A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire: Chapter 27
Pulling one of Casteel’s clean tunics over my head, I looked down at myself and sighed. Between the too loose breeches and the oversized shirt, which nearly reached my knees, I looked a bit ridiculous. But the plain black shirt was far better than the too-heavy sweater.
We hadn’t dozed that long, maybe a little over an hour before I woke to find him propped up on his elbow, watching me. When I asked what he was doing, he simply responded with, “Enjoying the scenery.”
I’d blushed a thousand shades of red, and he’d smiled before lowering his head and brushing his lips over my forehead. Then he’d said that he had an idea, and that was how I ended up in the baggy breeches and one of his shirts.
Glancing at the oval mirror before leaving the bathing chamber, I caught sight of the side of my neck. The patch of skin around the two red puncture wounds was faintly pink. I touched the skin, finding the area tender but not painful. When I left the bed, I’d noted that the shadows under Casteel’s eyes were gone, as was the sharpness to his features. It was amazing how quickly my blood had affected him.
It was also amazing how his bite had affected me.
The moment his mouth had closed over my skin and the initial pain of his bite vanished, it was like tumbling into a world where the only thing that mattered was him and the feel of him drawing a piece of me deep inside him. What Kieran had shared with me before about heartmates hadn’t mattered. The realization that Casteel had possibly kept the truth of Spessa’s End from me because he either feared I would share what I knew if captured or he hadn’t trusted me with the information until I was far enough outside the Ascended’s reach was no longer a concern. Neither was the shock of learning about the Joining. There had been no shame over being trapped between Kieran and Casteel as Kieran had been all but pinned to the wall by Casteel’s need. I’d become a flame, and none of that had mattered.
But now?
Now, there was embarrassment when I thought of Kieran—the wolven who must have known about the tradition. Something Casteel had never told me about because it hadn’t been relevant for him to do so. The marriage was temporary. An act that I wasn’t sure was as innocent as Casteel made it out to be—at least not most of the time. But I didn’t feel shame for what Kieran had witnessed. I didn’t know if I was supposed to, but it didn’t feel like something to be ashamed of. My reaction to Casteel was natural, and even if what came afterward when Casteel expressed his gratitude was foolishly reckless when it came to my heart, it had also felt right.
Flushing at Casteel’s apparent lack of control, I scooped my hair out from the tunic’s collar, leaving it down. He’d said that had never happened before, and I couldn’t fathom why he’d lie about that. The fact that it’d happened with me was inconceivable, but there was an odd sense of power there, too, one as old as time itself. The kind of power that I imagined Miss Willa and the women at the Red Pearl, the ones who worked there and were patrons of the establishment, had mastered.
Hearing Casteel’s footsteps in the bedchamber, I tore my gaze from the mirror and slid open the pocket door.
Casteel had managed to change his clothing. Somewhat. He’d donned his breeches and boots, but the white tunic still dangled from his fingertips. Something about the hard lines of his chest and stomach were utterly fascinating, but my earlier boldness had left me.
“So, about my idea,” he said, lifting the shirt over his head.
“I’m half afraid to ask.” I moved to the terrace doors. He’d opened one after we woke. Warm sunlight spilled across the tile floor.
His laugh was muffled as the shirt slipped over his head. “I’m wounded.”
With his back to me, I grinned. “I’m sure you are.”
“Completely.” Facing me, he left the shirt untucked. “Since it’s early in the day, I thought we could take a little field trip.”
Excitement bubbled to life as I shoved up one long sleeve. “To where?”
“I thought you might like to see the real Spessa’s End.”
I opened my mouth to ask if he truly trusted me with what I saw, but I managed to stop myself.
His gaze flickered over me. “What?”
“I would like that,” I said instead.
Casteel’s head cocked as he studied me for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe my answer. “I’m glad to hear that.” He came forward, stopping in front of me. “But there is a caveat.”
“What is that?” I asked as he lifted my arm.
He folded over the edges of the sleeves, forming a cuff. “We continue to pretend.”
My heart skipped a beat. “That you’re just Hawke?”
“And you’re just Poppy.” He rolled up the sleeve, halting just below my elbow. “Want the sleeves higher?”
Knowing that he was asking because of the pale scars on my inner elbows, I nodded.
There was a glimmer of approval in his eyes as he tucked the sleeve so it was above my elbow. “We don’t spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about the past.”
“Or worrying about the future?” I said.
He nodded as he motioned for me to lift my other arm. “We will just be Hawke and Poppy. That’s all.”
I watched him roll up the other sleeve. “No one else will treat you as Hawke. They won’t see me as Poppy.”
His gaze lifted to mine. “No one else matters. Just you and me.”
Another skip of another beat. There was no denying that it would be incredibly ill-advised of me to pretend anymore. It blurred everything, and pretending…well, it didn’t feel like that to me. But there was also no denying that I wanted exactly what he offered.
And since when did something being foolish ever stop me?
Besides, I wanted to see Spessa’s End.
Telling myself that was the main reason, I nodded. “I agree to your conditions.”
The dimple appeared in his right cheek. “So, it’s a deal?”
“Yes.”
“Then we must seal the deal,” he told me. “And do you know how Atlantians seal a deal? They do so with a kiss.”
“Really?” I asked doubtfully. “That sounds incredibly problematic.”
“Perhaps.”
“And it also sounds like a lie.”
Casteel nodded. “It is.”
There was no silencing the laugh. It burst from me. And Casteel—he moved so unbelievably fast. His head dipped, and his mouth was on mine before the laugh even faded. The shock of his lips against mine sent a jolt through me. The kiss was…it was as intoxicating as his bite, as everything about him was. And when his fingers sifted through my hair, guiding my head back, there were no protests to be found. The kiss deepened, and the touch of his fangs, his tongue on mine, sent a hot, tight shudder through me.
“Sorry,” he whispered against my lips. “I know I should’ve asked first, but your laugh… It undoes me, Poppy.” He slid his hands over my cheeks, his fingers not hesitating when they reached the scars. “You’re more than welcome to punch me for it.”
I didn’t want to punch him. I wanted him to kiss me again. A soft breath left me. “I guess the deal is sealed now, isn’t it?”
He gave an audible swallow. “That it is.” Drawing back, he took my hand. “Come. If we spend another moment here, I don’t think we’ll make it from this room.”
My eyes widened. There was no mistaking the seriousness of his words, and another shiver danced across my skin.
Casteel led me out through the terrace and into the courtyard, his hand still firmly around mine. I looked off toward the sun-drenched Rise and squinted. “Are there people on the Rise.”
“There are, and they were also there last night. You just couldn’t see them.”
“Mortal eyesight sucks,” I muttered, and he smirked. “But I thought the Ascended weren’t a threat this far east.”
“They haven’t been, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Our boots trod softly over the patchy grass and sand. “Alastir said that rebuilding Spessa’s End was your idea.”
“For the most part,” he said, and that was all he said as we neared the stables. I felt the sting of disappointment, but then I reminded myself that today wasn’t about the future. “You up for riding? It’s not that far of a distance to walk, but I’m feeling lazy.”
“I’m fine with either.”
“Perfect. Because I have another idea,” he said. A moment later, an older man strode out of the open door of the tack room. “How are you doing, Coulton?”
The man came forward, dragging a handkerchief over his bald head. The closer he got, I realized he was a wolven. His eyes were the blue of a winter morning. “Good.” He bowed his head in greeting. “And you?”
“Never been better.”
A grin appeared as Coulton’s gaze slid to me. The smile halted as he suddenly took a step back. He stared at me, and I tensed, my hands tightening on reflex—squeezing Casteel’s. I immediately forced my grip to relax. Either it was the scars, or the wolven realized who I was—who I used to be. The Maiden. I reminded myself that I couldn’t necessarily blame him for his reaction.
“Is everything okay, Coulton?” Casteel asked, tone flat.
The wolven blinked and then his smile reappeared. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry. It’s just I had the weirdest sensation.” He looked at his Prince, the olive tone skin deepening to a ruddy color. “Like a staticky, charged feeling.” He shoved the handkerchief into the front pocket of his sleeveless shirt. “Is this her? Your fiancée?”
Wanting to believe that the wolven spoke the truth, I knew better than to believe something simply because I wanted it to be true. I opened my senses and reached out to him. The invisible connection formed, and I expected the bitter taste, the choking heaviness of distrust and dislike. That’s not what I felt. The cool splash against the back of my throat was surprise, followed by the tart sensation of confusion. It felt like he was speaking the truth.
“This is Penellaphe,” Casteel said. “My fiancée.”
Hearing the coolness in Casteel’s tone, I stepped forward and extended my hand as I smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Coulton.”
A smile appeared, one that stretched across the wolven’s entire face. “It’s an honor to meet you.” The wolven took my hand, and his eyes widened. Through the connection, I felt his surprise once more. “There it is again. That feeling of static.” He laughed, still holding my hand as he shook his head. “Perhaps it is you, Penellaphe.”
Having felt nothing, I said, “I’m not sure about that.”
“I don’t know. You feel as if you’re…full of energy. Heard you descended from Atlantia.” He squeezed my hand and then let go as he looked at Casteel. “I imagine it’s from a powerful line.”
Casteel tilted his head as my brow puckered. “I believe she is.”
“Are you here for Setti?” Coulton asked. “If so, he’s out in the pasture.”
“No. He needs his rest. I just need two horses.”
“Two horses?” I questioned.
“That’s my other idea.” Casteel’s features relaxed into a grin. “To teach you how to ride by yourself.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Ah. I’ve got the perfect horses for that.” Coulton pivoted, walking toward the stalls along the right side of the stables. “There are two older mares in here. Great temperament. Not likely to take off.”
“You think this is a good idea?” I asked.
“Now seems like a better time than most,” he told me. “And you’re going to do just fine after being on Setti.”
I wasn’t so sure about that as Coulton led out a stocky, white and brown horse along with a fawn-colored one. Neither were as large as Setti but they were still big enough to trample me to death.
“Which one do you think is the best fit?” Casteel asked.
“Molly here is a good girl.” Coulton patted the side of the spotted one. “She’ll be gentle.”
Once they were saddled, Casteel nudged me toward Molly. “You’ll do just fine,” he told me, voice low as Coulton held onto both horses’ leads. “I’ll keep her reins until you’re ready.”
Nervous and a little scared, I pushed past that. I’d always wanted to learn how to ride, and it was a necessary skill that I lacked. Now was as good a time as ever.
I stroked Molly’s muzzle as I walked over to her side, swallowing. Casteel followed, and I knew he was going to help me up. “If I fall, try to catch me.”
“I can do that.”
“Please don’t kill me,” I murmured as I reached up, gripping the saddle. “Being killed by a horse named Molly would be embarrassing.”
Both of them chuckled, but as I placed my foot in the stirrup, Casteel said to the wolven, “You have the reins?”
“Molly isn’t going anywhere.”
I hauled myself up, remembering at the very last second to swing my leg over. A moment later, I was seated, and I’d done it by myself. I looked down at Casteel.
He smiled, and I felt a catch in my chest. Both of his dimples appeared. “Now, I’ll have no excuse to touch you inappropriately in an appropriate setting.”
“I’m sure you’ll find another way,” Coulton remarked.
“That is true.” Casteel bit his lower lip. “I am very inventive.”
I rolled my eyes, even though I was practically bursting at the seams with pride. This may not seem like a big deal to many, but it was to me.
Casteel kept his eyes on me as he mounted the other horse, who turned out to be named Teddy. I almost laughed when Casteel frowned at the name.
“Ready?” he asked once he held both reins.
Holding on to the horn of the saddle, I nodded. “I hope Setti doesn’t get jealous.”
“He will if he sees you.”
Saying goodbye to Coulton, Casteel led us out of the stables. The first couple of steps sent my heart pounding because it felt like I would fall at any second. But Casteel talked me through it, reminding me that it was no different than when he was behind me.
Casteel went through the basics of controlling a horse as he led us around the side of the fortress and along the crumbling wall.
“To get a horse to stop, you close your fingers around the reins, squeeze, and pull back slightly. The horse will feel the tug and know to stop,” he said, showing the technique. “You can also use your legs,” he explained, showing what he meant. When I nodded, he continued. “To get a horse to walk, you squeeze with your legs again, but you do it here.” He pointed at the side of the horse. “Or you push with your seat—leaning forward. Anytime you want the horse to listen to the command, you lift the reins. That’s a signal to them that a command is coming. Want to try it?”
I nodded. Keeping hold of the saddle, I waited for Casteel to lift the reins, putting light tension on Molly’s halter, and then I pressed my knee against the area Casteel had pointed to. Molly lumbered forward.
Smiling, I turned to Casteel. “I did it.”
He stared at me. “And now I want to kiss you, but I can’t because you’re on your own horse.” The corners of his lips turned down. “This was a bad idea.”
I laughed.
“A really bad idea.”
As we traveled around the side of the fortress, he went through some more basic commands while having me stop and start Molly. I grew more confident with each try, and so focused on the horse, I didn’t even notice that we’d cleared the fortress until I looked up and saw a thicket of trees ahead. We entered them slowly, and Casteel navigated both horses down the earthen path.
“Coulton had a strange reaction to you,” he said as the bushy leaves filtered the sun.
“He did, but I think he was being honest. His reaction wasn’t something negative. I know because I used my gift.”
“I realized that when you stepped forward. Very smart of you to do that.”
“I…being able to read emotions to gauge someone’s intentions isn’t infallible,” I said, starting to grow used to being in the saddle alone. “But most people can’t hide their emotions from themselves.”
“It gives you an upper hand. It’s what gave the empaths the upper hand.”
“You’re not worried that I read your emotions?” I peeked over at him.
“I’d rather you use everything you have in your arsenal than be worried about what you’re picking up from me.”
“I think most people would prefer that I not do it.”
“I’m not most people.”
No, he was not.
“You asked earlier if Spessa’s End was my idea. It was a combination of mine and Kieran’s,” he said after a few moments, surprising me with his willingness now to talk about this place. “We came here often when we were younger, along with my brother.”
I already knew that those trips also included Shea, but I kept that to myself.
“It’s just a day’s ride through the mountains, and half of that from there to Saion’s Cove, a city in Atlantia,” he went on. “We came here a lot—Malik and me. More than our parents ever realized. We’d inspected every inch of this land, finding all its secrets while our parents believed we were in the Cove. They would have had our heads if they’d known how many times we crossed over into Solis.”
“Wasn’t that dangerous, though?”
“That was what made it so alluring.” A brief grin appeared. “But even when Spessa’s End was once populated, the Ascended didn’t travel the road east all that often. Not many knew who we were, and while here, we could just be brothers.”
Instead of Princes of a fallen kingdom.
“Anyway, Kieran and I both realized the potential of this place with the fortress and the Rise being largely intact.” Casteel shifted in his saddle, holding the reins lightly in his grasp. “With this land being so close to Atlantia, it’s important.”
I didn’t think that was the only reason why it was important to him.
“It took a bit to convince my father and mother. They didn’t think it would give us enough to bear the risk, but they eventually relented. Although my father has become increasingly supportive of taking back all the land, my mother has been the voice of caution. She doesn’t want another war, but she knows that we cannot continue as we are. We need this land. We need more, but for now, I hope it will give us enough that if the risk one day presents itself, it will be worth it.”
I considered that, and something occurred to me. “Then Spessa’s End is a part of Atlantia.”
“All of Solis was once Atlantia, but I’ve reclaimed this land. This is Atlantian soil.”
My heart stammered as I looked over at him. “Does that mean we could…we could be married here?”
“Yes.” He held my gaze for a moment and then looked ahead. “But that’s not what this afternoon is about, Poppy.”
“I know,” I said, but my heart still pounded with the knowledge that this was Atlantian soil. That marriage may come sooner rather than later.
A shout from ahead startled me, and my jump caused Molly to lurch forward. Casteel steadied the reins.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “What was that?”
“Training, I imagine.”
“Training?”
He inclined his head toward me. “Even though the risk is low, we watch from the Rise, and we train those who can defend the city if need be.”
Interest more than piqued, I faced forward. We rode to the edges of a field that had been cleared of grass. A large stone pavilion sat on the other side of the open space, butted up to the dense stand of trees. White and golden curtains rippled in the breeze, rolling and lifting gently, revealing a handful of people seated inside.
But it was what I saw standing in the center of the glen that left me speechless.
Women stood on the flattened land, at least a dozen of them, dressed like no woman would dare in Solis. Wearing black pants and sleeveless tunics, the sun glinted off the golden rings encircling their upper arms.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Them?” Casteel inclined his head toward the group. “Remember the women I told you about the night I found you on the battlements of the Rise?”
I did. “Women who could cut a man down without blinking an eye.”
“You failed to mention the other part.” He looked at me, a teasing smoke-filled smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “About being less magnificent—”
“I didn’t forget,” I cut him off. “I chose not to mention it.”
He chuckled, but before he could explain further, a mass of movement snagged my attention. Men dressed the same as the women poured out from the shadows of the surrounding trees, racing across the field. The women were vastly outnumbered. There had to be three to four times more men.
The women turned, all but one, who stood apart from the others, closest to the approaching men. A tall blonde, her hair pulled back in a thick braid. She was watching us, seemingly unaware of the behemoth of a man, larger than even Elijah, racing toward her, a golden sword raised—
She turned at the last second, my lips parting as she caught the man by the throat. Letting out a long, wavering cry that was taken up by the other women, she drove the man down, slamming him into the ground. Dirt exploded on impact, hanging in the air as she gripped his arm, twisting until he dropped his sword. It seemed to fall into her waiting hand, and within a heartbeat, she had it pointed at his throat.
I looked out over the clearing, and only the women stood, each of them weaponless at the start, having disarmed the men. Now, they held swords or spears, pointed at the men’s throats or far more interesting areas.
“They are the kingdom’s elite, each one skilled and deadlier than the one before,” Casteel said, and I could feel his gaze on me. “They are the Guardians of the Atlantian armies.”
Unable to take my eyes off the women, I watched them extend their hands to the men. They helped them to their feet.
“They are the last of their bloodline, born into a long succession of warriors who will defend Atlantia to their last breath.”
“And they’re all women?”
“They are.”
The Guardians and the men took notice of our presence. The tall blonde stepped forward, placing her closed fist over her heart. The other women followed suit while the men bowed from their waists. Casteel acknowledged their gestures by placing his fist over his heart.
I was absolutely awestruck as Casteel nudged our horses around the edge of the field, grateful that he had control of Molly. My eyes were still glued to the women as they handed the weapons back to the men. I just…it was almost like I couldn’t believe what my eyes were telling me. To grow up in a society where the sharpest object a woman was permitted to handle was a knitting needle, I was stunned. And I was fascinated as one of the women showed a man a better way to grip the sword.
“They’re training them, aren’t they?” I asked.
“Yes,” Casteel answered. “The Guardians always train our warriors, here and beyond the Skotos.”
“So, there are more?” I watched a wolven with black and white fur prowl out from the pavilion, approaching the blonde. The wolven nearly reached her chest.
“There are about two hundred of them left,” he said as the Guardian smiled at that wolven. “But one of them is equal to twenty trained warriors.”
I finally dragged my awed gaze from them. “Do they have…unique abilities courtesy of their bloodline?”
“Only the females born within that bloodline. They are like elementals in terms of strength and mortality, and they do need blood.”
“Are any other warrior bloodlines still alive?” I asked as we entered the other side of the woods.
Casteel shook his head. “They are the only ones left.” He paused. “Besides you.”
Besides me.
It was strange to hear that, knowing I was descended from a line of warriors. “I may not be the only one,” I said, and Casteel focused ahead. “I know it’s unlikely that Ian is my full-blooded brother, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there that no one knows about, including the Ascended.”
“That’s true, but I think it would be highly doubtful that any of them have gone undetected by this point.” His gaze followed a sparrow as it flew across the path. “Makes me think of the first Maiden—if she did exist—and how many more were potentially discovered that we will never know about. And it also makes me think about the time I was held by the Ascended. They always used mortals with Atlantian blood to feed me.”
I resisted the urge to reach out to him with my senses, already knowing what I would find.
“Some were young, just past maturity. Some were older, their hair gray and bodies already breaking down with age,” he said after a few moments. “I tried to keep count of how many had been brought into my cage, but I…I wasn’t able to. Even so, between Malik and me, I don’t know how there could be any more out there.”
Ian had been the last to Ascend, and it had only been him. Before that, it had been several years since the last Ascension. Dread surged through me. Ascensions had been carried out annually for several years, but then they’d all but stopped when I was a child. The implications of that brought forth the concern I’d had before. What if Malik was no longer alive?
Kieran and Casteel both believed that Malik lived, but there was no evidence of that. And I wanted to know if Casteel had truly considered that. I bit down on my lip.
“You look like you want to say something,” he observed.
I did, but how could I ask what I wanted? I didn’t think I should, so I said what I also believed I needed to say. “You did what you needed to do to survive. I hope you truly believe that.”
Casteel didn’t answer, and when I looked over at him and saw the vast emptiness in his expression, my heart ached. Because I knew.
I knew he didn’t.
And all I wanted in that moment was to bring warmth back to him. “I still want to stab you.”
His head shot in my direction.
“Just not as frequently,” I amended.
One side of his lips curled up, and then he laughed. The sound was rough and a little hoarse, but it was real. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
I looked forward, smiling. “That is such a weird statement.”
“What can I say? I have a thing for women with violent tendencies.”
“That doesn’t sound any better,” I said, even though I wondered if Shea had been that way. Prone to stabbing him when she was angry? I wasn’t so sure about that, considering what he’d said I deserved when this was all over. A relationship with no stabbing or punching. Or kidnapping.
I shoved those thoughts aside before they could weigh me down. We were pretending, and that meant there was no future, even if we couldn’t escape the past.
Luckily, a distraction arose a few moments later. Riding out of the wooded area, I finally saw what Casteel had built.
My grip loosened on the saddle as I took in a piece of Atlantia hidden away in Solis.
Stygian Bay glistened like the darkest hour of night to our right. Ahead of us was a town the size of New Haven. Yet again, I was struck speechless as we rode along the dirt road. I only half-noticed those who acknowledged our arrival, who either bowed or called out.
One-story homes made of sandstone and clay dotted the gently rolling landscape. There had to be around a hundred of them, and each one was spaced out to accommodate private, curtained terraces, and small gardens. As we drew closer to the homes, I could see that the gardens were full of ripe tomatoes and tall stalks of corn, cabbage, and other vegetables planted in neat rows. The only homes in Solis that had any land beyond a patch barely large enough to grow a tree were the ones in places like Radiant Row.
“My gods,” I whispered as I looked around.
“I’m hoping that’s an exclamation of approval,” Casteel stated as we neared the crest of a small hill.
“It is. These homes… And the gardens? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Food supply is far easier to manage when each household harvests as much as they can,” he said, drawing Molly closer to him when the mare appeared to take note of a vivid, yellow butterfly. “All the gardens were planted by farmers who have experience with crops. Those who agreed to settle in Spessa’s End were required to apprentice with farmers to learn how to keep them healthy and spot disease. With the temperatures rarely dropping below freezing at night, we’re able to grow some of the crops longer than places farther north.”
In Solis, food had to be paid for or grown, but very few had the land to grow anything, which meant that many spent the bulk of their income to acquire food. If there was no money, there simply was nothing to eat.
As soon as we reached the top of the hill, the scent of grilled meat replaced the sweetly scented breeze. It was then that I realized I hadn’t truly seen anything yet. The town center lay in the valley between the homes. There were other buildings—larger than the houses, numerous columned pavilions adorned with bright canopies or curtains, housing various markets. There were businesses—butchers, seamstresses, blacksmiths, and bakers, and in the very center and raised higher than any of the other buildings was the ruins of what had once been a great coliseum. Or so it appeared. Only half of the structure remained.
“Concerts and games were once played there,” Casteel said, having followed my gaze. “I remember sitting in those seats, watching plays.”
Thinking of all the souls that had once filled the massive coliseum twisted my heart. “Will it be repaired?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted as we traveled down the sloping hill. “I never wanted to tear it down. It’s become a monument in a way, a reminder of what once stood here. Perhaps one day we will repair it.”
There were more people in the town center, drifting between the pavilions and stalls. Pretending that he was just Hawke and I was Poppy ended as the people either rushed forward to greet Casteel or lingered back until others passed on.
There were wolven and Atlantians among the Descenters, and out of the blur of faces, I realized that all of them seemed genuinely happy to see Casteel. Most called him by name and not by his title, which was something not tolerated in Solis. All Royals were addressed as Lord or Lady, and to not do so was seen as greatly disrespectful, and worse yet, potentially a sign of being a Descenter.
I watched Casteel as he grinned or laughed at something someone said, asked about a family member or friend, seemingly as fascinated with them as I had been with the Guardians. I smiled when he introduced me to those who approached. My fiancée. My fiancée. My fiancée. I listened as he spoke to many, addressing them by name, and he was attentive and welcoming as we traveled along. If this wasn’t another mask—if this was who he was with his people—he was a Prince that anyone would be honored to rule beside.
Something nameless and unknown inside of me softened and then opened up even as my senses thrummed under my skin, stretching and throbbing in response to the cyclone of conflicting emotions spilling out of the crowd and into the air around me.
I noticed that, more often than not, the people’s reaction to me was far more subdued. Smiles went from warm and genuine to cold and tight. Welcoming glances became ones of curiosity or turned blank. Some gazes lingered on the scars for the briefest of moments while others openly stared. There were quickly averted gazes, and mumbled greetings.
Even as I struggled to keep my senses in check—even though I knew that many of the people of Atlantia didn’t welcome me—I started pretending again.
But this time he was Casteel, and I was Poppy, and he truly was my Prince.