A sharp knock on the door pulled Kael from her thoughts.
Her hand instinctively went to the dagger at her belt before she glanced toward the entrance. The knock came again, firm but unhurried.
She sighed, crossing the small room in the inn before pulling the door open just enough to see who it was.
Jorrik.
"You look like you were about to stab me," he noted dryly, arms crossed.
Kael smirked. "That depends. Are you here to annoy me?"
Jorrik snorted. "No. I come bearing gifts."
That caught her attention. "Gifts?"
Jorrik stepped past her into the room, carrying a medium-sized box. He set it down on the small table near the bed before turning back to her.
"From Riven," he clarified. "He said it was something special."
Kael's eyes narrowed as she shut the door. "Why do I feel like that means trouble?"
Jorrik shrugged. "Could be. He just told me to make sure you got it."
Kael eyed the box suspiciously before moving toward it.
"If this is something ridiculous, I swear—"
Jorrik chuckled. "Only one way to find out."
Kael exhaled before sitting on the edge of the bed, placing the box on her lap.
She lifted the lid.
Inside, the first thing she saw was a neatly folded letter, sealed with Riven's emblem.
Beneath it—two gleaming daggers.
Kael's breath hitched.
She carefully set the letter aside and reached for one of the weapons.
The hilts were crafted with black, violet, and red accents, the metal sharp and perfectly balanced. These weren't just decorative—they were weapons meant for a warrior.
And they were beautiful.
A rare, genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Nice," Jorrik said, watching her reaction.
Kael didn't respond right away. She ran her fingers over the intricate design before glancing back at the box.
Something else was inside.
She picked up the letter, breaking the seal.
The handwriting was smooth and effortless, as if Riven had written it with his usual lazy smirk.
And as she read, she could almost hear his voice.
---
"Sweetheart,
By the time you read this, I'll be playing the role of a dutiful prince back at the palace. Try not to miss me too much.
Now, let's talk about our little journey. My father and I have arranged a simple plan to cover our absence—word will spread that I'm on a diplomatic mission, giving us enough time to reach Varendel and return without too much trouble.
But we need to make sure no one notices you're missing, either.
Which brings me to Jorrik.
Kael, darling, be a good friend and hand him some of those magic disguise pills.
Jorrik will be you for the next two weeks—just enough for people to see 'Kael' around town now and then. If anyone's watching you, they'll think you never left.
Before you start glaring at the paper, relax. I'm not asking Jorrik to become you completely. Just enough to keep suspicions low.
Jorrik, if you're reading over her shoulder, congratulations—your life just got more complicated.
You'll do great. I mean, Kael barely acts like a lady anyway, so it won't be too difficult."
---
Kael scowled.
"Really?" she muttered.
Jorrik, who had been reading from over her shoulder, frowned. "He never mentioned this before."
Kael smirked, folding the letter slightly. "What, nervous about pretending to be me?"
Jorrik sighed dramatically. "I should've expected this nonsense."
Kael handed him a few of the pills. "Consider it an honor."
Jorrik gave her a deadpan look. "Oh yes, what a privilege to imitate a woman who terrifies half of Ravaryn."
Kael grinned. "If you think that's bad, wait until you have to scowl at people for no reason."
Jorrik groaned but pocketed the pills.
"Fine," he muttered. "But if anyone tries flirting with me while I look like you, I'm breaking character immediately."
Kael laughed. "Fair enough."
She returned to the letter, skimming past Riven's usual sarcasm. Near the end, his tone softened slightly.
---
"Iassume by now you've ignored everything else in the box.
So let me save you the trouble—yes, there's more.
I know how much you adore your practical, colorless clothing, but we'll be traveling through different lands. You'll need to blend in.
Consider this a necessary upgrade.
Try not to hate them too much.
Goodnight, sweetheart. See you in two days.
—Riven"
---
Kael exhaled, shaking her head.
Then, setting the letter aside, she looked back at the box.
And—sure enough.
Beneath the daggers, several sets of neatly folded clothing.
Her brows furrowed as she pulled one out.
The fabric was soft but durable, meant for both movement and protection. The colors weren't overly bright, but there were deep blues, warm reds, and dark greens woven into the designs—subtle, yet striking.
The style was practical, suited for travel, yet undeniably elegant.
It was a warrior's attire. But not just any warrior's.
A leader's.
Kael traced her fingers over the fabric, something unreadable flickering across her expression.
Riven had thought about this.
More than she had expected.
"Looks like he really wants you to dress like a queen," Jorrik teased.
Kael scoffed, but there was no heat behind it.
Instead, she carefully folded the clothing and placed it back in the box.
She picked up the daggers one last time, twirling one between her fingers.
Then, softly—"I like them."
Jorrik raised an eyebrow. "The clothes?"
Kael smirked. "The daggers."
Jorrik chuckled. "Of course."
She placed everything back inside before standing. "You should go. You have some acting to prepare for."
Jorrik groaned. "I swear, if I have to glare at people all day—"
"You'll be perfect."
Jorrik rolled his eyes but smirked slightly. "Fine. Goodnight, Kael."
"Goodnight, Jorrik."
He left, closing the door behind him.
Kael exhaled, glancing at the box once more before moving to her bed.
She lay down, staring at the ceiling.
The daggers. The clothes. The letter.
She had expected some kind of ridiculous joke from Riven.
But this?
This was… thoughtful.
Annoyingly thoughtful.
She sighed, closing her eyes.
And for the first time in a long time, she drifted into sleep without a blade in her hand.