Page 13 of Bought By the Revenant (Monsters’ Bride Market #1)

Chapter Eleven

Amity

The seamstress’s tape measure slides along my waist. I stand in the center of the workshop on a small wooden platform, surrounded by bolts of fabric in every imaginable color.

“Hold still just a moment longer,” Talia says. She writes my measurements in a small leather-bound notebook. “Mina will handle the embroidery for your dress. She’s the finest needleworker in all of Luminea.”

A revenant woman with copper-colored hair looks up from her workstation and smiles. I can barely see the stitching along her jawline.

“It would be my honor,” she says.

“Oona will ensure the perfect fit,” Talia continues, gesturing toward a tall, thin revenant with dark hair who’s arranging fabric samples. “And Hal creates all our patterns.”

The only male revenant in the room nods politely from his spot near a large table covered in paper templates. He holds a pencil, and I notice a thin line that runs from his temple down to his collar, the only visible sign of his stitching.

“How long have you all worked together?” I ask, trying not to move while Talia measures across my shoulders.

“Oh, let’s see...” Talia purses her lips. “Hal joined us about forty years ago, but Mina and Oona have been with me nearly seventy years now.”

I stare at her. Seventy years? Talia looks thirty at most, and her assistants appear the same age.

I look over at Riven, who stands across the room examining a bolt of midnight blue velvet, keeping his distance from the others.

The truth about marrying him hits me hard.

Riven will never age. He will stay exactly the same forever, while I grow old.

My skin will wrinkle, my hair will turn gray, and eventually I will die.

And Riven will continue living, unchanged, maybe for centuries after I’m gone.

“Arms out, please,” Talia instructs.

I extend my arms while my mind races with these thoughts. What will Riven think when I’m an old woman and he still looks the same? Will he still want me? Will he regret marrying a human who ages and dies?

“What fabrics were you considering for your wedding dress?” Talia asks.

I push away my worries and focus on her question. I can think about our different lifespans later.

“White, of course, but I’d like to incorporate some blue as well. It’s my favorite color.”

Riven looks up, his white eyes growing brighter.

“Like your nails,” he says softly.

I look at my blue-painted fingernails and smile.

“Yes.”

Talia nods approvingly.

“I have the perfect fabrics.” She gestures to Oona, who brings over several samples – a shining white silk, and a rich blue satin that catches the light. “These would complement each other wonderfully.”

“They’re perfect.”

“We’ll have the dress ready in three days. Master Riven’s bride deserves special attention.”

Riven shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the formal title.

“Thank you, Talia.”

“It’s been many years since you commissioned anything besides your usual attire,” she observes. Her eyes move quickly to his face before she looks away again.

“Yes, well,” Riven says awkwardly, “circumstances have changed.”

After Talia finishes taking my measurements, I step down from the platform and walk to Riven’s side.

“Could we explore the village a bit?” I ask him. “I’d like to see Aura Glade while we’re here.”

“Are you sure? We could return home if you prefer.”

“I’m sure,” I insist. “Please? I’ve never seen a revenant village before.”

He gives a small nod and offers me his hand.

“As you wish.”

We say goodbye to Talia and her assistants, then walk out into the sunlit street.

The reaction people have to Riven is immediate and overwhelming.

Conversations stop mid-sentence, passersby bow slightly or nod respectfully before hurrying away.

Some villagers actually cross to the other side of the street to avoid us.

No one, revenant or human, looks directly at Riven.

He pretends not to notice, but his hand squeezes mine tighter.

As we walk, I watch the revenants we pass. Their stitches are almost invisible, just subtle lines at their necks or wrists, or a faint seam along a jawline. The work is so skillful that from a distance, they look completely human.

“You did this?” I ask quietly. “This is thanks to you, the fact that you can barely see their stitches?”

“Yes,” Riven answers.

“Then why do they avoid you?”

He shrugs, keeping his white eyes focused straight ahead.

“Perhaps my monstrosity makes them uncomfortable. Or perhaps it feels unfair to them that they’re beautiful while I remain as I am. Unfairness makes people feel bad, even when they benefit from it.”

We reach a busy market square where humans and revenants sell their goods.

The variety is fascinating and so different from human markets.

One stall has bottles and jars labeled for “stitch maintenance” and “seam healing”.

Another offers creams that promise to blend different skin tones.

A bookseller displays volumes about soul transference and body upkeep.

Near them, a revenant sells beautiful scarves and clothing designed to hide stitching.

I’m about to ask Riven about one particularly interesting display when I hear shouting across the square. A young woman has fallen behind a stall selling bread and pastries, and she’s holding her pregnant belly.

“Katherine!” someone cries out.

Riven and I hurry toward the gathering crowd without thinking. The woman lies on the ground, her face twisted in pain. Her belly is huge beneath her simple dress, which is now wet around her thighs.

“My water,” she gasps when she sees the crowd gathering. “It broke. But it’s too early… the baby shouldn’t come for another few weeks.”

A revenant woman kneels beside her. “The midwife is away. She’s visiting villages beyond Ethelburg and won’t return for at least a week.”

“Her apprentice is here,” someone calls out. “But she’s never handled a premature birth alone.”

“Ethelburg has proper medical facilities,” another suggests. “But it’s a day’s journey, even by the fastest carriage.”

I look at the frightened young woman, and I know what I need to do.

“I’m a midwife,” I say, stepping forward. “I can help her.”

The faces turned toward me show both relief and uncertainty. Katherine’s eyes find mine, filled with desperate hope.

“Where do you live?” I ask her.

“Just three streets from here,” she manages between difficult breaths. “The blue house with the stone fence.”

Riven steps forward without speaking and carefully picks Katherine up in his arms. She looks small against his chest, but she doesn’t complain.

Her need is greater than any fear of how he looks.

The crowd moves aside as Riven carries her through the streets.

I follow right behind him. We reach a modest blue house with a small garden at the back.

Riven pushes the door open with his foot, and we enter a neat home that shows both humans and revenants live here.

There are herbal medicines on one shelf in the living room, and soul transference texts on another.

Riven finds a bedroom and lays Katherine gently on the bed.

She grabs my hand. “My husband… He’s in Ethelburg on business. He should be back tomorrow.”

It’s as clear as day that she’s human and he is a revenant. I wonder briefly about human-revenant reproduction, but there’s no time for questions now. The front door opens with a bang, and I hear quick footsteps coming toward us. A young woman rushes in, breathing hard from running.

“I’m Fenna,” she says. “The midwife’s apprentice. Someone came to fetch me at the apothecary.”

“I’m Amity,” I reply, already checking Katherine’s condition. “I need clean linens, boiled water, and any birthing herbs you have on hand.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll gather everything.” She hesitates for a second. “I’ve never handled a premature birth on my own. I’m grateful you’re here.”

“We’ll manage together,” I assure her, then turn back to examine Katherine.

Her contractions are still far apart but getting stronger. The baby seems to be positioned correctly, but premature births have many risks. I check her pulse, feel her forehead for fever, and gently press on her abdomen to judge the baby’s size.

“Do you have raspberry leaf, blue cohosh, or black haw?” I ask Fenna as she returns with linens.

“Yes, all three in the apothecary cabinet.”

“Prepare a tea with raspberry leaf for now. We’ll hold the others in reserve depending on how things progress.”

Fenna hurries to make the tea while I talk quietly to Katherine, explaining what will happen, and reassuring her that premature babies can do well with proper care. She nods bravely, though fear lingers in her eyes.

I notice Riven standing awkwardly by the bedroom door, not sure if he belongs here.

Even though he’s uncomfortable, I see how he watches everything with interest. His background in medical science is the only explanation I have for his behavior, as men, in my experience, run as fast as they can from women giving birth.

Even when it’s their wife and their baby.

“Riven,” I call to him. “Could you help Fenna bring more water? And perhaps find something for Katherine to grip during contractions?”

He nods, looking relieved to have specific tasks. When he comes back with a sturdy wooden spoon wrapped in cloth for Katherine to bite down on, his thoughtfulness strikes me. He may be uncomfortable, but he understands pain management. Of course he does. He’s experienced so much pain himself.

The afternoon passes slowly while Katherine’s labor progresses. I give her herbal remedies to strengthen her and ease her pain, timing each contraction carefully and watching both mother and child. Fenna learns quickly, following my instructions.

“Apply counter-pressure here,” I show her, pressing my palms against Katherine’s lower back during a particularly strong contraction. “It helps relieve some of the pain radiating from the sacrum.”

Fenna copies my actions, concentrating hard. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” I say. “Now when I check the cervical dilation, notice how I…”

Katherine cries out. Her contractions are coming closer together now, though still not close enough for delivery. My dress is stained with fluids despite the apron Fenna gave me. As evening approaches, I realize this will take all night.

I notice Riven’s growing concern. He’s stayed in the room, keeping a respectful distance, but he watches my face constantly, checking how tired I am.

His discomfort shows in how he holds himself, stiff and controlled.

I understand why he’s reluctant to be too involved with another revenant’s human wife.

As Katherine takes a breath and rests, I walk over to him.

“This is going to take all night,” I tell him. “Could you please go home and bring me a change of clothes and my bag? I have various tools and herbal mixtures in there that might help.”

“Are you sure? I don’t like leaving you.”

“I’m sure. Fenna is capable, and Katherine is strong. We’ll be fine for a few hours.”

He studies my face, then nods. “I’ll return as quickly as possible.”

After he leaves, I feel both relieved and lonely. I hadn’t realized how much his presence has become a comfort to me. But I need to focus on Katherine without worrying about Riven’s anxiety.

“He loves you very much,” Katherine observes weakly during a break between contractions.

I look up from preparing another herbal drink.

“What makes you say that?”

“The way he watches you. Like you’re the most precious thing in the world.” She smiles faintly. “My husband looks at me the same way.”

Before I can respond, another contraction takes hold of her.

Hours stretch in front of us. The night will be long, but I’m ready.

This is what I’m meant to do – help life enter the world.

As I hold Katherine’s hand through another contraction, I silently promise her and her unborn child that I will see them safely through to morning.