Casteel’s hand slipped from my neck as shock rippled through him. For a moment, I thought he might drop his glass of whiskey. “Are you for real?”
Kieran closed the thick book. “He can’t be.” “It’s true,” Jasper confirmed.
The room was thick with tangy confusion. “How is it possible that no one figured that out?” I asked. “That no one attempted to cross the mountain or take to the sea in a ship?”
“More than just words have hidden Iliseeum’s location.” Jasper tilted forward, resting his arms on his bent knees. “Iliseeum is well-protected by land and sea.”
“The eather—like the mist in the Skotos Mountains?” I guessed.
Jasper nodded. “As both my son and Cas know, the sea is too rough to travel on once any ship nears Iliseeum’s coast.”
“It’s not just rough waters.” Casteel’s hand returned to the base of my neck. His fingers moved in a slow, steady slide as he said, “Sea stacks around the coast can tear a ship apart in minutes if one gets close enough to even see through the mist that obscures the coastline. Just like the mist from the Skotos protects the shores of Atlantia from both the Stroud Sea and Seas of Saion.”
“We tried once—Casteel and I—when we were younger. We tried to take a ship as close to the coast as we could, to see if any part of the land was habitable,” Kieran said. “We damn near drowned in the process.”
“That’s because you’re both idiots,” Jasper replied, and I blinked.
Casteel took a healthy drink of his whiskey. “Can’t really argue with that.”
“Wait.” I frowned. “The Stroud Sea reaches the coasts of Atlantia? I thought the Skotos mountain range extended into the water and—”
“Traveled to the ends of the realm?” Casteel finished for me. “No. That’s why the mist is so thick. It makes it appear as if the mountains are hidden behind it, but that’s only so no one attempts to travel through it.”
I gave a little shake of my head and refocused. “What about traveling through the mountains?”
“The Mountains of Nyktos are impossible to cross by Atlantian or mortal. The mist there? That kind of magic is deadly.” Jasper’s wintry gaze flicked between his son and the Prince before returning to me. “You would possibly be the only one who could cross the mountains.”
Casteel glanced down at me, and his lips twisted in a faint smile. “You are just special.”
I ignored that. “So, it causes hallucinations like the mist in the Skotos?”
“No.” Jasper laughed, shaking his head. “The magic in these mountains suffocates anyone who it doesn’t recognize as a god.”
My mouth dropped open. “Oh. Okay. That’s a lot.” I twisted the sash of the robe around my hand. “But I’m a descendant of a god. I’m not a god. Those two things are vastly different.”
Jasper raised his brows. “I don’t think we know exactly what you are, and that is a hill I am willing to crash and burn on.”
I closed my mouth because he was right.
“Then how did anyone cross over to Iliseeum to obtain the soil?” Kieran veered us back on track.
“A few know how to bypass the mountains.” Jasper leaned back, resting an ankle on a knee.
We all waited for him to continue. And waited.
I stared at him. “You going to tell us how?”
Jasper eyed each of us for a long moment before settling on Casteel. “Your father and your mother have killed to keep Iliseeum’s location hidden.” His voice was as quiet and cold as falling snow. “So have I.”
Casteel’s head cocked slightly to the side as his hand stilled along the back of my neck. “And I’m inclined to kill to discover the truth.”
A chill swept down my back as Jasper grinned at the Prince, either unbothered by the threat or not aware of what that too-flat tone signaled. Bloody things usually followed his usage of that tone. “I don’t think there needs to be any sort of killing,” I ventured.
“That’s rich coming from you,” Kieran commented.
My head snapped in his direction. “I’m trying to deescalate the situation.”
Kieran snorted.
“What’s rich is that you’ve all killed to keep the Lands of the Gods secret,” Casteel said. “And yet, the Unseen obviously discovered how to travel to Iliseeum. That is, unless there is a bucket of Iliseeum soil I’m unaware of.”
“I don’t believe there’s a bucket of soil lying around,” Jasper advised, eyes glimmering as amusement filtered from him to me. “Most wouldn’t even have the knowledge of how to use such magic—only the oldest of our kind. And I imagine the Unseen would have known when they were more prevalent. I’m guessing they must’ve kept records of such things.”
“Other than you and my parents, I assume Alastir knew?” Casteel drew his hand down my spine. Jasper nodded. “Who else has that knowledge?”
“Very few who are still alive.” Jasper drew a finger over the stubble covering his chin. “I believe Hisa knows. As does Dominik—another of the commanders.”
“I remember him. He’s one of the oldest elementals,” Casteel told me, lifting his glass as his gaze flicked back to Jasper. “Is he in Saion’s Cove?”
“He’s in Evaemon, as far as I know. Or just outside of the capital,” he explained. “I imagine Wilhelmina knows—” Casteel choked on his drink as my mouth dropped open. Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “You okay over there?”
“Wait,” Casteel coughed again, eyes watering. “Wait a godsdamn second. Wilhelmina? Who is Wilhelmina?”
Jasper frowned, clearly confused. “You never met Willa?” Oh, my gods. There was no way.
“What is her last name?” Casteel asked.
Please don’t say Colyns. Please don’t say Colyns, I repeated over and over as Kieran’s father stared at Casteel as if he’d lost his mind. “I think it’s Colyns.”
My jaw was now in my lap. Godsdamnit, Casteel’s theory had been right. Miss Willa was an Atlantian. I couldn’t believe it—wait. Did that mean she was here, in Atlantia?
Oh, wow, if so, I had…so many questions for her.
“Last I heard, she was in Evaemon, or nearby in Aegea,” Jasper answered.
Casteel slowly turned to me, his lips curving into a smile wide enough that his dimples had already appeared. “I can’t say I’ve met her personally, but Poppy might—”
“I have never met her!” I all but shouted as I twisted toward him, punching his thigh.
“Ouch.” Leaning away from me, he rubbed his leg as he laughed. “What is going on with you two?” Jasper asked.
“Apparently, there’s a Willa who wrote a sex diary of some sort,” Kieran said with a sigh. “It’s Poppy’s favorite book or something.”
I turned to the wolven as Casteel made a choking sound again. “It is not my favorite book.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of if it is,” he said with an indifferent shrug, but I tasted his sugary amusement.
“A sex book?” Jasper repeated. I was going to wither up and die right
here.
Kieran nodded. “Cas was just saying he thought Willa might be an
Atlantian because of a—”
“Okay,” I cut in before Kieran or Casteel could go into that further. “None of that is really important right now.”
“Oh, I disagree.” Casteel stretched over, placing his drink on a small table by the settee. “Is Willa an elemental? Something else? And you had no idea that Miss Willa Colyns is a popular biographer of a certain aspect of her life in Solis?”
Gods, I hated all of them right now. I hated myself even more for wanting to know the answers.
“She’s of the changeling bloodline, I believe,” Jasper answered, his forehead creasing. “Though sometimes I wonder about that. But no, I didn’t know that. Explains a lot, though, now that I think about it.”
Kieran’s lip curled, but Casteel looked even more interested in what that meant. I held up my hand and said, “Why would she know about Iliseeum?”
“Because Willa is old,” Jasper said. “She is the oldest changeling that I know of. She is one of Atlantia’s Elders.”
“How old is oldest?” I prodded.
He raised a brow. “Pushing two thousand years old.”
“W-what?” I stuttered, thinking of Cillian Da’Lahon, who The History of The War of Two Kings and the Kingdom of Solis claimed saw over two thousand and seven hundred years before his death. “Is that common? To live that long?”
Jasper nodded. “In times of peace and prosperity, yes.”
“And, yes, a wolven can live that long, too,” Kieran chimed in before I could ask.
My mind was…well, it couldn’t even comprehend living that long. How did one not grow tired of everything after that many years? I thought about the subject matter in Willa’s book, and figured that probably explained a lot.
I shook my head, hoping it would clear. “Can she do what Jansen could? Take on others’ images?”
Jasper shook his head. “No. Jansen was…gods, he had to be the last of the changelings that could do that.”
As terrible as it sounded, I felt relief. “Who are the Elders of Atlantia?”
“They are a type of Council who helps to rule alongside the King and Queen when needed,” Casteel explained, tugging gently on my braid. “Normally, they are never called on unless a major decision needs to be made. The last time they came together was when Malik was taken, I believe.” A sharp swirl of anguish pulsed through him. “I wasn’t in Evaemon when that happened. I was here.”
He’d been here recovering, trying to piece himself back together. My chest ached for him.
“You better believe they’ve been called now,” Jasper’s tone was dry, and my stomach tumbled. “You just might get to ask Willa about the book you were talking about.”
Oh, gods.
While I did have a lot of questions for her, I wasn’t sure I could hold a conversation because I would be thinking about wicked kisses and foursomes.
But I really didn’t need to focus on that. Because if a Council had been convened, I knew why—my arrival and everything that had happened.
“As much as I want to hear more about Miss Willa, we have more pressing things to deal with,” Casteel stated, surprising me. “How does one enter Iliseeum if they cannot do so by land or sea?”
Jasper didn’t answer for a long moment. “You know, you would’ve learned about it when you took the throne.” His gaze touched mine for a brief moment, and I knew what he meant. That Casteel would’ve learned when I took the Crown. “You don’t travel over or through the Mountains of Nyktos. You travel under them.”
An icy wave of surprise scuttled through Casteel. “The tunnel system?”
Jasper nodded. “The one from Evaemon leads into Iliseeum if—and that’s a big if—you know how to navigate it.”
“Damn,” Kieran muttered, scrubbing a hand over his head. “All those years messing around in those tunnels and we could’ve ended up in the damn Lands of the Gods.”
It struck me as a very odd coincidence that Casteel and Kieran had spent their childhood attempting to map out those tunnels and caverns, and this whole time, they could’ve taken Cas right to this Lands of the Gods. Had he or his brother been drawn to them? If so, had it been some sort of divine intervention?
 |
I stayed way too long in the shower the following morning, testing the limits of exactly how long the water would remain hot.
Feeling the warm water pelting my skin and washing the soapy suds away was truly too much of a magical feeling to rush. The shower felt like it cleansed more than soap, as if it were rinsing away the stickiness of confusion that prevented me from looking past the shock of everything I had discovered and learned. That could’ve been my imagination, but by the time I forced myself to turn off the faucets, I felt like I could face what today held.
What awaited me in Atlantia.
And maybe it wasn’t just the shower, but all the hours of deep sleep I’d ended up stacking up over the last day or so. It could’ve been last night, when Jasper had left, and Kieran wanted to discuss the tunnel systems. Casteel had taken the seat Kieran had occupied, rearranging me so I was all but cradled against him as they spoke. I was amazed by how much they
recalled regarding the tunnels, still able to remember the differences in certain underground rock formations and the scents that changed depending on which tunnel they were in. I’d only briefly been in the one that led to the beautiful, lilac-filled cavern in Spessa’s End, and the other that rested below New Haven, to view the names of those who had died at the hands of the Ascended.
So many more names needed to be added to that wall.
But as they talked, I couldn’t help but wonder if some kind of prophecy did exist. If hardly anyone knew that Iliseeum rested beyond the mountains, then was it possible for there to be a prophecy that no one knew about? Or was that comparing apples to oranges? I didn’t know.
Before Kieran left, I’d asked about the wolven named Sage—the one who was supposed to be patrolling the wall. She had been found on the other side of the wall, having been struck from behind. The injury and the subsequent fall from the wall would’ve either seriously injured or killed a mortal, but according to Kieran, who had checked in on the wolven before returning to our rooms with the book, she would recover in a day or so. Hearing that and learning that there had been no casualties among the wolven or anyone else who had engaged in the battle with the Gyrms had filled me with a lot of relief. That could’ve aided in me not feeling so overwhelmed.
It also could’ve been the sweet kiss that Casteel had given me after I woke this morning and before he left to shower. Or how his eyes were pools of warm gold when he looked upon me. Before he left the bed, he’d told me that his father’s visit had been borne of worry. That he hadn’t liked how things had ended between them in the Temple of Saion. I was glad to hear that they’d cleared the air between them—at least a little bit before those creatures showed. I also shared with him what I had confirmed with Kieran about being able to communicate with him. Casteel…well, he took in that newest development like he had everything else. He was curious, awed, and completely unbothered by it, and that helped me be somewhat unfazed by the fact that I had done something that only Nyktos could.
Either way, it could’ve been one or all of those things that’d made me feel prepared for everything Casteel and I had to discuss and figure out.
I found the clothing Vonetta had given me in Spessa’s End hanging among several other brightly colored garments that her mother had given Casteel for me to wear. The only visible white I saw in the entire wardrobe
were two slips. A smile tugged at my lips, and I didn’t stop it—didn’t even have to think about concealing it like I had when I’d been the Maiden.
Casteel.
This was all him. He’d made sure there was little white to be found in my options.
Gods, I loved that man.
I started to reach for a tunic with frilly sleeves, but a stunning, cobalt blue, buttery-soft muslin drew my attention. The gown was simple, reminding me of what the Ladies in Solis called a day dress but was far better suited for the warmer climate of Saion’s Cove. The bodice was layered and cinched, erasing the need for a slip. The near-sheer gown was gathered at the waist and the hips by a sky-blue chain girdle, and the material bunched at the shoulders. It was sleeveless.
My gaze shifted back to the tunics and the other dresses that featured wide, elbow-length sleeves that offered a bit of coverage. I hesitated. Normally, I preferred to wear breeches or the lighter leggings and something that hid the scars on my arms, but the color was beautiful. I’d never worn anything like it. I’d never been allowed.
And I didn’t need to hide my scars.
I grabbed an undergarment and pulled the gown off the hanger. I changed into the dress, relieved that it fit well enough. I found a brush and worked out the tangles in my hair. There wasn’t much I could do with it outside of braiding it, so I left it down and then found a pair of sandals in the wardrobe that tied at the ankles. I hitched up the folds of the skirt, sheathing the dagger to my thigh.
Casteel was waiting for me in the sitting room, standing before one of the open lattice doors with his arms loosely folded across his chest. A warm breeze flowed into the room and was spun about by the dual ceiling fans. He started to turn as I walked under the archway. “There is some fruit. And, of course, your favorite, cheese…” He trailed off, his lips parting until the tips of his fangs became visible.
“What?” I stopped, glancing down at myself while smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from the skirt. “Do I look foolish? The bodice is a bit tight.” I fiddled with the cowl neckline. “Or is it outdated? I figure this must be one of Vonetta’s older gowns since she’s taller than I am, but the length is almost a perfect fit for—”
“Unworthy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I am unworthy of you,” he stated roughly. “You are a dream.” My fingers fell away from the neckline as I looked over at him.
Casteel’s arms had fallen to his sides as his gaze swept over me. His chest rose sharply. “Your hair. That gown.” His eyes heated. “You are so beautiful, Poppy.”
“Thank you.” I felt my throat warm as my heart swelled. “And you are
worthy.”
He smiled as he cleared his throat. “Please tell me you’re wearing your dagger.”
Fighting a grin, I lifted the right side of the skirt to my thigh. Casteel groaned. “Gods, you’re perfect.”
“And you are demented,” I said. “Worthy, but demented.” “I’ll take that.”
I laughed. “Did I hear you mention cheese?”
“You did.” He extended an arm to the table. “Help yourself.”
I did exactly that, seating myself at the table and immediately reaching for chunks of yumminess.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked, joining me. “There’s water, wine, and whiskey—the three Ws of life.”
I arched a brow. “Wine.”
He smirked as he poured the faint pink liquid and then fixed himself a glass of whiskey. I tentatively tasted the wine, pleased to find that it tasted like strawberries. “What do you think about the whole Iliseeum thing?” I asked since we hadn’t really talked about that.
“Honestly?” He let out a low laugh. “I really don’t know. I grew up believing that Iliseeum existed in a realm beside ours but not part of ours. Just like the Vale and the Abyss. And to think my parents always knew? Alastir? Jasper?” Casteel shook his head. “But then you really didn’t know Iliseeum was real at all. It had to be more of a shock to you.”
“It was,” I admitted, squinting. “But there is still so much I don’t know. I’m kind of in a constant state of surprise, but it’s amazing to think that at one time, when the gods were awake, they were right there. I wonder how often they interacted with Atlantians and mortals.”
“Not often from what I’ve been taught. But that too may not be exactly true.” He ate a piece of cheese. “The crazy thing, Poppy? Is that Malik, Kieran, and I must have gotten close to Iliseeum at some point. We traveled
those tunnels heading east. We always ended up stopping, though, at some point.”
“Was there ever a reason for you to stop?”
His brows lifted. “At the time, no, but looking back now? Yes. We always started to feel weird, like we needed to go back home. It was something that none of us could explain. We chalked it up to us being afraid of getting caught for being gone too long. But now I think we were being warned away by the magic that guards Iliseeum. It made sure we never got too close.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing. Who knows what would’ve happened if you all had made it to Iliseeum?”
He grinned. “Well, if our presence woke the gods, I’m sure we would’ve won them over with our stunning personalities.”
I laughed. “I was thinking last night that your interest in the tunnels almost feels like divine intervention.”
“It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. A few moments passed, and I peeked over at him. He was quiet as he picked through the fruit, handing me a plump grape and then a dewy slice of melon. “I know we have to talk. You don’t have to delay it any longer.”
“We do.” Leaning back in his chair, he dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he continued rooting through the fruit. “Something I didn’t go into a lot of detail on this morning was something my father shared with me last night. Every member of the Guards of the Crown, from here to Evaemon, are being checked for possible involvement or knowledge of what the others were doing.”
“Have others been discovered?” I asked.
“None believed to have been directly involved so far,” he said as I took the strawberry he offered, and he picked up a piece of roasted meat for himself. “But there have been a few who suspected that something was going on with those working with Alastir. And some expressed concern about your presence.”
“Well that isn’t that surprising, is it?”
“Not really, but it leaves me wondering exactly how much they truly knew of what the others planned.” His fingers folded around his glass. “My father even believes that the ones involved with the attack may have spoken
openly with those who weren’t, basically infecting others with their nonsense.”
Alastir’s and the other’s beliefs and words truly were like an infection, but was it one that could be cured? As we ate, I thought of those who had first attacked me. “The people who were at the Chambers?” I said, and Casteel stilled for a moment before picking up a napkin and wiping his fingers clean. “Once they realized what I was, one of them asked the gods to forgive them.”
A cruel, tight smile formed over the rim of his glass as he took a drink. “They won’t.”
“I…I hope they do.”
His brows lifted. “That is too kind of you, Poppy.” “They didn’t kill me—”
“They wanted to.”
“Thanks for the unnecessary reminder.”
“It sounds like a very necessary reminder,” he replied flatly.
I resisted the urge to throw the piece of cheese I held. “Just because I hope they’re not wasting away in the Abyss for all eternity doesn’t mean I’m okay with what they tried to do to me.”
“Well, I do.”
I ignored that. “They were obviously very misinformed.” “So?”
“What I’m trying to say is they weren’t like Alastir or Jansen or those who wore the Descenter masks. Their minds were made up. Nothing was going to change that.” I tossed the piece of cheese onto the platter. “But the ones at the Chambers? The others who may have known something was going on, or have concerns? Whatever opinions they’ve formed can be changed. It’s not a…fatal infection. They’re not the mindless Gyrms or the Craven.””
“Sounds pretty fatal to me,” he commented.
I took a shallow breath. “If the people in the Chambers had changed their minds before it was too late and they had survived, I wouldn’t want to see them killed now.”
Casteel opened his mouth as he lowered his glass to the cream-hued linen covering the table.
“I know what you’re going to say. You would see them killed. I would see them given a second chance if they were misled. And after,” I stressed,
“they were punished appropriately. It’s obvious they were taught or… indoctrinated into this way of thinking. And those who may have known what the others were involved in? The ones who have concerns now? That can be changed.”
He eyed me as he dragged his fingers over the rim of his glass. “You really believe that?”
“Yes. I do. People can’t be killed simply because they have concerns. That is something the Ascended would do,” I told him. “And if we believe that people aren’t able to change the way they think and what they believe or how they behave, then what is the point of giving the Ascended a chance to change their ways? What would be the point of hoping for change in anything?”
“Touché,” he murmured, tipping his glass to me.
“You don’t believe that people are capable of change?” I asked.
“I do,” he admitted. “I just don’t care if they are if they’re the people who’ve harmed you.”
“Oh.” I picked up another small cube of cheese. That wasn’t exactly surprising to hear. I moved onto something we really hadn’t discussed, not even when it was brought up with Jasper. “Well, you need to start caring. I don’t want people killed because they don’t trust me or like me. I don’t want to be a part of that.”
“You’re asking me to care about those who potentially had knowledge of those who have not only betrayed me but also betrayed you,” he countered quietly. “I believe the technical term would be that they committed treason against me and you.”
“Yes, but having beliefs or concerns that have not been acted upon does not immediately equal treason. If there is evidence that they were aware and did nothing, they should, at the very least, have a trial. Or is Atlantia no different than Solis when it comes to due process?”
“Atlantia believes in due process, but there are exceptions. Namely— you guessed it—treason.”
“Still, if people have been misled, they should be given the chance to redeem themselves, Cas.”
His eyes flared an intense shade of amber. “You’re not playing fair, Princess, knowing how much I love hearing you call me that.”
The corners of my lips curved up just the faintest bit.
He tsked softly. “Already wrapping me around your finger.”
I fought the smile. “I’ll only wrap you around my finger if you agree with me.”
Casteel laughed at that. “I agree,” he stated. “But…my condition is that I agree to hear them speak—to state their case. They’re going to have to be really convincing if they have any hope of surviving.”
My shout of victory died a little before it reached my lips. “I don’t like your condition.”
“Too bad.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sorry,” he demurred, not even sounding remotely apologetic. “What I meant to say is that we’re compromising between our two wants. I’m meeting you halfway here. I am giving them a chance.”
I wasn’t sure what chance he was giving, but this was a…compromise. It was also a definite improvement. “Okay. Then I will meet you in the middle.”
“You should since you’re practically getting what you wanted,” he remarked with a grin.
I kind of was, but I wasn’t confident that many would be able to convince him.
Casteel was quiet for a long moment. “And I am serious about giving people a second chance. To allow them to prove that they will not be a concern to us. But if they act upon their feelings, or I suspect they will, I cannot promise I won’t intercede in a non-violent manner.”
“As long as your suspicion is rooted in evidence and not emotion, I can agree with that.”
His lips twisted into a half-smile. “Look at us, agreeing on who to kill and who not to.”
I shook my head. “Which is a conversation I truly never expected to take part in.”
“But you’re so good at it,” Casteel murmured.
I snorted as I toyed with the stem of my glass. “Well, hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
“I hope the same.”
“What about Alastir’s or Jansen’s family?”
“Jansen didn’t have any family still alive, and Alastir’s living members have been contacted or are in the process of being notified of his
involvement,” he said. “I don’t believe we will have any problems with them, especially when they learn what happened to Beckett.”
A sharp slice in my chest accompanied the mention of the young wolven’s name. Then I thought of Alastir’s great-niece. “What about Gianna? Since he hoped you’d marry her, do you think she could also be involved in this?”
“To be honest, I can’t answer that for sure. I haven’t seen Gianna in years. When I knew her, she was strong-willed and kind of did her own thing. But she would be a virtual stranger to me now,” he explained. “She isn’t here, by the way.”
“Hmm?” I murmured, attempting to appear disinterested in that little piece of knowledge.
Casteel smiled at me, and the dimple winked into existence. Apparently, I hadn’t been that convincing. “I asked Kirha when I saw her this morning. Gianna’s in Evaemon.”
I was a little relieved, but also strangely disappointed. I wanted to see her. I didn’t even know why.
“There’s something else we need to talk about before we inevitably meet with my parents.” Casteel finished off his glass, and having a feeling of where this was going, I tensed. “We need to discuss your claim to the throne.”
It felt like the floor rolled under my chair as I swallowed. A ball of uncertainty rested heavily in my stomach.
Casteel set his empty glass down and leaned back in his chair as he studied me. “You have the blood of the gods in you, Poppy. How much and what that truly means is unknown, but what is clear is that the kingdom is yours. Alastir knew it. My mother recognized it. And despite what my father said about her reacting with emotion, he realizes what it means. The bonds with the wolven breaking and shifting to you is further confirmation. The Atlantians you saw on the street when we entered Saion’s Cove? Many who saw what the wolven did were confused, but word of what you are has already begun to spread. It will reach the capital before too long, especially if the Elders have been contacted.”
“Do you…do you know what has been said about the trees of Aios?
I’m sure it was noticed.”
“It was. From what my father said, the people see it as a sign of great change.”
“Not something bad?”
“No. Most do not see it as such.” His eyes never left mine. “But some aren’t as positive. As I’m sure you already realize, some Atlantians will be resistant to what this signals, only because they do not know you,” he quickly added. “Only because they fear change and differences. They will see you as an outsider.”
“And the Maiden,” I pointed out.
The line of his jaw hardened. “If so, that is a misconception I will quickly rectify.”
I lifted my chin. “As will I.”
Casteel’s smile brimmed with approval. “We will both rectify that quickly,” he amended. “But most will see you for who you are. Which is the next Queen of Atlantia.”
The breath I took went nowhere.
His steady gaze met and held mine. “Just like I see you for who you are. My Queen.”
Shock flooded my senses. That was only the second time he’d called me that, and I realized then that since his mother had taken off her crown, he’d only called me Princess a handful of times. “But you don’t want to be King,” I exclaimed.
“This isn’t about what I want.”
“How can it not be? If I’m the Queen, you are the King—something you don’t want to be,” I reminded him.
“It was something I never believed I would need to be,” he said, and so quietly, every part of my being focused on him. “It was something I needed to believe because it always felt like if I accepted my future, I was also accepting Malik’s fate. That he was lost to us.” He drew his fingers over the curve of his jaw as his gaze shifted to his empty glass. “But at some point, I began to realize the truth. I just didn’t want to accept it.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You…you don’t believe he still lives?”
“No, I believe he does. I still believe we will free him,” he stated, his brows lowering. “But I know—gods, I’ve known for longer than I care to admit to myself, that he won’t be in the…right frame of mind to take the throne. The gods know I wasn’t exactly all there when I was freed.”
An ache pierced me once more. Kieran had already accepted that, too, and a part of me was relieved to know that Casteel understood the reality of
what he’d face upon freeing his brother. It would still hurt, but not nearly as fiercely. “But you found yourself.”
“Unfortunately, Atlantia doesn’t have the luxury of waiting for him to do the same. My parents have already sat on the throne for too long,” he told me. A King and Queen could only rule for four hundred years. And as he said, his parents were far past that. “There has been pushback, Poppy. It’s a combination of fear of what the future holds if we can’t sustain our population, and the general unease that comes with any two people ruling for too long.”
“You told me there had been no challenges to the throne.”
“And you also know I didn’t want to tell you the truth because I didn’t want to freak you out,” he reminded me. “And you appear to be seconds away from—”
“Throwing a plate of cheese at you? Yes, I am seconds away from doing just that.”
“Don’t do that.” Amusement crept into his expression, irritating me further. “You’ll be upset when you don’t have any more cheese to eat.”
“It will be your fault,” I snapped, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. “Stop smiling. You should’ve told me. Just like you should’ve told me about the damage that was done to the crops and the vandalism.”
“I only learned of the worst of it when I spoke with my father last night.” His amusement faded. “I wanted to hear it from him before I shared.” He tilted his head. “There haven’t been any official challenges, Poppy, but pushback will eventually become that, with or without your arrival.”
“My arrival has nothing—”
“Do not continue denying what you are. You’re smarter and stronger than that,” he interrupted, and I snapped my mouth shut. “You do not have the luxury of doing so. Neither do I, and neither does the kingdom. Your arrival changes everything.”
I sat back, weighed down by the truth of his words. After I left the shower, I’d told myself that I was ready to discuss all of this—to face it all. Right now, I was proving that to be a lie. I was also proving childish. My unexpected heritage, what Casteel had done to save me, and its implications, wouldn’t go away simply because I had a hard time acknowledging them. I had to face this.
A kernel of panic took root in my chest where that strange energy hummed quietly. I stared at the fruit and cheese. “When we free your brother, he won’t need the extra pressure of being expected to take the throne. It wouldn’t be right to thrust that upon him.”
“No,” Casteel agreed solemnly. “It would not.”
But what if Malik did want what he’d grown up believing was his birthright once he did find himself? I wasn’t sure the question even mattered at the moment. The bridge hadn’t even been built to cross yet. I swallowed the heavy feeling in my throat. It made sense why Casteel had refused the throne. I could see what that signified to him. “So you want to be King now?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “This would have happened eventually, even if you weren’t a descendant of the gods. Malik wouldn’t be ready to lead, and we would have had to make a choice. At the end of the day, I want what is best for Atlantia,” he said, and I remembered then how Kieran had described him as a young boy. How many would’ve mistaken him for the heir and not his brother. I heard it then, the seriousness in his tone. I’d heard it moments earlier when he’d called me out on my denials. “But I also want what is best for you.”
My gaze lifted to him.
“We know what we both need to do. I need to free my brother. You need to see Ian. The Queen and King of Solis must be stopped,” he told me. “But after that? If you want to claim the Crown, I will support you. I will be right beside you. Together, we will learn to rule Atlantia,” he said, and my stomach dipped. “If not, just tell me what you want to do, where you want to go. I will be right beside you.”
“Where I want to go?” I asked, confused.
“If you decide you do not want to take the throne, we cannot stay here.”
