Page 138 of Blackheart

Chapter 41

The Meeting

“Strange, isn’t it, that Blackhearts can weep? Even their tears run dark, as if their sorrow remembers what they are.”

—Jon Harvington, Golden Scholar of Lyonscliff

The dressthat had been sent to the house was nothing less than a work of art.

“You’ve come quite far.”

I startled at the sound of Jocelynn’s voice.

She stood in the doorway behind me, assessing. Her lips pressed together and her hands folded in front of her.

“Thank you,” I said, turning back to the mirror. Now wasn’t the time for excuses or apologies. Now was the time to pull myself together. To be a princess, whether I knew how or not.

While the skirt was a sleek, night-sky black, the dark corset was made to appear as if slender blades held it together instead of lace. The neckline was high and modest, though sleeveless. I wore black gloves and had styled my own hair, per usual.

My cosmetics were the best I’d done yet. A sharp but short winged eyeliner paired with a shimmery silver eyeshadow. I’d used a neutral-colored gloss on my lips, and a light blush.

“Your brother has a new tiara for you, since you misplaced the last one.”

Guilt trembled through me.

“I didn’t misplace shit, they stole it.”

“Because you left the theater alone,” she fired back.

“Because I witnessed someone fleeing who had murdered people I care about, and I’m not over it. Sorry that for the past three years, I’ve not had the freedom to run where I wish or hold men accountable, but now I can at least try. Even if it makes me look crazy or immature to you.”

Her face tightened. “You’re not in the Waywards anymore,” she said gently, before leaving. A tattooed hand caught the door.

The air seemed to escape the room as we stood across from each other, his eyes admiring me from head to toe.

His shoulders lowered—his gaze soft. I closed the distance between us, reaching my arms out before being swept up in his embrace. I shouldn’t have left the theater, but that didn’t matter now.

Riven held me tightly, his heart beating wildly in his chest as if he was afraid to lose me.

Meeting my betrothed was inevitable. It was not only a duty, but an honor. We both knew it was the right thing to do, and while Iwouldgo through with it, I didn’t want to let Riven go.

He rubbed his thumb along my back. “I’m not sure I can stomach this,” he admitted quietly.

“At least I’m not the one with stomach issues this time,” I joked.

“The princess is irresistibly beautifulandfunny.” He laughed, flopping both of us onto the bed.

I shrieked playfully as we landed. Our eyes were level as we lay on the mattress.

He swallowed, scanned my face solemnly, and ran his thumb down the center of my lip.

Our smiles met as he kissed me, unafraid and unruly. He wasn’t worried about my Nature, my mistakes, or my moods. To feel wanted was intoxicating and addictive. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let this moment go, much less him. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want him to stop kissing me.

But we had to.

I could hear Xavian shouting orders in the hall. He’d be at my door soon.

Riven pressed his lips to mine once more before reluctantly pulling away.