Shattered Sanity

(Meanwhile, Mary’s POV)

Mary slowed down when she walked past Riven, although only slightly, barely enough for anyone else within the Argent pavilion to notice, yet long enough for her to give him every possible opportunity to acknowledge her presence.

A glance, a change in expression or even the slightest widening of his eyes would have been enough to confirm that he was the same individual that she had spent some of her life’s most challenging months with.... Yet nothing came.

Riven never even looked at her, as instead, he remained comfortably seated amongst several House Argent seniors and other early-round selections, discussing something regarding academic electives in a calm, sophisticated manner while Mary walked directly past him.

His attention never shifted, his voice never faltered and his expression never changed, almost as though she did not exist.

As for a heart wrenching moment, Mary felt her chest tighten.

’He didn’t even look at me...’

She thought, as she continued walking deeper into the silver pavilion while desperately resisting the urge to turn around.

Until that moment, there had still been some small part of her expecting something to happen when she finally came close enough.

Perhaps Riven would look at her and feel shocked.

Perhaps he would suddenly stand and call her name, feeling equally surprised that someone from Ashfang Village had somehow appeared within the Imperial Academy.

But none of that happened, as Riven Dawnriver had shown her the same amount of interest he might have shown towards any random military recruit walking through the pavilion, which was to say, none whatsoever.

’What if I’m wrong?’

The possibility suddenly entered Mary’s mind, as she realized that she had been so overwhelmed after seeing his face that she had barely considered the most obvious explanation.

What if Riven Dawnriver simply looked remarkably similar to Riven Veyr?

Mary glanced backwards before quickly stopping herself, although the brief glimpse she caught only made her uncertainty worse as everything about him felt wrong.

The Riven she remembered never sat with his back so perfectly straight or carried himself with such effortless confidence, while he certainly never possessed that accent.

The boy Mary remembered had spoken like someone raised amongst commoners, occasionally stumbling through words he did not understand and possessing none of the carefully refined pronunciation currently flowing from Riven Dawnriver’s mouth.

Even his mannerisms were different, from the way he moved his hands while speaking and acknowledged the senior opposite him, to the casual confidence with which he participated in a conversation surrounded by nobles who would once have terrified the Riven she remembered.

Then there was his body, his height, his surname and his entire history, with every additional difference making the possibility that she had simply mistaken him for someone else increasingly difficult to ignore.

’Maybe it really isn’t him...’

Mary thought, although something inside her immediately rejected the possibility because she knew that face.

Minerva help her, she knew that face.

But apparently, Riven Dawnriver did not know hers.

Mary’s feet stopped as, for one dangerous moment, she almost turned around, with the urge coming so suddenly that she found herself imagining exactly what she would do.

Walk straight towards him, stand before his chair and look directly into his eyes.

"Riven?"

One word.

That was all she needed, as if it was truly him, surely something would happen.

Even if he lied afterwards and denied knowing her, Mary knew Riven well enough that she believed she would recognize the first instinctive reaction upon his face.

Her body actually began turning before she stopped herself.

’Stop it, Mary. You’re only making a fool of yourself.’

Mary told herself, as her fists clenched while she forced herself to look away.

What exactly was she planning to accomplish?

Walk up to the second overall selection of the Imperial Academy House Draft, the heir of one of the Four Great Ducal Houses, and accuse him of secretly being a former slave because his face resembled a boy she once knew?

The thought sounded considerably more ridiculous when phrased that way.

And if she was wrong, the consequences could be considerably worse than simply embarrassing herself.

Riven Dawnriver was not some ordinary noble she could accidentally offend without consequences, as his father governed the East, he had been selected second overall and House Argent’s seniors were already surrounding him while clearly treating him as one of their most valuable incoming recruits.

Meanwhile, Mary herself possessed no surname and had only entered the Academy through Imperial military sponsorship, which meant antagonizing someone like him on her first day could destroy her standing within Argent before she had even seen her dormitory.

And for what?

A memory, a suspicion and a desperate desire for someone she had lost to suddenly return?

’Enough.’

Mary told herself firmly.

’You didn’t come here for Riven.’

Her gaze lowered towards the Imperial military insignia upon her clothing as she reminded herself that she had come here because the Academy represented something she had spent years believing might never belong to her.

A future.

For perhaps the only time in her entire life, she now possessed a genuine opportunity to become something greater than another useful body owned by the Empire, as if she graduated from the Imperial Academy and distinguished herself afterwards, she could potentially earn status, wealth and authority that someone born into her circumstances could otherwise never dream of possessing.

More importantly, she could finally escape the fate that had followed her since childhood, where she always seemed destined to belong to somebody else.

’You came here to stop being a slave.’

Mary reminded herself.

’So what does it matter whether he’s the Riven you remember or not?’

She wondered, however, her heart immediately supplied an answer, as of course it mattered, which was precisely why this hurt so much.

Mary wanted to walk back there, grab Riven by the shoulder, force him to look at her and demand that he tell her whether the months she remembered had actually meant anything to him.

She wanted to ask where he had been, what Garron had done to him, how he became a Dawnriver, why he had never returned and why, after everything they had survived together, he could apparently watch her walk directly past without even offering a glance.

But Mary remained where she was.

’If that’s really him and he doesn’t want to talk to me, then that’s his choice.’

The thought hurt considerably more than she expected.

’And if it isn’t him, then I’m about to antagonize one of the most important people in this Academy over somebody who disappeared years ago.’

Neither possibility gave her any reason to approach him, so Mary slowly unclenched her fists and inhaled deeply before raising her chin, forcing the disappointment from her expression as best she could while several Argent students continued welcoming the newest selections around her.

’You have other things to worry about now.’

Classes, House Points, Ascension, Black Week, graduation and freedom were the things that mattered now, or at least, those were the things she desperately tried convincing herself mattered.

Mary finally turned away from Riven completely and found an empty seat farther inside the pavilion, deliberately choosing somewhere from which she would no longer have to look directly at him.

She sat down and folded her hands across her lap before staring towards the Drafting Grounds as though nothing had happened, yet despite everything she had just told herself, one question continued refusing to disappear.

’Are you really not my Riven?’