Page 80 of An Honored Vow

That truth did little to quell my anxieties as I hiked through the trail and into the quiet city. The news of the selection had not yetmade it to Myrelinth since most of its residents had made the journey to the spring city to hear it for themselves.

I hiked up one of the spiraling branches of the Myram tree. My muscles ached as I climbed, my worries dripping onto the teal moss with my sweat. By the time I reached the top of the tree, my fears were not completely exhausted but faded enough that I might fall asleep.

I heard a heartbeat as I passed over Riven’s burl. He was home. My legs carried me there instead. My body knew that tonight was not one I wanted to spend alone. Riven lay across the carpet, black trousers untied with no tunic on. His olive brown skin gleamed under the small faelight that twirled overhead. His eyes were not closed, but fixed on the ceiling of the burl, deep in thought.

I dropped my cloak and weapons without a word and lay on the floor beside him. He still refused to sleep in a bed even though his mattress sat just to his left. “You didn’t attend the council decision.” It wasn’t a question or a judgment.

He cleared his throat and tilted his chin upward, showcasing the sharp angles of his face. “There was no need.” Riven’s flat hand turned to a fist on his chest. “I knew my name would not be called.”

I drew a deep breath. I had suspected as much when Riven didn’t show to the announcement. “You didn’t put forth your name for consideration.” Again, not a question.

Riven was quiet for a long moment that I let stretch between us. I didn’t tense at the silence like I used to but instead relaxed along the floor as Riven found the words. Another influence of the Elverin, I supposed.

My magic hummed under my skin, not with quite the same warmth that once existed between us, but close. Like a hand pressed against a window of a memory, I could still feel the shadow of the bond between us.

Riven finally turned to me, his jade eyes misted and narrow. “Do you think less of me for it?”

I grabbed Riven’s fist and flattened it, lacing my fingers through his and resting both our hands on his chest. “No.” I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Though I would like to know why you didn’t.”

His throat bobbed but he said nothing.

“Are you scared the pain will return alongside your shadows?” I rubbed my thumb along his hand. “Or are you worried you won’t have shadow magic at all?”

Riven’s mouth straightened. His other hand caressed my wrist absentmindedly as he weighed the question. “Those were worries, but small ones.” Riven bit his lip.

I toyed with his half braid but eventually my patience waned. “You can ask me.”

Riven turned his head in surprise.

I pulled his bottom lip from between his teeth. “You only bite your lip and frown when you’re concerned that speaking your mind will hurt whomever you speak it to.”

I trailed my finger along the arch of his nose and tapped the point. “It would hurt me more if you stayed silent.” I bit my own lip, our agreement echoing wordlessly between us.

Riven nipped my finger, snatching my wrist to press a kiss against it, before he turned on his side too. His actions were playful, but his gaze was weighted. “You wore your title of Blade for so long it became a mask.” His grip on my hand tightened. “How did you keep the edges of yourself and the character you had to play from blending into one?”

My lips parted, but I had no answer for him. Riven saw me more fully than I had ever seen myself. Not because he could hold space for the dark parts of me I preferred to ignore, but because to him I waswhole. That was why I loved him so, why his presence broughtme so much comfort, because he gave me faith that one day I would feel whole too.

But maybe he had always worked so hard for me to feel that way because he never had. I had shattered myself into pieces with every choice I had to make, and Riven had shattered himself, too, every time he had to lie about who he was. My chest ached for us both. For the people we could have been if we never had to try to stitch ourselves back together.

If we ever did.

“I didn’t.” It wasn’t the answer Riven wanted to hear, but it was true. A simple answer, though a storm raged behind those words. Riven’s jaw clenched, and I knew he had his own storm to contend with. Perhaps sharing mine would help.

“I had one truth, that was all I could hold on to. One promise.” My throat constricted against each word so they came out ragged and beaten. “The only true part of me was the part that wanted to kill the king to protect the Shades. Everything else was the Blade.”

Riven’s brows pinched. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You cared for Gwyn. For Hildegard.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly unable to meet Riven’s gaze. “I did, but not in the way I could have if the threat of their deaths weren’t haunting my every moment.” My chest ached as I sighed. “I loved them as well as I knew how to. As well as I could. But I had cut off so much of myself that it could never have been a full love. Not the kind of love you see here.”

“And now?” Riven grabbed the end of my braid and held it under his nose.

My lips twitched to the side. “I’m learning, but it still hurts.”

He frowned.

“It’s a good kind of hurt though,” I continued. “Being the Blade, doing the things I had to do, made it impossible to be a person.I don’t have a favorite color. I don’t have any skills apart from killing and spying, no hobbies, no books I’ve read again and again. I’m missing all those little layers that blend to make a full portrait of someone.”

“The deceit leeched you of all your color.” Riven’s voice was hoarse and his gaze far away, as if he were speaking more about himself than me. “Leaving only shadow.”

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