tradition going.

“Have you ever been to one of Lady Jocelynn’s shows?” I asked, containing myself.

“I have not.”

“Then why were you so adamant on judging it?”

“Because she’s boasted about it enough times at the dinner table for me to know she doesn’t discuss politics or injustices on a regular schedule.”

Dinner table.

The years before the existence of the Waywards, when Riven lived in Castivian, they’d all had normal lives. Eating dinner together and attending council meetings that had nothing to do with war.

I tried imagining it. Xavian, Riven, Lady Jocelynn, and the rest of the council. Atdinner parties,simply enjoying life away from the mother kingdom. They were all willing to give up that peace for the greater good.

The carriage ride was smooth. The outside world got louder the further into the capital we went. Beyond the taverns, port, and brothels, we rode down streets with two-story townhouses and manors with so much property space, there were front yards. There were restaurants with people eating on the roof under the starlit sky, shops that had closed for the evening, and jovial music coming from the window of a lounge.