Riven's POV
The magic explodes out of me like a dam breaking.
I don't mean to do it. I've spent eighteen years making sure I never do it. But Lady Celeste's whispered words—you should have stayed invisible—snap something inside me that's been holding on by a thread.
The candles in her study blow out all at once. Every. Single. One.
Darkness swallows the room.
"What—" one of the King's men starts to say, but his voice cuts off in a strangled gasp.
I can feel it happening, feel the magic pouring from my hands like water from a broken jug. The shadows in the corners aren't just shadows anymore—they're moving, stretching, reaching across the walls like grasping fingers.
"Seize her!" Lady Celeste shrieks, but she sounds far away now, like I'm underwater.
Someone grabs my arm. The second his hand touches my skin, frost spreads across his sleeve, crackling and white. He screams and lets go.
No. Stop. STOP.
But I can't stop it. It's been locked away too long, pressed down too hard. Now that it's free, it doesn't want to go back.
A memory slams into me, sharp and bright—
I'm six years old, shivering in the servants' bath.
The water around me is wrong. Ice crystals float on the surface even though steam rises from the other tubs. My breath comes out in white puffs.
"Riven?" Cook's voice echoes off the stone walls. "You done yet, child?"
I try to answer, but my teeth chatter too hard. The cold isn't coming from outside. It's coming from inside me, spreading outward in waves I can't control.
The shadows on the wall twist. They peel away from the stone, reaching toward me like they want something.
I scream.
Cook bursts through the door, takes one look at the frozen water and living shadows, and goes white as milk.
"Make it stop!" I sob. "Please, make it stop!"
She doesn't run. She should run. Instead, she lunges forward and dunks my head under the icy water.
The shock of it—the cold, the surprise—makes everything snap back into place. When I come up gasping, the shadows are normal again. The ice melts instantly.
Cook drags me out, wraps me in a rough towel, and holds my face between her wrinkled hands.
"Listen to me very carefully," she says, and her voice shakes. "What you just did? That magic? If anyone sees it, they'll kill you. Do you understand? They'll tie you to a post in the town square and set you on fire while people watch."
"But the nobles have magic," I whisper. "I've seen them—"
"The nobles are born with the right blood. You're a servant. The law says servants with magic are abominations. Mistakes. Things that need to be destroyed." She squeezes my face harder. "You have to hide it. No matter what. No matter how much it hurts. Promise me."
I promise.
And I keep that promise for twelve years.
The memory releases me, and I'm back in Lady Celeste's study, where everything is going wrong.
The King's men are shouting. Lady Celeste is screaming. And I'm standing in the middle of darkness I created, with frost spreading across the floor from where I'm standing.
"She's an unregistered mage!" one of the men roars. "Seize her now!"
Rough hands grab me from behind. I thrash, and the magic surges again. The man holding me flies backward like someone shoved him, even though I never touched him.
He crashes into Lady Celeste's desk. Papers scatter everywhere—including the fake evidence with my name on it.
"Restrain her before she kills us all!" Lady Celeste shrieks, but I can hear the fear underneath her anger now.
She's afraid of me.
The thought is so strange, so impossible, that I almost laugh. Lady Celeste—who's made my life miserable since I was old enough to hold a broom—is afraid of me.
More hands grab me. This time, they're ready for the cold. They wrap chains around my wrists—iron chains that burn against my skin. The magic recoils from the touch of metal, and suddenly I can breathe again.
The shadows shrink back. The frost stops spreading. The candles flicker back to life.
In the sudden light, I see Lady Celeste's perfect face twisted with rage and something else. Triumph.
"Did you really think I didn't know?" she hisses, stepping closer. "I've known about your little secret since you were a child. Why do you think I kept you? You were insurance. A weapon I could use or dispose of when the time was right."
My stomach drops. "You... knew?"
"Of course I knew." She laughs, sharp and cruel. "I've been putting suppressants in your food for years. Special herbs that keep magic weak. But I stopped three months ago, just to see what would happen. And look—you've become exactly the monster I needed you to be."
The room spins. All this time. She knew. She's been controlling it, controlling me, waiting for the perfect moment to—
"Take her to the cellar," Lady Celeste orders. "The King's executioner arrives at dawn. We'll burn her with the morning sun."
They drag me toward the door. I try to fight, but the chains are too heavy and my magic won't answer anymore. It used too much power. I'm empty.
As they haul me past Lady Celeste, she leans in close.
"Your mother had magic too," she whispers. "Did you know that? She died in childbirth, but not before she begged me to keep you safe. I promised I would." Her smile is poison. "I lied."
My mother.
I've never known anything about my mother except that she died bringing me into the world. But magic? She had magic?
"Who was she?" I choke out. "Tell me who—"
"You'll die wondering," Lady Celeste says sweetly. "Guards, take her away."
The cellar is cold and dark and smells like death.
They throw me onto the stone floor and lock the door behind them. Through the tiny barred window, I can see stars. Dawn is hours away.
Hours until they burn me alive.
I curl up in the corner, chains clinking, and try not to cry. I won't give them that. I won't give her that.
But the tears come anyway.
I think about my mother, whoever she was. I think about Cook, who tried to save me. I think about all the years I spent making myself invisible, and how it didn't matter in the end.
Lady Celeste knew. She always knew.
The magic stirs weakly inside me, like a dying ember.
I'm sorry, I think to it. I'm sorry I kept you locked away. I'm sorry we're going to die before you could ever be free.
That's when I hear it.
Footsteps. Heavy boots on stone. Getting closer.
But it's not dawn yet. The execution isn't supposed to happen until—
The footsteps stop outside my cell door.
Keys jingle.
The lock clicks open.
I scramble backward, my heart hammering. Did they change their mind? Are they going to kill me now, in the dark, where no one can see?
The door swings wide.
A man steps through—tall, dressed in black armor, with a face carved from shadows and ice. His eyes find mine in the darkness, and they're cold enough to make Lady Celeste look warm.
"Riven Ashmore," he says, his voice like gravel and winter nights. "You're coming with me."
Behind him, I can see bodies. The guards who locked me in here. They're not moving.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
His smile is sharp as a blade.
"I'm the man who just bought you from the King. My name is Kieran Shadowmere." He steps closer, and even the darkness seems to bend away from him. "And you, little servant, are about to become my wife."