Page 20 of An Honored Vow

He had always told me as much of the truth as he could. But now it was my job to stitch those truths together into one form. Like the blanket covering his mattress, violet and jade sewn together with a seam down the middle.

“Did Syrra agree to attend the meeting tomorrow?” Riven’s hand hung oddly at his side, caught between stretching and resting.

I leaned against the hardness of his door, keeping as much space between us as possible. “I didn’t ask.” My jaw pulsed. “She won’t leave her sister’s side.”

Riven’s head jolted back. His long black hair spooled over his shoulder, released from his usual half braid. “She didn’t care that Nikolai is alive?”

I pocketed my tongue in my cheek and twisted my boot along the ground.

“You didn’t tell her?”

“She’s a wreck, Riven.” My voice cracked as I spoke. “She doesn’t have a little hope left—she has none. I’m not going to stoke a dead flame until I have something tangible to give her.”

Riven crossed his arms. “She deserves to know.”

“She deserves to have a sister who isn’t dead!” The words passed my lips before I could think better of them.

Riven recoiled like I had punched him in the jaw. “You do blame me, then?” The rasp in his tone was brooding, dangerous. I felt like a rabbit being circled by a fox, and I didn’t know from which direction its pounce would come.

“This has never been about blame, Riven.” I slumped against the back of the door and let my body sink to the ground. “I can understand the choice you made and still be angry for what happened.”

“Angry at me?” Riven swallowed. “You’re angry at me.” It wasn’t a question but a resigned statement. His sharp features fell flat along his face, like he had been waiting for me to admit just that.

“Yes,” I whispered. I wiped my sleeve across my cheek to catch the tears. My throat burned with the need for wine, and my body ached so badly I knew a week’s rest wouldn’t alleviate it fully. “I’m angry at you for the lie. I’m angry at Damien for the game he played. I’m angry at Feron for not telling me, and I’m angry at Nik, and Vrail, and Syrra for that too. I’m angry that everyone has their part in this, but I’m the only one still fighting.”

“I was looking for Nik!” Riven’s fangs glinted in the silvery glow of the faelight.

I rolled my eyes. “You left because it was easier. Because it’s what you do. You make decisions for people. You decide what they’ll think, how they’ll feel, and you leave because you can’t bear to be proven right.”

Riven blinked. “I was always coming back. I would never leave you.”

“You didn’t stay an hour after we made it back to Aralinth.” I huffed a laugh. “You didn’t even tell me where you were going.”

Riven’s mouth snapped shut. He drummed his finger along the post as his jaw pulsed. “I knew what you were going to say.”

“No, you didn’t.” I leaned my head back against the stone. “But enlighten me, my prince. Since you know my mind better than I do.”

Riven’s brow cast a shadow over his eyes at the mention of his title. For a moment it was almost like his powers had returned. “That you regret it. That without my death hanging overhead, the truth was too much for you to truly forgive. Everything looked different when we made it back. Everythingisdifferent.”

I stood even though the bones in my legs felt like sand. “Regret forgiving you? Or loving you?”

Riven winced. “Both.”

It was the most heartbreaking word I’d ever heard.

I walked over to the bed and sat down on the plush mattress. Riven didn’t move. His body was rigid, the same way he would be whenever his magic caused him more pain than usual. His brow still twitched even though his powers were gone. The weight of his regrets was more painful than any magic could be.

For the first time since it had been severed, I wished for our bond. That my touch could keep that pain at bay for just a moment. But maybe Elverath had known better when she gave Riven back his life, not as a Fae or Mortal, but as a Halfling. Without the pain of his magic to distract him, he could finally face the pain of his legacy of lies.

I knew better than anyone that journey had to be led by oneself.

I pressed my head against the post Riven had been leaning on. “I chose you.” Tears pooled along my lashes, but they didn’t fall. “When Damien offered me that deal—Maerhal or you. I choseyou. Even though IpromisedNikolai to bring his mother back to him. I made that choice without a second thought.”

“If you had known the truth—”

“Stop.” I waved my hand through the air and sent a blast of wind into Riven’s chest. He slid back against the wall, and his jaw snapped shut.

I pulled myself to the end of the bed. “You do not get to diminish my choice because you regret yours. You kept the truth of your identity a secret, and it cost you. It costus. But that doesn’t change that Ichoseyou, Riven.”

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