Noela had suggested a short walk to finish digesting their meal, although it was obvious that the maid had ulterior motives. A blind man could have read the tension between the pair and it was clear that Noela knew that Kaelen had approached Earl Marlowe about Riven. She herself wasn’t supposed to know yet, so Riven had no good excuse to avoid the walk.

She kept her pace measured, her gaze drifting now and then toward the small park they were approaching. It was quaint, trimmed hedges and winding paths interspersed with flower beds that had just begun to show the season’s first blooms. A fine day, a pleasant enough walk: yet the atmosphere between her and Kaelen carried an undeniable weight, something pressing and intangible that words alone couldn’t seem to release.

Kaelen seemed content with the silence for a while, his hands clasped behind his back as he fell into step beside her. He watched the path ahead, but now and then she caught his gaze flicking toward her, a flicker of warmth in his expression that gave her pause. It was softer than she’d seen before, a look that was curious, almost introspective.

“Have you thought much about it?” he asked after a time, his tone gentle, almost coaxing.

Riven raised an eyebrow. “Thought about what exactly?”

“What it means to have a peaceful life,” Kaelen offered and Riven made a noise of surprise, finally remembering her words a Eirlys’s tea party. Riven blinked, surprised he’d remembered her passing comment, but she maintained her composure, offering him a level look.

“I suppose a life where I do not have to worry about what the next day will bring,” Riven answered, feeling somewhat regretful of her guarded answer. Here she was demanding that Kaelen stop speaking in riddles, but she was giving him the same treatment in return. She sighed, deciding to let her guard down—if only a little. “A life where I can look forward to simple things.”

Kaelen’s brow softened, his gaze steady as he considered her answer. “You’d trade the intrigue, then? For a quiet life, somewhere far from the world of nobility?”

“To live without the weight of others’ ambitions? Yes, I think I would give quite a bit for that.” Riven almost scoffed as she laughed, feeling a rare spark of honesty slip past her careful guard. “Courtly life may have its charm, but it’s a charm I would gladly leave behind if it meant a simpler, safer path.”

“And having the blessing of a goddess does not change your mind?” Kaelen’s voice sounded genuine, and a hint of surprise crept into his gaze as he turned toward her, his curiosity bared without the mask of politeness. “It must have changed things for you. Life, ambition, perhaps even how others see you. Doesn’t Myelia’s blessing offer you… protection, in a way?”

“Protection? Maybe, but it’s more complicated than that.” Riven’s gaze drifted to a bed of pale lilies swaying gently in the breeze along the path. She would do anything to return to her gentle lavender. “As I said before, it is not a blessing to be noticed by a goddess in Vassoria.”

Kaelen nodded, a thoughtful silence settling between them. The faint hum of activity in the park around them seemed distant, as though the world had softened at the edges, allowing them this fragile, suspended moment. Riven was struck by the peculiarity of it, this conversation of honesty with someone who seemed perpetually shrouded in his own secrets.

“I wish I could understand such a… simple desire,” Kaelen finally spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “It seems that whenever I think I’ve found peace, it slips through my fingers, as elusive as mist.”

Riven glanced at him sidelong, her skepticism briefly breaking through her polite facade. Kaelen had a way of threading meaning into even the simplest words, his charm perpetually wrapped in layers she had yet to understand. That sounded remarkably like a Kaelen who had gotten his happy ending, and then found it wasn’t so happy. Had he faked not knowing Lyra’s words before?

“You speak as someone far older than you appear,” Riven decided to offer, and Kaelen chuckled, a quiet sound that felt almost… intimate in the quiet, sunlit park. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze slipping away from her as though he were considering something just beyond their conversation. For a moment, she saw a shadow in his expression, a look that held a weight she couldn’t quite place.

“Perhaps I’ve simply seen more than my share,” he replied, his tone carrying that same distant quality, as though he were reflecting on something half-remembered. “Or I like to seem older than I am so others don’t try to use me.”

‘You gave both answers on purpose.’ Riven stopped in her walk, unsurprised when Kaelen stopped immediately as well. It took Noela a bit longer to notice, and the maid quickly scrambled backwards, eager to give the couple their space.

“Kaelen, are you affected by a goddess?” Riven finally asked, realizing she had hit the nail on the head when a brief flicker of surprise and shock flashed across Kaelen’s face before he could hide it. Kaelen had not been blessed by a goddess in his story, but just like how Qatia had become an empire to make it a worthy rival to Vassoria, it was the only way to reconcile Kaelen’s immortality with the logic of The Silver Throne.

Riven stood her ground, waiting for Kaelen to gather himself, his easy composure shattered for a fraction of a heartbeat. She didn’t look away, refusing to soften her stance or give him the opportunity to laugh it off. Finally, he met her gaze again, a wry smile touching his lips, though his eyes held a vulnerability she hadn’t expected to see.

“I have a hard time believing you have ever been a frail girl, Lady Riven,” he replied, a hint of that familiar playfulness coloring his tone, though it felt less like a mask now, more a shield braced with quiet honesty. “Yes, I suppose, affected is the correct term, since as you know, men cannot use magic.”

A thread of sympathy rose in her, her eyes still locked on Kaelen as he looked away from her. It was partly her fault that he had been pulled into this world, even if Myelia claimed to have not changed anything on purpose. It seemed to be the simple result of her desire to be in a different world from the one that had condemned her, and Myelia’s magic had tried to make that wish true.

“I trust you will keep my secret, Lady Riven,” Kaelen’s voice pulled Riven back from her own thoughts, and she finally noticed that he had taken her hand. He was holding it gently in his own and Riven felt her face grow red with the warmth of his touch. The intensity of his gaze held her in place, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles in a gesture that was somehow both comforting and charged with something unspoken. The easy charm he wore in public had melted away, leaving a depth in his expression that she hadn’t anticipated, a look that suggested he felt the weight of her presence as much as she did his.

“I… would never do something that would risk your safety, Lord Kaelen,” Riven replied, her voice softer than she intended, though she didn’t pull her hand away. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Kaelen’s expression softened, a genuine smile breaking through, and it was enough to make Riven’s heartbeat a little faster. He released her hand, his fingers brushing hers one last time before falling away, and she found herself both relieved and disappointed at the absence of contact.

“Then I’m lucky to have earned even a bit of your trust,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, meant only for her. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Riven felt a rare, almost electric pull between them. A quiet yet undeniable understanding that held her fast but also unnerved her. Kaelen’s gaze lingered on her, softened by something unspoken, something that seemed to transcend the veiled words and guarded gestures they’d exchanged until now.

But then, with a gentle nod, Kaelen straightened, slipping seamlessly back into his usual easy charm, though there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Perhaps next time, we can have that quiet, simple lunch you seemed so eager for.”

“Perhaps,” Riven offered back, doing her best to slip back into her practiced politeness. She hadn’t approached this second chance as a way to find romance, but if her favorite romance novel had really merged with her favorite fantasy novel,

Then did she have much of a choice?