Chapter 25: The Crown of Gilded Bones: Chapter 25

Casteel and I had spent the day before living, so we would spend today ensuring we had more days like yesterday.

We would meet with his parents.

But first, we needed to get out of bed, something neither of us seemed in a rush to do. While Casteel toyed with my hair, we chatted about what I had seen the day before, which included me waxing on rather poetically about the frozen treat I’d consumed.

In a lull of silence as I convinced myself it was far past time to get up, Casteel asked, “When you healed that girl yesterday, did you notice anything different about your abilities?”

“Not really,” I told him as I traced figure eights across his chest. “Well, I’m not sure if that’s true. When I healed Beckett’s injuries, I didn’t really need to think about it. It just happened. But this time, I had to do what I normally did before.”

“Think of happy memories?” He twisted a strand of hair around his finger.

“Yes. I thought of when we married.” I lifted my head, resting my chin on his chest. He smiled softly at me. “And I thought about how unfair the girl’s injuries were, and I…”

“What?”

I drew my lip between my teeth. “It seems silly to even consider this, but I did think to myself that it wasn’t too late—that she would live while my hands were on her.”

His gaze coasted over my features. “Did you know that she was already gone?”

“I…” I’d started to deny it, but I stopped myself as what Casteel had said the morning before resurfaced. Denial was no longer a luxury. He spoke of the Crown, but the same logic applied here. “I can’t say that she was gone for certain, but she was close.”

He slowly unwound my hair. “Then you either willed her soul to remain with her, or you brought her back to life, Poppy.”

My heart tripped over itself. “It’s hard for me to accept that, but I think I did.” Hair tumbled over my shoulders as I rose onto my knees. “It makes sense that I can do that because of who Nyktos is, but it’s kind of—”

“Amazing.” He carefully untangled his hand from my hair.

“I was going to go with unnerving,” I said.

His brow furrowed. “You gave that child a second chance at life. How can that be anything but marvelous?”

I glanced down at my hands, unsure of how to explain what I was thinking. “It’s just that kind of ability…is powerful in a frightening way.”

“Explain.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “I know the people who saw what happened yesterday think I am a deity—”

“I believe they think you’re a goddess,” he countered. “And there is a difference between the two.”

“Okay. They think I’m a goddess. But we both know that isn’t the case,” I pointed out, and he simply raised a brow. I rolled my eyes. “Either way, doing that felt like…playing god. It feels like an ability that could be misused without even realizing it—that is if I can even do it again.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it was her time, and you interfered?”

I stiffened. “I cannot believe that it was time for anyone that young to pass on to the Vale. I don’t think that at all.”

“Neither do I.” He tapped his fingers on my hand. “But you’re worried about interfering when it is someone’s time, aren’t you? Because if someone is hurt and dying, you won’t be able to stand by and allow that.”

He knew me all too well. “How do you know when it’s someone’s time?” I asked and then laughed at the absurdity of the question. “How would any of us know that?”

“We don’t.” His eyes met mine. “I think all we can do is what feels right. It felt right for you to save that girl. But maybe another time will come when it won’t feel right.”

I couldn’t imagine a time when helping someone wouldn’t feel right, but that kind of unanswerable question would have to wait. We needed to get ready for the day.

A nervous sort of energy buzzed through me that had nothing to do with our conversation as I changed into black leggings and a sleeveless wrap tunic dyed in a shade that reminded me of Jasper’s hair and fur. I was surprised that the delicate silver chain held the tunic together, and I only hoped it remained that way throughout the day. The last thing I needed was to expose the nearly transparent slip I wore underneath.

Then again, considering how Casteel’s father had last seen me, it probably wouldn’t come as much of a shock.

But I just wanted things to go smoothly between his parents and me because I knew if they didn’t, the path would be rocky between Casteel and his parents going forward.

The moment I joined him in the sitting room, his fingers found their way into the waves and curls of my hair. “I love your hair like this,” he murmured. “I’m beginning to think you do this because you know I become distracted by it.”

I grinned as we stepped outside the room, my nervousness easing a bit. “Maybe,” I said, even though I’d totally left it down because I knew he liked it like this.

And because I’d spent years with the heavy length pinned tightly back and up.

“Did you still want to see Kirha before we leave?” he asked.

I nodded. I’d mentioned this morning that I wanted to thank her for the clothing and her hospitality before we left to meet with the current Queen and King of Atlantia. Casteel had already sent word ahead of our impending arrival. With his hand folded around mine, he led me out into the breezeway, where ceiling fans churned overhead, stirring the scent of cinnamon and cloves that seeped out from the open windows of rooms facing the pathway.

If it weren’t for the faded, oily stains on the walkway and the darkening of the dirt every couple of yards, it would be hard to imagine that those faceless creatures had been here two nights before. But they had, and Casteel and I were prepared in case the Gyrms appeared once more. I carried the wolven dagger hidden beneath my tunic, and Casteel had two short swords strapped to his sides. We also weren’t alone.

A wolven with fur as dark as Stygian Bay prowled along the top of the courtyard wall, tracking our progress. I had a feeling he or she wasn’t the only wolven nearby as we stepped out from the breezeway and onto an earthen path lined with tall palms. The fan-shaped leaves provided adequate shade from the late-morning sun as we followed the winding walkway. Bursts of color from tiny wildflowers and vivid pink and purple blossoms peeked out from the tangled vines that swept over the walls in some sections and blanketed most of the garden floor. The garden was nothing like the showy and wildly diverse ones in Masadonia, but I liked the earthy, natural feel of it. And I had a feeling that no matter how many times one walked the pathways, they would find something new among the foliage.

We rounded a bend, and a patio became visible. Several stone benches and wooden stools that appeared to have been crafted from the trunks of trees encircled a large fire pit. The gray stone patio led straight to the open doors of an airy, sun-drenched room.

Among the plants placed on small tables and growing from large clay pots on the tile floor, oversized chairs with thick cushions and brightly colored ottomans were situated in clusters next to wide couches and settees. Large floor pillows in every shade of blue imaginable were scattered across the floor, but Kirha Contou sat on a plush, teal rug in the center of the room, legs crossed, and her head bowed. Narrow rows of small, tight braids were swept up and pinned back from her face as she rooted around in a basket of yarn. Her son was with her.

Wearing all black, Kieran stood out rather starkly in the colorful room. He sat beside her, leaning against one of the chair backs, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He held a ball of orange yarn in one hand and a white one in the other. Several more lay in his lap, and the image of him sitting there, a faint smile softening the handsome lines of his face as he watched his mother, would be forever imprinted on my brain.

Both of them looked up as Casteel and I neared the doors. My senses were open, and their emotions immediately stretched out, the cool splash of surprise I felt from Kieran as the orange ball of yarn fell from his hand and rolled across the rug caught me a little off guard. If Kieran had been aware that Casteel and I had witnessed his…activities in the shadows, he showed no sign of it as we’d ridden back to his family home under a sky blanketed by endless stars.

Even if he did, I didn’t think that was the source of the surprise. I had no idea what it was as I focused on the woman beside him.

His mother was utterly beautiful—the spitting image of Vonetta from her deep, rich brown skin and broad cheekbones to the full mouth that seemed to hint at a laugh. What I felt from her also reminded me of her daughter. The taste of smooth vanilla was as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold night.

I realized I had seen her before when I first arrived here. She’d been in the crowd of wolven and had smiled as Casteel and I bickered.

“Kieran,” Casteel drawled. He squeezed my hand as we stepped through the doors and then let go. “Are you knitting me a shirt?”

The wolven’s expression smoothed out. “That is exactly what I’m doing,” he replied, his tone flat.

“He’s actually very good with the needles,” Kirha said, placing the basket aside.

The syrupy-sweet taste of embarrassment radiated from Kieran as his cheeks deepened in color. His gaze narrowed on his mother. My brows lifted as the image that had been branded in my mind was now replaced by one that included Kieran knitting a shirt.

That was something that would never leave my mind.

Kirha started to rise as Casteel rushed to say,” You don’t need to get up.”

“Oh, but I do. I’ve been sitting for so long, I feel like my legs have gone numb,” she replied as balls of yarn spilled from Kieran’s lap and tumbled across the carpet. He took hold of his mother’s arm, aiding her.

Kirha murmured her thanks as she straightened. Under the lavender, sleeveless gown she wore, her swollen stomach pulled at the light material. She pressed a hand behind her hip and stretched her back. “Good gods, this better be the last baby.”

“Yeah, well, someone needs to make sure your husband gets that through his thick skull,” Kieran muttered.

“Your father will when he’s constantly changing diapers again. I birth them, he cleans them,” she remarked, grinning when Kieran wrinkled his nose. “That’s the deal.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Casteel murmured.

My stomach dropped so fast I almost toppled over as my wide eyes shot to Casteel. For some reason, I hadn’t even thought about…babies since the cavern—since I had thought he didn’t want to have children with me. I’d been hurt then, which had been irrationally silly, considering we hadn’t even admitted our feelings to one another yet. He was still taking the herb that prevented pregnancy, and as a Maiden, I’d believed I would Ascend. Having children was never something I’d ever considered, so it wasn’t something that lingered in my mind. But now it was dancing at the center. A baby. Babies. Casteel’s and my baby. Casteel holding a small, swaddled infant. My lips parted on a thin inhale. That was really something I did not need to think about at the moment.

“Poppy looks faint.” Kieran smirked.

Casteel turned to look at me, his brows lowering as concern echoed through him. “Are you all right?”

I blinked, shoving the unnecessary image out of my head as I stepped forward. “Yes. I’m fine.” I plastered a big smile across my face before either of them could ferret out where my mind had gone. “We didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay here, and for the clothing.”

A ready smile appeared on Kirha’s face as she clasped my arms. “No need to thank me. Our home has always been open to Cas. Therefore, it will always be open to you,” she said, and the sincerity in her words was clear. “I’m glad you like the clothing. I must say, you look far too beautiful for this one over here.” She jerked her chin at Cas.

“Ouch,” Casteel murmured, placing a hand over his heart. “My feelings. They hurt.”

Kirha laughed as she pulled me into a close hug—well, as close as I could get with the belly between us, but the embrace was warm and unexpected and so…nice. It was the kind of hug I hadn’t felt in ages. One I secretly hoped I’d receive from Queen Eloana upon my arrival. This kind of embrace was the type a mother would give, and it brought forth a rush of bittersweet emotions. Nothing about my smile was forced when she pulled back, clasping my arms once more. “I am so happy to meet you.” Her gaze swept over my face, not lingering on the scars. “I hope you are feeling well?”

I nodded. “I am.”

“Good.” She squeezed my arms and then let go, placing a hand on her belly. “Kieran told me you met Vonetta?”

“I have,” I said as Casteel appeared at my side, resting his palm on the center of my back. “Vonetta was so kind to me. She let me borrow one of her gowns and helped me get ready for the marriage ceremony. I hope I get to see her again soon.”

“What about me?” Kieran asked, and his mother and I looked at him. “I’ve been kind to you.”

“Someone sounds like they’re already experiencing middle-child syndrome,” Casteel murmured under his breath.

“And I’m also, like, standing right here,” Kieran added. “In front of you.”

My lips twitched as I glanced at him. “You are…okay.”

“Okay?” he repeated with a huff of offense, crossing his arms.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Kirha said. “He’s annoyed because the Healers believe he will soon have another younger sister.”

Casteel chuckled. “You and Jasper are about to be sorely outnumbered.”

“Tell me about it,” Kieran muttered.

“When are you due?” I asked.

“Within a month, if the gods are willing,” she answered, rubbing her stomach. “And not a day too soon. I swear this child is already as large as Kieran.”

“That sounds disturbing,” Kieran frowned, and I had to agree with him on that. “You said you were going to see your parents?”

Casteel nodded. “We are headed there now.”

“Then I will go with you.” Kieran turned to his mother. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Your father should be here any moment now. He can help me with this.” She gestured at the yarn. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to assist me.”

The look on Kieran’s face said he doubted that as Casteel and I helped gather up the wayward balls of yarn, placing them next to the basket.

“Penellaphe?” Kirha stopped us as we turned to leave. “I know you didn’t meet Casteel’s parents under the best of circumstances.”

His expression was stoic as I glanced at him. “No, I did not.”

“And for that, I am even more saddened by what was done to you,” she said. “Eloana and Valyn are good people. They never would’ve allowed what happened if they had known. That, I know for sure. And once they get past the initial shock of everything that has occurred, I also know that Eloana will accept you just as warmly and openly as I have.”

Once we were near the stables, I looked over at Kieran, still thinking about what Kirha had said before we left. “Your mother? Does she have a way of knowing things like your father?” Like you, went unsaid.

He frowned slightly. “At times, yes. Why?”

Well, as I had expected, that hadn’t been an odd coincidence. “Nothing.” I shook my head, aware of Casteel listening intently. “I was just curious.”

“There were definitely some powerful changelings somewhere in both of their bloodlines,” Casteel remarked as he took Setti’s reins from an unfamiliar stablehand, his gaze drifting over his shoulder.

I saw three wolven in their true forms. One of them was the black one I’d spotted near the wall, but it was the mortal-looking female dressed in all black, breeches and tunic, that I focused on. I immediately recognized her, even though her pin-straight brown hair was pinned back at the nape of her neck.

It was Lyra.

I stole a glance at Kieran as she approached us, but I picked up on no real discernible emotion from either of them.

Stopping a few feet from us, Lyra dropped into a swift one-knee bow. “Meyaah Liessa,” she said. Behind her, the wolven lowered their heads to the ground.

Unsure of what to do with such a formal greeting after dancing around a bonfire with her the night prior, I glanced between Kieran and Casteel, the latter nodding reassuringly. Before I could say something most likely embarrassing, Lyra rose. Her pale gaze shifted to Casteel. “We will serve as your guards as you make this trip.”

“Thank you, Lyra,” Casteel said. “That is most appreciated.”

I nodded my agreement, hoping I didn’t look as ridiculous as I felt. I probably did. Lyra gave me a quick, lopsided smile as her gaze briefly connected with mine. I turned to see Casteel biting down on his lip as if he wanted to laugh, and I suspected it had nothing to do with my response to her greeting but had everything to do with what we’d watched last night. My eyes narrowed on him as I gripped the saddle, and he looked as if the struggle became even harder. I swung myself up onto Setti.

Casteel joined me, folding an arm around my waist while I stroked the side of Setti’s neck. As I watched Kieran mount his horse, I asked, “Is the bowing thing going to happen often?”

“Yes,” he answered, taking the reins of his horse.

“Why didn’t your mother do that?” I wondered out loud. “Not that I wanted her to, but I’m curious. Is it because she’s pregnant?” I doubted she would’ve been able to drop into such a position.

“I told her it would make you uncomfortable if she did,” Kieran answered. “Just like I told my father not to do it.”

My chest warmed. “You know what?”

He raised a brow as he looked down at me. “What?”

I reached over and patted his chest. “You’re more than okay.”

“Now that I know you think I’m more than okay, I can sleep well at night.” His tone was as dry as the Wastelands, but I grinned.

“By the way, when it happens again, you can say ‘You may rise,’” Casteel said as he nudged Setti into motion. “Or if you would like to use something less formal, you can simply say ‘Yes’ or greet them by name if you know who is before you. And before you ask them to cast the formality aside, please know that I have also asked that of many, and you’ve seen how well it worked for me.”

Not very well at all.

Sighing, I leaned against Casteel as we rode out of the courtyard. The wolven, now four of them, followed at a discreet distance.

“We won’t have to ride through the busiest parts of the city to get to the estate,” Casteel told me as we veered onto a paved road surrounded by tall, lush cypress trees. The wolven quickly disappeared into the thick foliage. “We can follow the bluffs straight to it. There will be people, but nothing like when we entered the city or yesterday.”

While I’d thoroughly enjoyed my all-too-quick visit to Saion’s Cove, my mind was already a twisted mess, focused on the upcoming meeting with Casteel’s parents. “Thank you.”

He dipped his head and kissed my cheek as Kieran sent him a wry look. “Don’t let him convince you that his motives are completely altruistic. He also doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of shouts and long looks of admiration.”

There had been a lot of them the day before.

“It makes me self-conscious,” Casteel said.

“Really?” I asked, and when Casteel agreed, I looked to Kieran for confirmation. “Is he lying to me?”

“A little.”

“He has no idea what he’s talking about,” Casteel claimed as the hand that had been resting on my hip inched across my lower stomach. His thumb moved, idly drawing circles around my navel.

“I think I’ll believe Kieran,” I decided.

“How dare you?” he teased, and I felt the nip of his sharp teeth against the curve of my neck. I jerked as a rush of heat flooded my system. “I am very shy.”

“And very delusional,” I retorted, glancing at the tall trees. With the thinness of the tunic, it felt like there was next to nothing between his hand and my skin.

It was hard not to show any reaction to his touch as glimpses of sandstone structures peeked out between the trees crowding the path. The farther we traveled, the lower his pinky finger roamed, and I began to see people behind the trees, loading carts and wagons with bushels and baskets. I wiggled a little when his finger danced lower, looking over my shoulder at him.

A look of pure innocence had settled on his features as he met my gaze. “Yes?”

I narrowed my eyes.

One side of his lips kicked up. The dimple in his right cheek appeared as a horse-drawn wagon neared the path. The driver’s wide-brimmed hat obscured his features, but I felt the cool jolt of surprise as he and the younger man, who appeared barely in his teens, walked alongside the large, gray horse.

The driver waved, and the young man quickly dropped to one knee before rising to also wave.

I started to lock up but forced myself to relax and behave somewhat normally by returning the greeting, along with Casteel and Kieran.

Feeling rather proud of myself, I smiled at the wolven as they passed the two on the road. While I wondered which of the wolven was Lyra, a woman appeared between the trees several yards ahead, the bright orange tunic flattering against her deep black skin. She kept an eye on a small child who chased after a golden-winged bird that hopped along the tree’s lower branches. Upon seeing us, a wide smile broke out across her face as she placed her hands on the child’s shoulders and whispered to her. The little girl looked over with an excited squeal and immediately started jumping on one foot and then the other.

Casteel chuckled under his breath as the woman shook her head and bowed at the waist, patiently coaxing the child to do the same. They too waved, and this time, I wasn’t frozen. I waved back like Casteel and Kieran had done, and it felt…less awkward. Like my arm wasn’t as stiff as it had been before. But I quickly forgot about what my arm looked and felt like as the little girl all but rushed from her mother and nearly tackled the black-and-white wolven. Choked laughter came from Kieran as the girl wrapped tiny arms around the wolven.

“Oh, gods, Talia,” the woman exclaimed. “What have I told you about randomly hugging people?”

I grinned as she gently untangled the girl from the wolven, who playfully nipped at one of her arms. A riot of giggles erupted from the child, and a second later, she was back to chasing the bird. The wolven she’d hugged trotted on, and I swore it smiled.

Once we passed, I looked back at Casteel. But before I could ask the same question as I had nearly every time we passed someone yesterday when I couldn’t tell if they were of Atlantian descent or one of the bloodlines, Casteel beat me to it. “Both were Atlantian,” he said, his thumb resuming the slow and utterly distracting circles. “The first were of Atlantian descent. Mortals. The last two were elemental.”

“Oh,” I whispered, focusing ahead. Atlantians had always been cooler toward me, with a few exceptions like Emil, Naill, and Elijah. My heart squeezed painfully as I thought of Elijah and Magda—of all those Atlantians, Descenters, and wolven senselessly murdered by the Ascended. Even then, I could hear Elijah’s deep belly laugh.

But yesterday, the vast majority of those we came across had been warm and welcoming, just like the ones we passed now. Could it be that those of like mind as the Unseen were truly a small fraction of the populace? Just as a tiny kernel of real hope formed in my chest, Casteel’s arm tightened around me.

Sometimes, I wondered if he knew where my thoughts had gone, which made me think of something else. “Do you have a changeling in your bloodline, Cas?”

“Not sure, but I can tell you something’s changing in my pants right now,” he murmured.

“Oh, my gods.” I barked out a loud laugh as several of the nearby wolven made rough, huffing sounds. “That was so…”

“Witty?” he suggested, while Kieran snorted.

“Stupid,” I said, biting down on my lip as a giggle snuck free. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Neither can I,” Kieran agreed, shaking his head. “But the Da’Neer bloodline is purer than his thoughts.”

I grinned as we passed small groups of people heading in and out of the narrow roads.

“It’s not my fault my thoughts are less than innocent,” Casteel countered, waving as someone stopped to bow. “I didn’t introduce myself to the world of Miss Willa.”

“Oh, my gods,” I grumbled, half-distracted by my attempts to read the emotions of those we passed.

“To be honest,” he continued, “I think I was more shocked about the fact that I was right, and she is Atlantian, than by anything else your father said.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I muttered.

Casteel laughed, and as we continued on, the nervousness from earlier returned. But then he handed over Setti’s reins and let me control and guide the horse. Eventually, the trees cleared, giving way to lush green grass that flowed to the very bluffs overlooking the sea. Ahead of us, a hedge of sorts surrounded a large circular Temple set on a high podium, its white columns rising against the deep blue of the sky. Beyond it, a row of lavender-colored, trumpet-shaped blossoms of jacaranda trees struck a familiar chord inside me. I’d loved the trees that grew abundantly around the garden outside Castle Teerman. They made me think of Rylan, a guard of mine who’d been killed by Jericho—a wolven who had been working with Casteel. A heaviness settled in my chest. Rylan hadn’t deserved to die like that.

And Casteel hadn’t deserved everything that had been done to him.

Two wrongs never made things right or better, nor did they cancel one another out. They just were.

All thoughts about what I’d done on the road here faded to the background as the wolven appeared at our sides as we rode past the Temple and under the shade of the mildly honey-scented jacaranda trees. I could see a garden of sorts through the hedge, one that must’ve opened to the Temple. The other end flowed to an elegant building of limestone and marble. Gold scroll accents were painted around open windows where gauzy white curtains swayed in the salty breeze from the sea. The center was a wide structure with numerous windows and doors, several stories tall, with a domed glass ceiling and spires that I’d seen upon my arrival. Sweeping, two-story wings connected by vine-covered breezeways flanked each side. Balconies jutted from the second floors, the curtains swept to the sides and cinched to pillars. Underneath, private verandas separated by walls covered by ivy and tiny pale blue blossoms rested. The Cove Palace wasn’t half the size or nearly as tall as Castle Teerman and would be dwarfed by Wayfair Castle, where the Queen and King of Solis resided. But it was beautiful, nonetheless.

Behind me, Casteel had stiffened. “The guards are new,” he said to Kieran.

Guards weren’t usually posted at the entrances to where the King and Queen were currently staying?

“That they are.” Kieran drew his horse closer to ours as he eyed the guards. “But not entirely a surprise.”

“No, they are not,” Casteel agreed.

The guards bowed deeply, but they watched the wolven with wary gazes. Suspicion tinged with curiosity radiated from them as we rode through the breezeway. I didn’t pick up on any outright hostility as I guided Setti past them, but they were definitely watchful as we entered the courtyard where a tiered fountain gurgled water. Crimson roses climbed the basin, scenting the air as we dismounted from the horses. Several stable hands appeared, taking the reins.

Placing a steadying hand on my lower back, Casteel guided me toward the rounded steps. A man dressed in a golden tunic stood at the door, bowing before opening both sides. My nervousness resurfaced with a vengeance as we entered a short hall that opened to a circular chamber. The last of the sunlight shone across the numerous rows of empty benches, and light spilled from electric-powered wall sconces inside alcoves on either side of the vast chamber. The space could easily accommodate several hundred, and I couldn’t help but notice how different this was from the Great Hall in Masadonia. There was little to no separation between where the people sat and the dais before them.

My eyes were trained on the white banners hanging on the back wall as Casteel led us to the left. In each banner’s center was an emblem embossed in gold, shaped like the sun and its rays. And at the center of the sun was a sword lying diagonally atop an arrow. It was then when I realized that the arrow and sword were not equally crossed. They met at the top instead of the middle, and I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed that before or why it stuck out to me now. But situated this way, the sword was actually longer, more prominent than the arrow.

“Has that always been the crest?” I asked.

Kieran shot me a quizzical look as we stopped before the banners. “You ask the most random things.”

Honestly, I did, so I couldn’t even muster up a retort.

“The crest can change with each ruler if they want.” Casteel glanced at the banners. “But it always contains the three symbols—the sun, the sword, and the arrow.”

“So this isn’t the one your mother and father chose?”

He shook his head. “I believe this was what King Malec chose,” he told me, and I was a little surprised to hear that his choice for a crest hadn’t changed.

“The sun represents Atlantia?” I surmised, eyeing the crest. “And, let me guess, the sword represents Malec, and the arrow your mother?”

“You would be right,” Casteel answered. “You don’t like it, do you?”

I shook my head.

“What about it don’t you like?”

“The sword and arrow aren’t equal,” I told him. “They should be equal.”

One side of his lips curved up. “Yeah, they should be.”

“They were equal at one time,” Kieran said, now looking up at the banners. “Before Malec, and when two deities sat on the thrones. I imagine the sword is more prominent because, technically, Malec was far stronger than Queen Eloana.” He sent Casteel an apologetic look. “No offense.”

“Technically or not, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” I said before Casteel could respond.

Kieran’s wintery gaze met mine. “If you take the Crown, many will expect the arrow to become more prominent, as you are more powerful than Cas.”

“If I take the Crown, the arrow and sword will be equal,” I returned. “A King and Queen should be of equal power, no matter what blood courses through their veins.”

The wolven grinned. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

I opened my mouth, but he brushed past me, walking along and leaving me staring at his back. “He’s annoying,” I muttered to Casteel.

“But he’s right.” Casteel looked down at me, his eyes like warm honey. “I would expect nothing less from you, either.”

I glanced back at the banners, thinking they needed to be changed, whether I took the Crown or not.

Pulling my gaze from the banners, we caught up with Kieran as we moved through a hall that opened to breezeways on either side and flowed straight into a large banquet hall. The table could seat an army, but it sat empty with only a vase of peonies in the center. We walked through a smaller room, one with a smaller, round table that appeared recently wiped down, and chairs with gray seat cushions. I caught a glimpse of my wide eyes in a mirror on the wall and quickly looked ahead. In front of us was a door, slightly ajar, and two Guards of the Crown. Both men bowed, and then one stepped aside as the other reached for the door.

The muted sounds of conversation drifted out of the room, and my heart skipped several beats. My steps slowed. What if Kirha was wrong? What if Casteel’s parents had only grown angrier after their shock faded? His father hadn’t been rude the night before, but we had only been in each other’s presence for mere minutes.

And I had thought he’d been about to use the sword on me. His father had known that, too.

I stared at the door, heart thrumming. Who could blame them if they never accepted me? I was an outsider, the former Maiden of the Ascended, who’d taken their son and was possibly on the verge of taking more than that.

Their kingdom.