She wandered about the room calmly, hands behind her back (ignoring her husband’s shouts). The room was as spartan as she’d expected; everything in it had a function or didn't exist, which was a real shame since the room was massive. The lack of decor made it feel empty. How did Caden stand it in here? But no matter. She'd be changing things up very soon.
The small inventory done, Riva began searching. No corner of the room was exempt; she threw open every drawer, looked under the desk and the nightstand, opened every cabinet and searched for false backs in case of secret compartments. What are you hiding, Caden Praetorium? Clothes were tossed out of the closet, the sheets of the bed thoroughly patted down for anything out of the ordinary. She'd be throwing most of these things out anyway. As she searched she made a list of things to buy or bring over from her old room. Paintings, a bigger mirror, a better bed-spread, some flowers, more inviting curtains. Yes, that should brighten the place up quite a bit.
Yet an hour later, Riva had nothing to show for her efforts; not one piece of odd or incriminating evidence to hold over his head. The Raveness slumped beside the bookshelf, arms folded sourly, thoroughly annoyed. If she was going to continue being Caden’s superior, she’d have to have something over him. Eventually she’d use a tongue-loosening serum on him to try and find out what she could from his own lips, but the unique opportunity to search a subject’s living place had been too good to resist. Too good to resist, perhaps, but apparently not worth it. He didn’t even have anything worth reading! Just old but untouched tomes on strategy and war-making. Stars, this was going to be a long marriage. The moment Ivian was assassinated and replaced - for every Mendaharian monarch eventually found their end, that much she was fully certain of - she’d waste no time in slipping something deadly in the man’s tea.
She rolled her eyes, resisting a shudder at the day’s earlier events. It was Ivian whose death should be at the top of her list. She hated him, she hated him more than anything. What was he playing at? So willing to throw her life away, yet insistent upon using her as a pawn in his political games by marrying her off. He didn’t respect her and that was dangerous for both of them. Revenge would come eventually and when it did, oh it would be sweet. Every time she recalled being dragged out of her seat and forced down, she wanted to scream, to strap Ivian to her table in the dungeons and watch him beg for mercy. A growl built in her throat and she only realized she was clenching her fists when her nails drew blood.
But being so angry was tiring. Her eyelids were already growing heavy, although the hour was not yet very late, particularly not for her and her nocturnal habits. Well, whatever. There was no time like the present to try out Caden’s massive bed. But, figuring she may as well look for notations in his books, she selected a tome on the end of the shelf to look through before dressing down to her chemise and sitting herself down on the surprisingly-soft mattress. It didn’t take very long for her to get comfortable. The whole room was miles better than Riva’s old surroundings and she found she quite liked it. If Caden wanted his room back, he’d have a devil of a time trying to get her out of here. She settled into the fluffy pillows, a thick blanket wrapped around her, and began reading the title-less text.
The first sentence was particularly eye-catching: My name is Acalia Praetorium.
Riva shut the book, grinning at her luck. So, our good General had a previous wife. Utterly fascinating. The Raveness flipped through the pages with her thumb eagerly. Just as she’d worried, the end of the book - or rather, it appeared, journal - was splattered with blood. Killed her, didn’t you, Praetorium? Riva sighed. She’d make sure she didn’t meet the same fate; one couldn’t stay in her position and live as long as she had without facing a handful of skilled assassins. But perhaps she could learn a thing or two from reading her predecessor’s words….