I tensed, immediately wanting to put out that based on what Casteel planned to do, he couldn’t be taken with me. But recalling that Casteel had said that he was working on making sure my life wasn’t in jeopardy with this man, I managed to keep that to myself. “I think he’s far more taken with himself.”

A loud laugh burst from the elemental. “I think I can now be counted as one of those taken with you.”

My cheeks flushed, burning even deeper when Kieran said, “I would advise against saying that in front of Casteel.”

“I like my head attached to my body, and my heart in my chest,” the elemental responded. “I have no plans to repeat that.”

“He did say you were…quite outspoken.”

I crossed my arms. “More like warned you?”

“Something like that, but surprising nonetheless.” Alastir’s pale eyes danced with amusement. “We didn’t get a chance to be properly introduced yesterday. I’m Alastir Davenwell and the one behind me is Emil Da’Lahr.”

Emil grinned as he nodded in my direction. “I will forever think of Kieran as a giant oaf now, thanks to you.”

“That’s great,” muttered the wolven standing beside me.

Sparing a quick glance at Kieran’s stoic expression, I said, “I’m Penellaphe...Penellaphe Balfour.”

Alastir’s gaze sharpened on me as his brows narrowed. “Balfour?”

I nodded.

“That’s an old name, one that goes back several hundred years in Solis,” Alastir said.

How old was this wolven? “My father’s family was involved in shipping. They were merchants.”

“Casteel has told me that you are of Atlantian descent,” Alastir said after a moment. “Which would explain why the Ascended have deemed you the Maiden and kept you close to them.” His head tilted. He must’ve seen something in my expression, because he continued. “You’ve learned what they had planned for you.”

A statement, but I nodded anyway.

“I am sorry for that,” he offered softly, bowing his head slightly. “I cannot imagine what it must feel like to learn that those who cared for you did so for such abhorrent reasons.”

It felt like the world was nothing but a violent lie.

“Your mother was close to the vampry Queen, and your father’s family a friend to the King? Correct?”

Surprise flickered through me. “Did Casteel tell you that?”

A faint smile appeared. “I knew some of your background before I met you, Penellaphe. Word of a Maiden, one Chosen by the gods, reached Atlantia long ago.”

That didn’t make me feel entirely comfortable. “I guess that came as a shock to your people since your gods are asleep, therefore unable to choose anyone.”

Emil chuckled. “That it did. We wondered if they had woken and forgotten about us.”

“I think what is more of a shock is learning that you’re of Atlantian descent,” Alastir said, brows knitted. “Especially since your mother and father were so connected to the Blood Crown.”

“The Blood Crown?”

“The Queen and King of Solis. The Royals,” explained Kieran. “They’re referred to as the Blood Crown.”

I was sure there was disturbing accuracy behind that title.

“It leaves me with the question of how you’re even here,” said Alastir.

Kieran unfolded his arms. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t tell me that neither you nor the Prince has wondered how the parent of someone of Atlantian descent survived long so close to the Blood Crown.” Alastir looked at me. “It’s not that they can sense us, but being that close, I imagine it would’ve been discovered.”

“And they would’ve used one of them as what? A blood bag?” I finished.

Emil’s brows rose. “That’s one way of putting it, but yes.”

“I don’t know which one was Atlantian,” I admitted. “Kieran seems to think that I was found in a field.”

Emil sent a questioning look at the wolven.

Kieran sighed. “I did not say that. I merely suggested that one or even possibly both weren’t her blooded parents.”

“That’s possible.” A thoughtful expression entered Alastir’s features. “I never heard what became of your parents. Are they still in the capital of Solis? If so, then I imagine the answer lies with them.”

“My parents are no longer alive.” Unsure if he knew of Ian, I didn’t mention him. “They were killed in a Craven attack outside the city.”

Alastir paled as he stared at me. “Is that…?” He trailed off, lines bracketing his mouth.

I had a feeling I knew what he had been about to ask. “It was how I was scarred,” I told him, holding his stare.

The lines at his mouth deepened. “You wear your scars proudly, Penellaphe.”

“As do you,” I murmured.

“I am sorry to learn of your parents,” Alastir said. “I wish there was more I could say.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“We need to get going.” Kieran touched my back lightly. “Excuse us.”

Alastir nodded as both he and Emil stepped aside. “It was nice to speak with you, Penellaphe.”

“You, too,” I said, sending both men a small smile.

Kieran ushered me through the otherwise empty common area. I looked over my shoulder to see both males still standing there, watching us. I turned back to the hall. My steps slowed as I said in a low voice, “They…seemed nice. Are they?”

“They are both good men, loyal to Atlantia and the Da’Neer dynasty.”

Dynasty. Is that what Casteel’s family was? A dynasty?

“Come.” He touched my back again. “We must eat. You must eat.”

I forced my steps to keep pace with Kieran’s as I momentarily forgot about Alastir. I couldn’t see beyond the bend, but tiny knots tangled up my stomach. I didn’t want to see the walls with the hanging dead again. “Why is everyone so concerned about me eating?”

“We want to take you to Atlantia. Not starve you.”

Atlantia. My already churning stomach dipped. I knew so little about what rose from the blood and ash of war. “Do they really have running hot water there, available in…faucets?”

Kieran blinked once and then twice. “Yes. They do. It is probably the thing I miss the most when I am here.”

“That sounds lovely,” I murmured. “The hot water part. Not the missing it part.”

“I figured that was what you meant.”

As I neared the bend, I steeled myself for the grotesque sight of the bodies spiked to the walls. Was Jericho still alive? Had the others begun to rot? It was cool enough in here that the others would probably look as they had before, only grayer and waxier. My empty stomach churned as I stepped into the hall and lifted my gaze.

The walls were bare.

No bodies. No evidence of blood, nothing streaming down the walls and finding the tiny cracks in the stone to form little rivers. None on the floor, either.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. “They’re gone.”

“Cas had them removed last night after dinner,” Kieran advised.

Surprise shuttled through me. “And Jericho?”

“He is no more. Casteel took care of him while you were running off to start a new life, one which would’ve ended in certain dismemberment and death at the hands of the Craven.”

Ignoring that jab, I didn’t know if I should feel as relieved as I did. “Did…did Casteel believe his warning was heard?”

“I believe he was more concerned about what you said than if his warning was left up long enough to be heeded.” Kieran crossed through the open doors. “I, on the other hand, would’ve left Jericho up there for at least another day or so.”

My mouth dropped open. I wasn’t sure what shocked me more. That Casteel had acted upon what I’d said, or that Kieran would’ve left the traitorous wolven lingering in a painful state of almost death. “There should always be dignity in death,” I said once I found my voice. “No matter what.”

Kieran didn’t answer as he led me to an empty table. The chairs from the night before had been replaced by a long bench. I sat as I looked around, spotting only a few people toward the back of the banquet hall, near the hearth and several doors. Where was everyone? With Casteel and Elijah?

I turned as Kieran sat beside me. “I don’t think Casteel acted upon my words, but if he did, I’m grateful to hear that.”

He rested an elbow on the table. “I don’t think you realize how much sway you have over him.”

I started to deny such a statement, but an older woman with a white smock covering the front of her soft yellow gown hurried to the table, carrying two plates. The scent of food caused my stomach to make itself known once more. She placed one in front of us, both full of fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted meat, and glistening rolls on the side. As inconspicuously as possible, I noted the color of her eyes. They were brown with no hint of gold.

“Thank you,” I said.

There was a grunt of acknowledgment, but when Kieran offered the same thanks, he was given a warm smile and a sweet, “thank you.” My lips pursed, but I didn’t let it bother me as I snatched up the fork and started shoveling the potatoes into my mouth. Though it was a unique experience for me to even be able to look anyone in the face, or for them to see me, and for us to exchange even simple pleasantries. The mouthful of potatoes turned to sawdust on my tongue, so I guessed her response did bother me. A little.

Looking over at Kieran, I saw that he had been given a fork and a knife. My eyes narrowed. It was slightly thinner, but far sharper than my sad blade.

Finishing off the potatoes, I got back to my line of questioning. “She was mortal, wasn’t she? The woman who brought the food to us?”

Cutting up his roasted meat into neat pieces that all appeared to be the same size, he nodded. “She is.”