Read Online The Riven Shield: The Sun Sword #5 by Michelle West - Free Book Online

House?”
    Teller stiffened; Finch caught the sudden lack of movement—startling even though Teller was not the most animated of people—with the small part of her attention that wasn’t focused on The Terafin.
    Ellerson
, she thought,
why aren’t you here
? She wasn’t up to a protracted conversation with arguably the most powerful woman in the Empire. Or at least not a politic, intelligent one.
    Teller came to her rescue.
    “If she ruled the House, he wouldn’t need to accept the name; she already owns everything he’s willing to give away. Angel’s never been one for empty gestures.”
    “No,” The Terafin replied. “And the rest of you?”
    He shrugged, although his expression was completely serious. “For the rest of us, it wasn’t empty. Jay wanted the name, and because she wanted it, we wanted it. Except for Angel. And Arann,” he added, almost grudgingly.
    “Arann.” She found him easily on the crowded flat of the floor that encircled the altar by which she stood. Her expression shifted, a subtle motion of lines, a narrowing of eyes, a compression of lips. She nodded slightly as she met his eyes, and he came—albeit awkwardly—toward her.
    He did what they had failed to do; knelt before her feet, bowed his head.
    Finch was suddenly aware of the sword that hung by his side—had to be; it scraped against the surface of marbled stone like fingers against board. No one else wore one. Carver and Angel had taken lessons, but the weaponsmaster Jay had sent them
all
to had chosen instead to focus on the skills he felt they did have: long daggers, short daggers, thrown weapons.
    But Arann had joined the House Guards almost right from the start. Jay had hated it. Had been proud of it, and had hated it.
    And he knew. Funny, it had hardly bothered him at all when she’d been here. But Finch knew him well enough; he’d gone to his knees tonight, but it was the first time in years that old split loyalties chafed at him.
    The Terafin knew it as well.
    She’d known Arann for a handful of years as a polite, but respectful half-stranger, but she could also see what Finch, who was almost blood-kin, could see—and no less clearly. That, Finch thought without rancor, was why she was The Terafin.
    Arann rose as The Terafin gestured.
    “Well,” she said, “are you hers or are you mine?”
    He was not a wordsmith.
    But he was not a coward either; the fear of being forced, after so many years, to choose was more terrible than the event itself. He squared his shoulders, shedding weight in the process.
    “Both.”
    “Is that a suitable reply?”
    “It’s the only one I have, Terafin.”
    “I . . . see.” The woman who ruled stepped back; her hands touched the pale, cold surface of stone as if she might draw strength from the Terafin altar. It cut across the heart of the shrine, forgotten by the den until the moment she chose to remind them of its existence by this simple gesture.
    “You both serve the House,” he continued, for if she touched the altar with the flat of her palms, she did not look away.
    “I rule the House,” she said, the words cool.
    “You serve the House best
by
ruling it. And Jay served the House best by serving
you
.”
    “And how will she serve the House when I am dead?”
    Arann didn’t flinch. Finch did. And because she did, she missed the expression on his face.
    “By ruling it,” he said quietly. “By ruling it because in the end you’ve left her no other choice.”
    “I?”
    “You know who seeks power. You’ve seen them. You’ve seen what they’re willing to do to gain it. But—”
    “It is not easy to remove the powerful from their positions. I would weaken Terafin immeasurably if I were to attempt such an extraction.”
    “You weaken it,” he said, “by your willingness to leave that task to others.”
    “Do I?” She turned away. Gazed into the night sky in the distance, broken by the outline of the grand, the glorious, House. “Arann, how many of the four