“The Solstice Tithe approaches,” he announced to the court, though his eyes never left her. “And my little mortal has bled for me three years. But bonds must be tested, must they not?”
But then again, neither would they.
But she had learned something he did not expect: a bound thing can still hate.
He removed his crown—a circlet of thorns that had grown into his brow—and set it on the throne. Blood welled from the punctures, but he did not flinch. court of blood and bindings vk
Riven rose. He was taller than memory allowed, and when he stepped down, the torches flickered as if bowing. He circled her slowly, the claws of his gauntlets grazing the air near her throat.
She sat. Not because she wanted to. The binding pulled at her joints like invisible strings.
“No,” she said.
She stared at him. “You tortured me. Starved me. Paraded me like a pet.”
He laughed—a real laugh, hollow and tired. “Monster. Yes. I’ve been called worse by better people. But I did not choose to bind you, Kaelen. Your father chose. I merely accepted payment for a debt older than your kingdom.”
Three years ago, on her eighteenth birthday, her own father had sold her bloodline’s last debt. Not with a sword or a cage, but with a single cut of a silver knife across her palm. Riven had tasted the droplet, whispered a word in a language older than the mountains, and just like that, Kaelen was no longer a person. “The Solstice Tithe approaches,” he announced to the
The court erupted when Riven announced the Tithe was complete—not as a consumption, but as a release . The nobles howled for blood, for tradition, for the pleasure of watching a mortal break. But Riven stood before them, his wounded hand dripping black onto the white marble, and spoke two words in the old tongue.
The court scattered like roaches from light. Within minutes, the great hall was empty save for the two of them.
She was taken to the bone gardens that night—a labyrinth beneath the court where the roots of the great thorn-tree grew like fossilized veins. The air was cold and still. Riven met her alone, divested of his crown and his court, wearing only a simple black tunic and bare forearms crisscrossed with scars that glowed faintly silver. But she had learned something he did not
He blinked. “What?”