Page 23 of Bought By the Revenant
“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 thatpromise 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, butshe 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.
