Riven carefully seated Melly in the middle, between himself and Lady Rathsture. He gently rested his sister’s head against his shoulder, making sure the little girl remained comfortable in her deep sleep.

Inside the carriage, the air was heavy with silence. No one spoke. Only the soft creak of the wooden wheels filled the stillness of the night.

Across from him, Riven glanced at Lyanna. She looked annoyed—her chin slightly lifted, eyes locked on the window but clearly not seeing anything outside. Beside her, Daphne fidgeted in her seat. Her fingers twisted together in her lap, eyes downcast, as though trying to calm herself.

Next to Riven, Sally Rathsture sat straight-backed, composed, hands folded neatly over her lap. Her face was serene, almost peaceful—but it was just a mask. Something deeper churned behind those soft, quiet eyes.

The minutes dragged on in silence.

Then, finally, Sally turned her head and looked at Riven. Her gaze was unreadable—a mix of curiosity and something more cautious.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said softly. Her voice was warm, but there was a firm undertone beneath it. “I’ve kept it to myself for a while… didn’t think it was my place. But after everything that’s happened, I can’t help wondering anymore.”

She paused, weighing her next words carefully.

“What exactly is your relationship with Queen Ashtoria? Are you two… lovers?”

The two women across from them immediately turned to stare. All eyes were now on Riven, filled with a curiosity they barely tried to hide. Even Lyanna, who had been sulking the whole time, now leaned in slightly, as though afraid to miss a single word.

Riven turned slowly, meeting Sally Rathsture’s gaze with calm eyes. Though they lived under the same roof, he had hardly ever interacted with her. Their encounters were rare and brief—an occasional meeting in the hallway, a polite nod, and nothing more. No conversations. No personal connection.

And yet now, this woman was expressing deep curiosity about his relationship with Ashtoria.

Still, Riven answered without hesitation. His voice was calm, steady—quiet, but with unshakable certainty.

“Yes,” he said, holding Sally’s gaze. “I’m in a relationship with Ashtoria.”

His tone was gentle, even affectionate, when he spoke the queen’s name. It sounded too natural, too intimate, for someone of his status.

The reaction was instant. The three women froze, stunned into silence. It was as if Riven’s words had cracked the stillness inside the carriage like a thrown stone through glass. Their expressions were nearly identical: disbelief.

They had all seen how the so-called Mad Queen treated him—how she looked at him, how she acted around him. But still, hearing the truth straight from his mouth… it was hard to wrap their heads around.

Sally tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing, not with judgment, but with growing interest. “I’m surprised you can say that with such certainty,” she said quietly. “Aren’t you… afraid of her? After all the stories about her madness, her cruelty?”

Riven returned her gaze with calm resolve. “Marchioness,” he said evenly, “I don’t put my trust in rumors. I only believe what I see with my own eyes.”

Sally let out a quiet chuckle, not mocking but amused. “That’s a bold answer,” she said. “Then tell me… have you ever seen her true self?”

The question made Riven pause.

A memory surfaced—Ashtoria’s tear-streaked face as she cried in his arms, her voice breaking as she revealed pieces of her past, filled with pain and betrayal.

“I have,” Riven replied eventually, his voice softer now. “Her true self… is painful to witness.”

That earned a round of confused glances. Lyanna and Daphne exchanged looks, their faces filled with doubt.

Painful? How could someone known for slaughtering people on a whim be described that way? Painful for whom? Her victims? Or… for Riven?

Even Sally looked taken aback, her brows drawing together—but not in anger. Just more questions.

Riven looked around at them, genuinely puzzled by their reactions.

Sally leaned forward slightly, her tone more pointed now. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean, painful? Have you ever seen her kill someone?”

Riven shook his head.

He had never seen that side of Ashtoria, the brutal, monstrous version everyone talked about. What he had seen was her slaughtering a pack of vicious beasts in an instant, just to save his life. At that moment, nothing about her seemed insane. Only courageous… and perhaps, caring.

Then he remembered the night Ashtoria asked him that question, back when she was still pretending to be Aria. ‘What if… what if the rumors are true? What if she really did kill people as she pleased?’

Riven exhaled softly, a slight weight pressing down on his chest.

Sally broke the silence, her voice still gentle but colder now. “I’m not trying to ruin what you have with her. But so you won’t be shocked later… let me be honest with you. She is insane, Riven. I saw it myself, with my own eyes. She destroyed a sacred temple and slaughtered everyone inside without mercy.”

Riven’s brow furrowed, irritation creeping into his features, not just at what she said, but how she said it. As if Ashtoria were nothing but a monster.

Sally met his gaze head-on. “Do you remember a knight named Rocky Stone?”

Riven nodded slowly.

“He was executed by the Queen… just because he hurt you,” Sally said, her tone flat.

Riven fell into silence, unsure of what to say.

Sally pressed on. “How do you feel, knowing that?”

He looked at her for a moment, then frowned. “Marchioness… are you testing me?”

Sally shook her head. “No. I’m showing you what you may not want to see. But you should see it, for your own sake.”

Riven turned his head, staring out the dark window.

He imagined it now—watching Ashtoria not kill beasts or enemies… but innocent people. Would he still see her the same way?

‘How would I feel?’ he asked himself. ‘Would I be afraid of her? Would I stop loving her?’

He didn’t know.

Feelings weren’t simple. And Riven knew better than to underestimate the depth of his own. If he were to face the truth—if she really was everything they said she was—then he would decide for himself.

Would he feel for the strangers she destroyed?

Or… would he stay by her side, no matter what?

One thing was certain—for now, he liked her. Genuinely. When they were together, there was no doubt in his heart.

After that, no more words were spoken. The carriage fell silent once again, the weight of their thoughts heavier than before. Hours passed, yet none of the four passengers found sleep. Each of them trapped in their own quiet turmoil.

Until suddenly, shouting from the front broke the stillness. The coachman’s voice rang out, loud and urgent:

“We’re blocked! Bandits ahead!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep