A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(25)

Up ahead, one of the men by the door opened it for us, and I had no idea where we were going as Casteel led me outside. Regardless, I was glad he wasn’t taking me back to the room. I’d definitely lose it then.

The snow was coming down in a light, slow flurry, having eased off a bit from before. We trudged through several inches on the ground as we crossed the yard.

“Why are we going into the woods?” I asked, wondering if I should be concerned, even though I knew I was no good to him dead.

“We aren’t going very far.” Having slowed down so I could walk at his side, he glanced over at me. “Are you cold?”

I shook my head.

“We won’t be out here for very long,” he said.

I lifted a hand as we walked, momentarily distracted by the snow. I watched it fall and melt against my skin. After a moment, I became aware of Casteel’s intense gaze on me. Closing my hand, I lowered it to my side.

“It snowed in Masadonia, didn’t it?” he asked quietly as we reached the edge of the forest. “Were you ever able to enjoy it?”

“It would’ve been unseemly for a Maiden to be romping around in the snow.” I frowned as we stepped under the trees. Snow dusted large areas of the forest floor and drifted in higher piles where there were breaks in the trees. “But a few times when I was able to sneak out at night I saw it, but it wasn’t often. A couple of times with Ian. Once with Tawny.”

Tawny.

My heart hurt as I thought of her, almost wishing I hadn’t. Gods, I missed her. She was the second daughter of a successful merchant, given to the Royal Court at the age of thirteen during the Rite. She had been tasked to be a companion of sorts to me, but she had become far more than that. I often worried that our friendship was nothing more than a task, a duty to her. But I knew better now. She genuinely cared for me.

“Everyone seemed to go outside in the snow,” I continued. “So, going out without being seen wasn’t always feasible.”

“That’s a shame. There are few things more peaceful than being out in the snow.” Casteel’s steps slowed, and then he stopped, letting go of my hand.

Palm still tingly from the contact, I crossed my arms over my chest as he bent. “Does it snow in Atlantia?”

“In the mountains, yes.” He lifted a heavy branch and then swept the fine layer of snow off what appeared to be a wooden door in the ground. “My brother and I would sneak off quite a bit to go into the mountains when we knew it was snowing. Kieran would often come with us, as would…others sometimes.” He tugged on an iron hook, pulling a door up. “I can make a mean snowball.”

I stared at a dimly lit hole. Stone and earthen steps took form out of the shadows. “Ian taught me how to make snowballs, but I haven’t thrown one in years.”

He looked up at me, a slight smile on his lips. “I bet you’re the type who packs the snow so tight that it leaves welts behind when it hits someone.”

My lips twitched as I looked away, thinking the mask of the Prince had cracked a little just there, showing a peek of either Casteel or yet another mask.

“Knew it,” he murmured and then cleared his throat. “I ran into Alastir before I came into the banquet hall. He told me he spoke with you.”

“We did. Briefly.” I glanced at him. “Kieran was there.”

“I know.” He watched me. “What do you think of Alastir?”

I thought about that for a moment. “He seems nice, but it’s not like I know him.” I lifted my gaze to his. “Kieran said you are close with him.”

“I’ve known him my entire life. He’s like a second father to Malik and me. To even Kieran. When I wanted to do something and my mother said no, and my father would ask what my mother said,”—a faint grin appeared—“which was usually no, obviously, I then went to Alastir.”

“And what did he say?”

“Usually, yes. And if it was something reckless or if he thought I might find myself in trouble, he followed,” he said. “Alastir found you very…unexpected.”

“I thought you warned him about how outspoken I could be.”

“Apparently, not well enough.”

I took a deep breath. “Am I still in jeopardy with him?”

“Hopefully, not for much longer.” Casteel turned to the earthen steps. Another long moment passed. “I know you hate being kept in a room, secluded. I didn’t mean to leave you in there for that long.”

Saying none of what I wanted to, I stared at his shoulder.

“I had to speak with Mrs. Tulis about her husband,” he continued, voice soft. “About why what happened had to.”

Mouth suddenly dry, I lifted my gaze to his.

“She was upset. Unsurprisingly. She couldn’t believe that he’d taken part in what he did. I don’t think she even believed me.” He tipped his head back, squinting at the snow as it drifted through the trees. “I can’t even blame her for doubting what I said. How often had she been lied to by the Ascended? Speaking with her took longer than I anticipated.”

A smidgeon of guilt blossomed. “How…? Is she okay now?” I asked, wincing. Of course, she wasn’t okay. Her husband was dead.

“I gave her the option to stay with the people of New Haven, promising her that no harm would come to her or, if she wished, I told her I would provide her safe passage to another town.” He lowered his chin. “She is to let me know.”

“I hope she chooses to stay,” I whispered.

“As do I.” He exhaled roughly. “Can you see the steps?” When I nodded, he said, “I’ll follow you down.”

I hesitated and swallowed thickly. I wasn’t afraid of the dark or tunnels, but… “I’ve never been underground before.”

“It’s a lot like being aboveground.”

I sent him a dry look. “Really?”

He chuckled then, and the sound was soft and real. “Okay. It’s nothing like being aboveground, but we’ll only be in a narrow tunnel for a very short distance and then you’ll forget you’re underground.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You will,” he said, his tone quiet and heavy.

My eyes met his for a moment, and then I exhaled, nodding. I had no idea what we were doing, but I was curious. I was always curious. Carefully, I made my way down the steps, placing my hands on the damp, cool walls. Once I reached the bottom, I tried not to think about how I was underground. I took a couple of cautious steps forward. Lit torches spaced several feet apart cast light upon the stone and dirt floor and the low ceiling, continuing for as far as I could see. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be.

The door clicked shut, and then Casteel landed behind me. I turned, wondering if he’d jumped, but he turned to face me. Suddenly, we were chest to chest. Under the scent of rich soil, there was the hint of him. Of pine and spice. His eyes met mine, and I quickly looked away, unsettled by…everything.

“What is this?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded steadier than it felt.

“It is different things to different people.” Casteel stepped around me, his shoulder and hip brushing mine. I knew the shiver had nothing to do with the surroundings.

His hand curved around mine once more, and the spark of his skin touching mine traveled up my arm. “To some people, this is a place of reflection,” he said as he began walking, and I wondered if he felt that charge of energy. We continued down the tunnel. “For some, it is a place to bear witness to what many strive to forget.”

The shadows ahead disappeared as the tunnel came to an end. Several feet of stairs led down into a space that opened into what appeared to be some sort of circular chamber with high ceilings and…dear gods, it had to be the length of the keep itself. Dozens and dozens of torches jutted out from the stone, casting light across the chamber’s walls. Only the center was in shadows. Within that gloom, there appeared to be several benches.

“To others, this is simply a tomb. Hallowed ground.” Casteel let go of my hand. “One of the few places in all of Solis where those who have lost family members to the Ascended can mourn.”

I was moving before I knew it, walking down the stairs and then onto the chamber’s floor. Pedestals were situated every couple of feet, and upon them rested slender chisels and hammers. I went to the right, my gaze crawling over the wall—over what was etched into the stone. There were words. Names. Ages. Some with epithets. Others with none. As I drew closer, I saw sketches carved into the stone. Portraits rendered by capable, artistic hands. A shuddering breath left me as I followed the curve of the wall. The names…there were so many of them. They flowed over the surface, from floor to ceiling, but the dates were what formed a knot in my chest, each marking the birth and then the death. The realization that many shared the same death dates moved the knot to my throat, and the recognition of those dates caused the carvings in the wall to blur.

Quite a few of the death dates were sporadic, some several hundred years ago. While others were only a decade or five years ago, or last year, or…or a couple of months ago. But many others had dates that lined up with the Rites of the past.