The Princess After Riven's Departure
The throne hall slowly emptied, but Princess Lyria remained frozen where she stood—eyes fixed on the massive doors through which Riven had vanished.
A faint tremor ran through her fingertips.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
Warm.
But not in a normal way.
Something pulsed beneath her skin—slow, steady, quiet… wrong.
A coil of magic hidden deep inside her ribs.
A whisper of something ancient, coiled like a parasite around her heart.
But she felt no pain.
No weakness.
No fever.
Nothing.
Only the faintest echo of Riven's words:
"The princess doesn't look well."
Lyria inhaled sharply, her silver hair trembling around her.
Why?
Why could that girl sense something no healer—no royal mage—had ever noticed?
Her father stepped beside her.
"Lyria," he said quietly, "pay no mind to her claim. You are perfectly fine."
Lyria forced a nod.
"Yes… of course, Father."
But for the first time in her life,
she doubted him.
And the hidden curse deep inside her pulsed
once,
slowly,
like a heartbeat preparing to awaken.
⸻
When Riven opened the old wooden gate of the orphanage, the place exploded into life.
"RIVEN'S BACK!"
"She's back! She's back!"
"Riven !"
Children of every age launched toward her like a stampede.
Before she could take a full step inside, three small kids collided with her legs, two more jumped into her arms, and another clung to her back like an overly excited koala.
Riven stumbled.
"Alright—HEY—careful—"
But she was laughing.
Actually laughing.
The older teens peeked from the doorway, amused.
"You caused trouble again, didn't you?" Ren said, arms crossed.
"Of course she did," Lira added. "It's Riven."
The head nun—Mother mari—marched toward her with hands on her hips.
"So," she said sternly, "did you cause chaos in the palace too?"
Riven opened her mouth—
"Yes," Ren answered for her.
Lira added, "Absolutely."
Mother mari pinched the bridge of her nose.
Children tugged Riven down to sit, forming a circle around her on the floor.
Everyone watched her with wide eyes, waiting.
"So, what happened?" one of the little ones asked.
Riven sighed theatrically.
"Well… the king wanted to know my magic. And whether I'm a threat. And why I stare at his daughter."
The room exploded.
"You stared at a princess?!"
"Did you threaten the king?!"
"Did you fight anyone?!"
"No," Riven said, straight-faced. "Not this time."
Laughter burst from all sides.
Even Mother mari smiled despite trying not to.
"And," Riven continued, smirking, "I may have told them their princess looks sick."
Everyone froze.
"…Riven ," Mother mari whispered, horrified. "Why would you say that?!"
"Because she is," Riven replied simply.
Children stared at her as if she had just declared war on the moon.
Lira groaned and shoved a pillow at her.
"Riven , one day you're going to get executed just for talking."
Ren added, "And we'll all pretend we don't know you."
But Riven only leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, smile small but real.
"I missed this place," she said quietly.
The orphanage always felt warm.
Alive.
Safe.
Even she knew none of that safety could ever last.
⸻
The moon hung high when the last candle was blown out.
Riven lay in her bed, one arm behind her head, staring at the ceiling.
The sounds of sleeping children filled the hallway outside.
A faint rustle of magic shimmered in the dark.
Morrivayne materialized at the foot of her bed
flaming red hair cascading down her back,
black horns curved elegantly,
crimson eyes glowing in the dark.
"Not bad, little hunter," she purred.
"You walked into a king's den and walked out untouched."
Riven didn't look at her.
"I wasn't planning on fighting anyone."
Morrivayne smirked.
"Liar."
Riven exhaled slowly.
Morrivayne circled her like smoke.
"You noticed the elder princess," she said softly. "I saw your eyes. You sensed something."
Riven narrowed hers.
"There's something… wrong with her magic. It feels like—"
She searched for the right word.
"—a shadow. Inside her body. Hard to read."
Morrivayne's smile sharpened.
"A curse," she whispered.
"Old. Hidden. Cleverly wrapped around the girl's life."
Riven tensed.
"You know what it is?"
"Not fully."
Morrivayne drifted closer, her voice dropping.
"But I know this much…
the curse is slow, silent, and will not hurt her now."
She hovered beside Riven's bed, eyes glowing like dying embers.
"But one day, Riven —
her body will collapse from the inside."
A chill crept down Riven's spine.
"Can I stop it?" she asked quietly.
Morrivayne's smile softened—almost fondly.
"You want to save her?"
She chuckled darkly.
"Careful. I thought you said you don't care about anyone."
Riven rolled onto her side, refusing to answer.
Morrivayne whispered one last time before fading into shadow:
"The princess's time is running out.
And you are the only one who sees it."
The room fell silent.
Riven closed her eyes.
And for the first time that night,
sleep did not come easily.