The skin at his eyes creased as my gift suddenly pressed against my skin, responding to the sudden shift in his emotions. An agony so potent and raw that it reached out to me. I opened myself, unable to stop it, and immediately tensed at the turmoil rolling through him, thus passing to me. His grief cut so deeply, it made it hard to breathe. I started to use my gift differently, to lessen the pain.
“Did you know that Casteel has been in love before?”
His question threw me, causing me to drop the connection with him. Even then, the tangy bitterness of sorrow still filled the back of my throat. “Yes, I know that.”
And that was all I knew. That he had been in love.
“Did he tell you that he was once engaged?”
Words left me. I shook my head.
A small, sad smile appeared. “I’m not surprised to hear that. He doesn’t talk about her often. No matter how much I’ve tried in the past. And to be honest, I can’t remember the last time he even said her name. I can’t blame him for that, and neither should you. She is a wound that has healed, but still a wound nonetheless. He would be…” He looked down the hall, his shoulders tensing and then loosening. “He would be very upset with me to know that I spoke of Shea with you. And, truthfully, I am overstepping here. But you need to know why I was so surprised to learn of your engagement. I honestly didn’t think Casteel would ever allow himself to feel like that again.” His gaze met mine. “And you need to know why I hope his motivations for this marriage are true and rooted in his heart and not as a desperate bid to find his brother.”
I didn’t know which part of what he’d shared was the most shocking. That Casteel had been engaged—to a wolven—that he’d been in love with someone who was so obviously no longer alive, or that Alastir wanted the marriage between us to be real.
I cleared my throat. “Shea was your daughter?”
Alastir nodded. “She was. And it’s strange, I barely know you, but you remind me of her. She too often spoke her mind, much to the ire of everyone around her. And she was capable of defending herself when needed.” He laughed a little. “I would guess that is one of the things that has drawn Casteel to you. That allowed him to see beyond the veil, so to speak.”
I didn’t know what to think of any of that. “When did she…die? How?”
“It was quite some time ago, many years before you were born.” His words were yet another reminder of how many years of experience Casteel had. “She is my daughter, but her death is not my story to share. That’s Casteel’s.” His gaze met and held mine. “And I do hope it is one that he’ll one day share with you.”
I’d believed that the source of Casteel’s grief had stemmed from his brother’s capture, but I’d already discovered that some of it was from what had been done to him. And now I wondered just how much of it was tied to this man’s daughter.
“I’m sorry to hear about your child,” I said, meaning it. “And I won’t say anything.”
“I don’t mind if you do. To be frank, I hope he does talk to you—talks to someone about her.”
I was the last person who should be speaking to him about Shea. “Why are you telling me this, though? It doesn’t sound like it’s something I should bring up with him.”
“It’s not. At least, not now. I hope that he will open up and talk to someone one day, even if it’s not me. The reason I’m telling you this is because Shea was no damsel. I can see that you aren’t either. But I hope you are not so much like her that you don’t ask for help or refuse it when you need it.” He patted my hand. “I will forever be loyal to my kingdom, to the gods, and to the Da’Neers, but even if I never had a daughter, I could not stand by and watch a young woman be used against her will in such a way. War is cruel. There are casualties. But this would be unnecessarily cruel, and I will not stand for it.”
My heart was pounding again. Could he sense that?
“Casteel has been determined to find his brother for decades, Penellaphe. Enough time to fill a mortal’s lifespan. And while I hope he has finally moved on, that he will assume the role his kingdom desperately needs, most importantly, I wish that he is finally allowing himself to live. I want to believe that. Yet, I don’t.”
I tensed.
Alastir’s gaze met mine. “So, that is why I’m offering you my aid. If you are being forced into this, I will help you escape. I will do everything in my power to ensure safe passage. Not to send you back to Solis. I will not hand you over to those who seek to abuse you in a different way. But I will make sure you are somewhere neither the Ascended nor Casteel can ever reach you. All you have to do is tell me, and this will be over for you.”
The breath I took went nowhere as I processed his words—his offer. It was freedom. The same as Casteel offered, but without the strings of marriage and all the pretending and the risks involved. And I believed the sincerity of his offer. This man who’d just met me would risk the ire of his Prince, possibly even consequences that extended far beyond anger, to help a girl he barely knew. All because he was…
Because he was a good man.
And it was something I could see Vikter doing. It was something I knew Vikter had wished that he could’ve done once he realized how much being the Maiden was killing me, bit by bit, each and every day. Tears burned the backs of my eyes once more.
“Dear gods,” Alastir uttered. “I think the threat of tears tells me everything I need to know. I’m sorry—”
“No. It’s not that.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s just that your offer is unexpected. You’re a good person and—and there are so few good people. It’s something I think Vikter would’ve done, and it just made me think of him.”
“And that’s all?” He watched me closely, placing his other hand over mine.
“Yes,” I said, holding his gaze. “I appreciate your offer. I appreciate what you are willing to do for me. But he’s not using me. Not like that.”
“You don’t need my help, then?”
“I don’t. I swear.”
And I didn’t. Not now.
If he’d come to me a day before, my answer probably would’ve been different. I would’ve said yes. I would’ve run. But he couldn’t give me what Casteel could. Ian. And I couldn’t walk away now, knowing that I could help change things for the people of Solis. The freedom Alastir offered wasn’t the kind I needed.
Alastir sighed, and I could tell that he thought I was making a foolish choice. Maybe that meant he didn’t believe Casteel. It could mean he felt bad for me because he believed me. I didn’t know.
“If you ever change your mind,” he said, his eyes sad, “you only need to tell me. Can you promise me that?”
I really felt like crying now. “I can promise that.”
“Good.” He smiled, and I…
I didn’t even know what I was doing until I sprang forward and threw my arms around Alastir. I hugged him. The gesture stunned the man. For a moment, he didn’t move, but then he put his arms around me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling away. My face was hot.
He smiled then, one that crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes. “You never need to apologize for a hug, Penellaphe. It’s been far too long since I’ve had one, to be honest. Neither Casteel nor Kieran is the hugging type.”
I laughed hoarsely. “I think if I tried to hug Kieran, he’d pass out.”
“Most likely. Well, I think I know all that I need to,” he said, yet he still sounded sad. I thought the emotion was either for his daughter, for Casteel, or even possibly for me. “I should probably get you back to the Prince.”
I started to turn but stopped. I didn’t know when we’d get a chance to speak privately again. “May I ask you something?” When Alastir nodded, I said, “You used to help move Atlantians or their descendants from Solis?”
“I did.”
“I was thinking about my parents—about why they left the capital. It’s possible that they knew what the Ascended planned or learned that they were descendants themselves. At least one of them. Were there others who did what you did?”
“There were others. Not many. And sadly, most never returned home.” He stroked his chin with his thumb. “We assume they were captured, so there aren’t many you could speak with.”
I hadn’t even dared to hope that there was anyone I could talk to. “I was just wondering if it was possible for my parents to have known that someone like you existed.”
“Of course, it was. The King and Queen knew that we were actively searching for our people,” he confirmed. “It’s possible one of your parents learned of us from an Ascended.” His head cocked. “So, you think that is what happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, running a hand over where the knife was sheathed to my thigh. “I don’t remember much about the night I was attacked, but I do remember that my father was quieter than usual during the trip. So was my mother. They seemed nervous instead of excited about starting a new life in a quieter place. And I…I think my father met with someone. I vaguely remember there being another person there.”