Page 80 of Blackheart

Riven led Kostini down the bridge, who greeted me with cheerful neighs and a chipper shoulder sniff. It did not takeRiven long to load our few things up before we took off, riding out on dark stone streets into the city.

Some buildings had stained glass, while others had large round windows, revealing families having their morning meals. I tilted my head curiously at the full plates and laughter.

Further down the street, a woman stood outside of a lilac bakery, propping open a door, letting out scents of coffee and rich chocolate.

Some of the homes were like dark cathedrals with colorful flowers displayed in their yards. Others were more humble buildings, but they were well-maintained all the same.

A crimson puddle gathered beneath a bush.

“Why are those roses blue?” I asked. “And why are they… bleeding?” Blood dripped from their petals, staining the grass red. They were the strangest flowers I’d ever seen.

Riven held back a smile. “It’s that time of month. When I was a child, I was told it’s rude to point out.”

I wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking, but there were too many things to look at to get caught up on the flora.

We passed inns with colorful paintings on the outside of women with fish-like tails, children in little black uniforms walking in groups while discussing school, street vendors setting up for the day while illuminating their stalls with orbs, and a library stacked four stories high.

I’d always been told that Castivian was an unruly land where plenty of Dark Natured worked, but the majority of money was sent to Drakington for taxes. Never had I heard that there were still riders for bladebreathers, or even proper cities.

We travelled through the capital until the buildings were behind us, and only grass and rocky patches stretched ahead.

“Is there a castle here?”

“No,” Riven answered.

“Where does Xavian live then?”

“The Lord of Castivian and his council’s homes are all in the Silver Circle. We’re not far.”

Riven was rigid, as if he’d taken ten steps back from the friendship I thought we were forming.

I swallowed, palming my orb for distraction until we finally made it to the top of the hill, where there was, in fact, a circle of striking manors.

Each home was dark and hanging onto the edge of the misty, seaside cliff, daring gravity to test its structure’s strength. Tall arched windows revealed nothing at the early hour.

“They’ve already left for the day,” Riven mumbled.

“Who?”

“The council.”

My face fell. “Where did they go?”

“The House of Sterling. It’s not far.”

I nervously waited as we rode past grassy, gravel pathways and black stone barracks that were evidently for the Brotherhood of Bastards. Finally, we arrived at our destination.

Long and silver, the stone structure looked more like a fortress than a house, fenced in with a gate made entirely of swords and guarded by a singular Blademan.

Riven dismounted first, then helped me down. The guard did not wear armor, only black leathers with blades secured in various places, similar to Riven.

As my hands began to shake, I raised them to the straps on my bag.

“We’re here to see Lord Xavian Steele,” Riven said to the Blademan. “We have a message from the king.”

The brunette guard crossed his arms and grinned. “He’s in the grand hall. Just finished up an initiation ceremony. You can head in.”

The guard didn’t bother opening the gate for us, nor did he alert anyone that we were entering. It seemed odd and unsafefor the Lord of Castivian. Nevertheless, I followed Riven through the gate, the stone doors, and finally, inside the House of Sterling.