Page 135 of Blackheart

I was unsure of what to say. Too many thoughts came to mind, racing through me like a tornado.

“I do realize the stakes,” I said, “and I care very much about winning this war. I actually know people in the Waywards. My friends were killed by Sapphires.”

“Then act like it,” she demanded, pointing her finger one last time. Then she straightened her posture and patted her dress down with gloved hands.

My face heated with overwhelming embarrassment. I wanted so badly to be someone that other people would be proud of, but the more I chased that feeling, the further it was from my reach.

Everyone but Jocelynn awkwardly looked away as I stood and dismissed myself to take a bath. There was nothing left to say.

Xavian, Riven, and the rest of the council proceeded with planning, while Lady Jocelynn left. I watched from my bathroom window as she got into her carriage. It almost looked like she wiped away a tear, but I knew better.

While she may not have cried, I did. By the time I was ready to get out of the tub, the water was stained pitch black.

I ran a second bath and washed up with fresh water. I cleaned my face, braided my hair, and tossed on a white nightdress with thin straps. I spent the rest of the day taking Lady Jocelynn’s suggestion: reading. Tomorrow was the long-awaited meeting, and I’d educate myself as much as possible on Castivian before then.

What was my betrothed like? Was he wondering about me, too? I fell asleep in the late afternoon, dreaming of thick clouds and dreadful storms whisking me away to an imaginary land where I didn’t make so many mistakes and didn’t feel so much pain.

Chapter 40

The Pell

“Rumor has it that several of society’s elite will be arriving in Eiden within the coming days. Merchants and hosts are advised to prepare their establishments accordingly.”

—The Castivian Chronicle, most recent issue

I didn’t bother pickingout a dress in the morning, though I was sad to pass up several of my new ones. Instead, I dressed practically, in a long-sleeved black shirt with matching pants and boots, and tied my hair back in a lousy bun. Singer and the orb were clipped at each hip. Leaving them behind wasn’t a mistake I would make again.

Slipping out of the house at dawn, cool morning air and salt from the sea filled my nose. The longer I lived in Castivian, the more it smelled like home. I held onto that feeling, letting it fester into hope. I never wanted to breathe in the death and decay of the Waywards again, and if we won the war to come, I’d never have to.

Nodding to the Blademan posted outside the house, I took off down the street in a quiet jog. I despised running, but I wouldgive everything to never see the disappointment in the eyes of Xavian, Riven, or Lady Jocelynn ever again.

In the evening, all the lords in Castivian would arrive in the capital to attend Xavian’s meeting. My betrothed included. I was equally as nervous as I was intrigued to be introduced to him. Navigating my relationship with Riven would be the most challenging part; surely my betrothed had his own baggage to be attended to as well. Political marriages were common. There was nothing to get worked up about.

While I had no actual destination, I kept jogging, letting my mind wander free. I ran when I could and walked when I couldn’t. My chest burned, but I knew once I’d gone far enough, I would have no choice but to run the whole way back. Determination, anger, and resentment towards myself was the only fuel I needed.

When I finally made it back home, breakfast was being prepared by Juni, one of the cooks. She smiled at me, far more energetic than I was.

“Oh good, at least one of you will be eating. Your brother already went to the training grounds. Must have a lot of energy to get out before the big meeting!” she beamed, brushing dough with butter.

I needed to get to the training grounds too, but didn’t want to disappoint Juni by rushing off. She’d been working so hard on this meal.

“Thank you for preparing food this early. Can I help with anything?”

She laughed herself damn near to tears and adamantly refused. Everyone seemed to be keeping me away from the kitchen ever since I’d made a foul-smelling, overcooked soup a few days ago.

As she finished preparing breakfast, I sat at the dining room table, mindlessly studying a map of Castivian. Hopefully, the pieces would click into place.

Once the food was ready, I invited Juni to join me at the table, but she, of course, declined. Picking up my plate, I excused myself to the ocean-facing terrace, barely making it to the table before scarfing down a flaky croissant.

Sitting outside was bittersweet. Lady Jocelynn hadn’t invited me to tea overlooking the training grounds like she usually would. She’d probably be uninterested in my company for several days, if not longer. Whether or not she was involved in the meeting later, I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was it would begin an hour before sundown at the House of Sterling, in the same meeting hall where members of the brotherhood were initiated.

Lady Jocelynn had told me plenty about it. It was the oldest room in the kingdom, built by the first bastard to ever rule. The rest of the House of Sterling had been constructed around it.

After breakfast, I went straight to the training grounds, ignoring blank stares as I crossed the yard wearing pants instead of my usual dresses.

Riven had a new group of initiates, so I did my best not to draw his attention. I passed quietly by, then past another practicing group, not bothering to join them. Instead, I went to the far back corner where the children fought ferociously one another with wooden pells.