Running my fingers over the cool handle crafted from wolven bone, a faint smile tugged at my lips as I thought of the man who’d gifted me the dagger on my sixteenth birthday.
Neither Vikter nor I had known exactly when my birthday was. He’d said the same thing as Casteel: Pick a day. I’d chosen April twentieth.
I had no idea where he’d gotten such a blade. I’d never seen another. When he gave it to me, he’d placed his hand over mine and said, “This weapon is as unique as you. Take good care of it, and she will return the favor.”
My smile grew, relieved that I could think of Vikter without drowning in grief. The sorrow was still there. It always would be. But it had gotten easier.
“I hope you’re proud of me,” I whispered. Proud of my choice to lead the Atlantian armies, to take the same risks as the soldiers and weather whatever marks this war left behind. After all, he had taught me the importance of that.
Like when I’d accidentally discovered what those white handkerchiefs tacked to the doors of homes in Masadonia meant, and how Vikter had helped those families inside, those who couldn’t carry through on what needed to be done. He gave those cursed—those infected by a Craven’s bite
—a quick, honorable death before they became a monster that would attack their family and anyone else who came near them. A peaceful death instead of the public execution the Ascended liked to carry out for the cursed.
I’d asked him once how he could be surrounded by so much death and remain untouched by it. For the longest time, I didn’t understand his answer.
“I’m not untouched by it. Death is death. Killing is killing, Poppy, no matter how justified it is. Every death leaves a mark behind, but I do not expect anyone to take a risk that I would not take. Nor would I ask another to bear a burden I refused to shoulder or feel a mark I haven’t felt myself.”
I eventually understood what he meant when I saw the true extent of how many—young and old—were really infected. There were a couple of dozen executions a year, but in reality, hundreds were infected. Hundreds of mortals cursed while doing what the Ascended would not do for themselves, even though they were stronger, faster, and far more resistant to injury than a mortal.
I thought I understood. But now? I sheathed the wolven dagger to my thigh. Now, I realized that Vikter’s words had meant far more than just aiding the cursed. He wasn’t a Descenter, but looking back, I suspected that he had been talking about the Ascended. The Blood Crown, who asked so much of those they were supposed to serve while doing so very little for them.
Whether I was a Maiden or Queen, a mortal or a god, I would never allow myself to become someone who would not take the very same risks I asked of others. Nor would I refuse to carry those marks Vikter had spoken of while expecting others to bear that kind of weight.
Tightening the thin strap that lay diagonally across my chest, I picked up a short sword made of iron and bloodstone. Far lighter than the golden Atlantian weapons, I slid the blade into the scabbard secured against my back so the grip was facing downward, near my hip.
Laid across the map, the remaining weapons beckoned in the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window. I planted a booted foot on the chair and reached for a steel blade. My fingers skimmed the straps holding my shin guards in place. I slid the dagger into the shaft of my boot and switched feet, placing a matching one in the other. Then I picked up a slender spike of bloodstone with a hilt no wider than my arm. I slid that into a forearm sheath. It was a favorite of Vonetta’s. She normally carried one on each arm while in her mortal form. I secured the second short sword, strapping it to my back so it crossed the first, and the pommel sat at my left hip. Picking up the final blade, a brutal, curved one, I glanced down at myself, wondering exactly where I would place it.
“Do you think you have enough weapons?”
I looked up to see Valyn standing in the doorway. I hadn’t seen him since he’d left yesterday.
Throat warming, I glanced down at myself. “I don’t think you can ever have enough weapons.”
“Normally, I would agree with that statement,” he said, his hand resting on the hilt of one of the three swords I could see on him. I was sure the gold and steel armor hid more. “But you will be the deadliest weapon on that battlefield.”
My stomach tumbled a little as I lowered the sickle-shaped blade. “I hope I won’t have to use that kind of weapon.”
Valyn’s head cocked in a painfully familiar way that twisted my heart as he eyed me. “You really mean that.”
“I do.” I wasn’t sure why, but Valyn’s observation nagged at me. Why had I picked up so many weapons? My brows knitted as I tried to understand my apparently unconscious choices. “I just… The abilities I have can be used to heal. I’d rather use them for that.” I looked up at him as I hooked the sickle blade to my hip. “Unless I have to use them to fight. And if I do, I won’t hesitate.”
“I didn’t think you would.” He continued staring, though not at the scars. “You look like…”
I knew how I appeared.
My lip curled as I eyed the sleeve of my gown—the white gown. The night in New Haven, when I decided that I could no longer be the Maiden, I’d made promises to myself. One of those was that I would never be garbed in white again.
I’d broken that promise today with the aid of Naill and the wolven, Sage. The linen gown was one of two that had been constructed from one of Kieran’s tunics, the hem ending at the knees and the sides left open to allow me to reach the wolven dagger strapped to my thigh. Under it, I wore a pair of thick tights that I’d borrowed from Sage. The stitches had been loosened, as the wolven was at least a size or two smaller than I, and then reinforced. Both were a pure, pristine white, as were the armor plates at my shoulders, and my breastplates. Naill had even managed to tack white cloth over the thin armor. He’d done an amazing job, providing exactly what I’d asked for, and then he’d doubled it. There was another gown. Another pair of tights.
I hated it with every fiber of my being.
But what I wore would serve a purpose. I was not the Queen any mortal would recognize. The gilded crown meant nothing to them.
The white of the Maiden did.
“How you imagined the Maiden looked?” I finished for him. “Except, normally, I wore a veil instead of armor and…” My cheeks warmed again. “And not nearly as many weapons.”
He gave a quick shake of his head, causing a strand of hair to slip free from the knot he’d tied the rest back in. It fell across his cheek. “I was going to say you look like one of my favorite paintings.”
“Oh.” I shifted a bit awkwardly.
“Of the goddess, Lailah, to be exact. Not in physical appearance, but the armor and straight spine. The strength. There’s actually a painting in the palace. Not sure if you had a chance to see it, but it’s of the Goddess of Peace and Vengeance. She wore white armor.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“I think you would like it.”
I couldn’t help but think of Casteel and what he would think if he saw me like this. He would approve of the weapons. Greatly. The gown?
He’d probably tear it off and set it afire.
Thoughts of Casteel made me think of the dream—and what it could mean. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Ask away.”
“Kieran thought you may know if it’s possible for heartmates to walk in each other’s dreams.”
“I remember reading something that made that claim. They actually called it…” Valyn’s brow creased. “Soul walking. Not dream walking. Said that the souls could find each other, even in dreams.” His expression smoothed out. “Did something like that happen?”
It took everything in me not to allow the dream to form in any sort of detail. “I had a dream that was incredibly vivid. It didn’t feel like a normal dream, and I think Casteel realized it was different, too, right before I woke up. I mean, I could be wrong, and it could’ve just been a dream.”
“I think it’s exactly what you believe. Soul walking between heartmates,” he said. “My son said he believed you were his heartmate— not that he needed to tell me that. I saw it for myself after the attack at the Chambers of Nyktos when he awoke to find that you’d been taken. I saw it in your eyes and heard it in your voice when you spoke of your plans to go
to Carsodonia. You two have found something so very few ever experience.”
“We have,” I whispered, my throat tightening.
Valyn smiled, but the faint lines of his face seemed deeper as he let out a rough breath. “I passed Kieran on the way to see you,” Valyn stated, much to my relief. “I could tell he worried about why I wanted to speak with you. Other than his family, the only other person I’ve ever seen him this loyal to is Casteel. And that kind of loyalty goes beyond any sort of bond—even a Primal notam.” He turned his head toward me, his golden eyes sheltered. “He’s good for you. For both of you.”
“I know.” I opened my senses to Valyn and brushed up against what reminded me of a Rise. The urge to find the cracks I knew had to be in his shields hit me again. Reaching for the pouch at my hip instead of the ring, I squeezed the toy horse and pushed past the need. “If you’re here to try to convince me not to go to Carsodonia, I…I appreciate your concern—more than you probably realize,” I admitted. “But I have to do this.”
“I wish there was something I could say that would change your mind, but you’re stubborn. Like my son. Like both my sons.” He touched the back of a chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Of course, not.” I moved to the seat across from him and sat in the thick, upholstered chair.
“Thank you.” The armor creaked as he lowered, stretching out his right leg. “I know I can’t change your mind, but I’m worried. A lot can happen. A lot can go wrong. If we lose you in addition to them—”
“They’re not lost. We know where they are. I’m going to find them,” I told him. “And maybe Malik is—” I drew in a deep breath, squeezing the horse again. “Maybe Malik is lost to us. But Casteel isn’t. I will get him back, and I will do as you asked before if necessary.”
A ragged breath left him, and he appeared to take a few moments to collect himself.
Slowly, I extended my left hand and showed him my palm—my marriage imprint. “He’s alive. Sometimes, I need to be reminded of that,” I whispered. “He lives.”
Valyn stared at my hand for what felt like a small eternity, then his eyes briefly closed. I’d kept my senses open, and for a moment, I picked up on something from him—something that reminded me of the sour green
mangos that Tawny had enjoyed with breakfast every so often. Was it guilt? Shame? It was too brief to know for sure.
“With everything that has been happening, there hasn’t been a lot of time, but there’s something we need to talk about. And I have walked this realm long enough to know there’s not always a later,” he said, and my chest clenched. I knew anything could happen, but I didn’t want to think about that happening to him. “I know what you discussed with my wife upon your return to Evaemon,” he announced.
Every muscle in my body tensed, but my grip on the toy horse loosened.
He leaned back in the chair, rubbing his knee. “I know that you were angry with her.”
“I still am.” I slid my hand from the pouch before I did something stupid, like accidentally set it on fire. “That is not in the past.”
“And you have every right to be. As does Casteel and Malik if he…” He exhaled roughly. “I’m not here to speak for Eloana, only for myself. I’m sure you’ve wondered if I knew the truth about the Blood Queen.”
I flattened my hands on my thighs. “I have. It’s one of the things I think about when I can’t sleep at night,” I shared. “Did you know? I’m willing to bet Alastir did.”
“He did,” Valyn confirmed, and if Alastir hadn’t already been ripped to pieces and most likely consumed by the wolven, I would’ve dug up his body just so I could stab him again. Repeatedly. “He knew before I did.”
Surprise flickered through me, but I didn’t trust my reaction. “Really?” “I had assumed that she died, either before the war or during it. I
believed that for many years,” he said, and I kept myself quiet and still. “Eloana never spoke of her or Malec, and I let it be because I knew it was difficult for her. That a part of her loved him, although he wasn’t deserving of such a gift. That a part of her would always love him, even though she loves me.”
Now that did surprise me. Valyn knew what Eloana had admitted to me, and I didn’t think for a moment that knowledge lessened how much Valyn loved her. A measure of respect grew in me for the man. Because if Casteel felt that way for Shea, I would be consumed by irrational jealousy.
“It wasn’t until she took Casteel the first time that Eloana told me what she had learned about the Queen of Solis,” he continued, the muscle under his temple ticking again. “I was…” A dry laugh left him. “Furious doesn’t quite capture what I felt then. If I had known the truth, I never would’ve
retreated. I would’ve known that we couldn’t end the war that way. That there was too much personal history for there to ever be an end, and maybe that’s why she kept it a secret for so long. Or maybe it was because the lie had somehow become an unbreakable truth that held things together. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I need to tell the truth now. I didn’t know from the beginning, but I knew the truth about her for long enough. The whole situation is…hard and complicated.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“You’re right,” he agreed quietly. “It just is.”
Anger simmered in my blood and at the core of my chest, seeping into those cold, empty parts of me. “You knew long enough to have warned Malik. To tell Casteel and me. If we had known the truth, we could’ve been better prepared. We could’ve decided there was no reason to attempt to negotiate with Isbeth,” I said, and tension bracketed his mouth at the mention of her name. “If we had known, we could’ve located Malec and gotten leverage. At any point, either of you could’ve done that. But doing that would crack the foundation of Atlantia’s lies. So, I don’t remotely care how complicated and hard the situation was. Neither of you told the truth because you were both afraid of how it would affect you—how people looked upon you. Whether you would still have the support of the people if they learned that the Queen of Solis was the mistress their Queen had tried to kill. That Isbeth was never a vampry. She wasn’t the first Ascended. Atlantia was built on lies, just like Solis.”
“I…I cannot disagree with any of that,” he said, holding my gaze. “And if we could go back and do the right thing, we would. We would’ve told the truth about her.”
“Her name is Isbeth.” My fingers dug into my legs. “Not speaking her name doesn’t change that it is her.”
Valyn lowered his chin, nodding. “Nor does that make it any easier to speak her name. Or think that she is your mother. Truly, we believed that you were possibly a deity, a descendant of one of the mortals Malec had an affair with. We didn’t know what he was until you told us.” He paused. “Though I am grateful to have learned that he’s not your father. Twins. Malec and Ires. That explains why you share some of his features.”
The shock Eloana had felt when I told her that Malec was a god had been too vivid to have been fabricated. I’d wanted to ask if that knowledge
would’ve changed what they would’ve done with the truth regarding Isbeth, but I didn’t. What was the point? His answer would change nothing.
“Did Eloana tell you about Isbeth and Malec’s son?” I asked, remembering what Eloana had told me.
“She did.” He dragged a hand over his chin. “And I believed her when she said that she was unaware of the child until Alastir told her.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed that. Because they had known that Alastir had located what they believed to be a descendant of Malec’s, and that their advisor—their friend—had left that child, who happened to be me, to be killed by the Craven. They had made peace with such a horrific act because they had believed Alastir was acting in the best interests of Atlantia.
I hadn’t blamed them for what Alastir had done. I still didn’t. I held them responsible for what they knew and what they chose to do with that knowledge—or not do.
“I have a lot of regret,” Valyn said roughly. “So does my wife. I don’t ask for forgiveness. Neither would Eloana.”
That was good to know because I wasn’t sure how I felt about either of them. But forgiveness was never the issue for me. That was easy. Sometimes, too easy. It was understanding and accepting why they did what they did, and I hadn’t had time to come to terms with that. “Then what is it you’re asking for?”
“Nothing.” His gaze met mine again. “I just wanted you to know the truth. I didn’t want that to go unspoken between us.”
I thought there may be another reason that went beyond clearing the air with me. He wanted me to know in case he never saw his sons again. So I would be able to tell them what he’d shared with me.
Silence stretched out, and I didn’t know what to say or do. It was Valyn who broke the quiet. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I said. “I expect to see you on the other side of this.”
The smile returned, lessening some of the deep lines. “You will.”
We left the manor then, Emil and a small horde of Crown Guards who seemed to have appeared out of thin air flanking me. Valyn reached out, clasping my shoulder briefly as we neared the armies waiting at the edge of the property, then he walked ahead.
As the soldiers became aware of my arrival, they placed their sword hands to their hearts and bowed. The pressure of their gazes, their trust, weighed down my steps. My entire body hummed, but the salty, nutty
flavor of their resolve calmed my nerves. There would be no big speeches
—no pomp or display of authority. They knew what to do today.
I joined Kieran at the front, where he stood beside Setti and another horse. Only Emil followed now. The Crown Guards joined the divisions.
The wolven looked over his shoulder. A cool splash of surprise reached me as he turned, watching my approach.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I hate what you’re wearing.” “Join the club.”
“It’s a club I want no part of.” He looked away, eyeing the former King as he joined Sven and Cyr. “Is everything all right? I saw Valyn enter your room.”
“It is.” I took Setti’s reins from Kieran and then gripped the saddle, hoisting myself onto him. As I got seated, the sight of the wolven general snagged my attention. Lizeth cut through the rows of soldiers, making her way toward the Commander of the Crown Guard. Hisa would remain with Valyn and the generals to ensure that our plans were followed.
Hisa turned from her horse, clasping the back of Lizeth’s head. Her fingers tangled in the blond strands. Concern radiated from her. “Be careful.”
The female wolven pressed her forehead to Hisa’s. “But be brave,” she replied, kissing her.
“Always,” Hisa confirmed.
“But be brave,” I whispered, looking away. I liked that. Be careful but be brave.
And we would all be that today.
