Page 144 of Blackheart

“My father will want us wed before we depart for Drakington,” Ansel said bluntly, rolling up his map.

I’d expected as much.

“It will be arranged in the next few days,” Xavian said, finishing his smoke. “Focus on gathering your crew in the meantime. While you all are absent, myself and the rest of the council will deal with the traitorous holds. They’ll need new leadership, and… remodeling.”

“Alright, enough wedding planning. I’ve got ships to prepare,” Lord Regby announced.

I didn’t give a shit about the wedding. I needed to ready myself for the trip back to Drakington. I also had to inform Amzee and Beck that they’d been selected for a mission that could save thousands.

Chapter 42

The Wilting Silence

“Usurper Xavian Steele and his inkweed sister are murderers! It is said that he unleashed his vile Blackhearted twin upon the Flora Court nobility! She has spilled blood upon the sacred stone of the House of Sterling. She is darkness itself, wicked and without remorse!"

—Kolson Strange, Minister of Spirit

Knock,knock, knock.

Groggy and mentally exhausted, my eyes fluttered open. It was dark, the sky just barely purpling before dawn. Rubbing my face, I forced myself to sit up in bed.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Yes?” I called out, tense.

“Princess Elorengail, you have a guest. He’s taking coffee in the parlor now,” Maya, one of the housekeepers, said through the door.

I relaxed back onto my pillow. It was likely Riven, as he’d promised after the meeting that he would find and deliver my message to Beck and Amzee. The rest of the council didn’t wantto chance anotherPrince Paynsituation with me venturing out into the city.

The decision had been fine with me. The time it would have taken to find them could be used to catch up on reading, since Lady Jocelynn agreed to resume our tea lessons until my departure in a week.

It was impressive, but not surprising, how fast Riven must’ve found Beck and Amzee. I appreciated his efforts, but would’ve appreciated it more if he’d waited until a reasonable hour to tell me.

In my lilac nightgown, I practically dragged myself through the dim hallway and down the stairs.

Sat in a dark armchair across the room was Lord Ansel. He placed his cup down and locked his angular eyes on me.

“Oh, absolutely not,” I said, taking a step back. Having coffee with Lord Ansel at this hour, or in general, was comical.

“We need to talk.”

I scoffed. “No, we don’t. You had plenty of time to talk to me in the Waywards. You could’ve told me who you were.Oryou could’ve told mewho I am, but instead, you played pretend. You forced me to compete for my life at Orb Hazy, then made me feel grateful for your little gifts. I will do my duty and marry you, but I have no interest in speaking with you, especially before sunrise.”

Lord Ansel let the wilting silence linger between us for only a moment.

“I didn’t realize you sleep in now, Blackheart.”

I stilled.

The terrible wintry nights of the Waywards and my dark lonely mornings flooded back to me. I never slept later than dawn while within the obsidian walls.

He didn’t attempt to stop me when I turned away and returned upstairs. I grabbed Singer off of the nightstand, lacedon a pair of boots, and stormed back out, still wearing my nightgown. It was strange to not have the orb clipped at my waist, but worse to know he’d been using it to spy on me all along.

The heavy front door to the house slammed shut behind me. I wanted Ansel toknowI was leaving.

Slivers of burnt orange peeked over the horizon. A Blademan stood in front of a grey and silver horse-drawn carriage at the end of the yard, lantern in hand.

“Princess?” he called out.