“Your Highness,” the young man who held the torch said with a voice pitched with awe. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head, and I was half afraid he’d lose his grip on the torch.
“There’s no need for that,” Casteel said, drawing us closer to the young man. He shifted behind me. “Is that you, Quentyn?”
The man’s head bobbed. “Yes, Your Highness—I mean, my Prince. It is I.”
“Gods, you’ve grown at least a foot or two since I last saw you.” The smile was evident in Casteel’s tone, and I almost turned to see it. “Did Alastir drag you out here?”
“I wanted to go with him,” Quentyn answered. “So did Beckett.”
“Maybe you can tell him to rise.” Kieran rode past the young boy. “The longer he continues to kneel, the larger your ego will grow.”
“Don’t know if that’s possible,” Naill said under his breath.
I raised a brow.
Casteel laughed. “You can rise, Quentyn. And call me Casteel, like everyone else.”
Quentyn rose so fast that I had no idea how he didn’t light his head on fire in the process. Admiration filled the boyish face. It was too dark for me to make out his eyes as he glanced curiously in my direction. “We’ve been waiting for you, hopeful that you’d make it here tonight.”
“Where’s Alastir?” Casteel asked as the wolven trotted between Delano and us.
“He’s retired for the evening.”
Casteel snorted. “More like he passed out. He was talking about some whiskey he’d gotten his hands on when I last saw him.”
“I…uh, do believe that the whiskey may have aided in his inability to stay awake,” Quentyn answered sheepishly.
I grinned, unable to help myself.
“But we made sure fires were lit in the rooms since it does get chilly here at night,” Quentyn continued, glancing up at me curiously.
“Allow me to introduce my fiancée.” Casteel took note of his questioning looks. “This is Penellaphe.”
Fiancée.
My grip on the saddle loosened, and I wondered if the dizziness was just my imagination. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to hearing him say that.
“Alastir said you were bringing a lady with you—your fiancée.” The torch bobbed along with him. “I mean, congratulations! To you both. You hear that, Beckett? This is our Prince’s fiancée.”
Beckett, the wolven, bounced happily across the road, disappearing into the brush.
“Penellaphe, this is Quentyn Da’Lahr. The overly excited pup is Beckett Davenwill, a great-nephew of Alastir.”
Act like yourself. That was what Casteel had advised earlier. What would I normally do? Sitting here and staring at the young man as if I had no brain between my ears was not how I’d behave. I would smile and say hello. I could do that.
Fixing what I hoped was a normal smile on my face, I gave Quentyn a small wave. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s an honor to meet you!” Quentyn offered a jaunty wave with the torch in return.
The enthusiasm in his voice and greeting softened my smile, and it no longer felt like it was plastered there.
I felt rather proud of myself as we passed a copse of trees, and the fort came into view. Torches and lanterns warmed the sand-colored stone of the ancient fortress, which rose higher than the Rise. Massive columns supported walkways that connected the roof of the stronghold to the Rise.
Arriving at the stables, Casteel demounted with ease and then settled his hands on my hips, lifting me from the saddle. My pulse thrummed as my body slid against his, our heavy cloaks proving to be no real barrier. The hands at my hips tightened. I looked up, his gaze catching mine. For a moment, neither of us moved as we stared at each other. There was an intent in the shape of his lips, one my body seemed to inherently recognize and respond to. I suddenly felt entirely too tight and yet too loose at the same time. His head tilted, sending my blood pumping. Anticipation was swift and sweet, and I knew I should pull away. We didn’t have to be this convincing, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I was snared like a rabbit.
“The rooms are right over here,” Quentyn announced, breaking the spell. Casteel turned, grabbing our bags as Quentyn headed toward our left. I patted Setti goodnight and then followed Quentyn.
“None of the rooms on the upper levels are all that useable, but the ones on the ground level are pretty nice.” He stopped suddenly. “Oh—one second. Be right back.”
Blood still thrumming, I watched Quentyn dart through an open doorway, into a lit room. “He…um, he seems young.”
“He just went through the Culling,” Casteel explained, and I thought his voice sounded thicker, richer.
“I’m surprised to see him out here,” Kieran said, having reappeared. “And that one”—he nodded behind us—“especially.”
I looked to find Delano leading the horses toward the stables. The small wolven trotted beside him, ears perked as Delano spoke to him, tail wagging frantically.
“Both are far too young.” Naill joined us. “I was under the impression that none of the young had moved out here.”
“As was I.” Casteel squinted. “The last I saw of Beckett, he could barely control holding one form or the other.”
I blinked. “Is that common?”
Kieran nodded. “It takes at least two decades for us to gain control over our two halves. Any slight change of emotion can send us to four legs or two.”
“That has to be…inconvenient.”
He laughed dryly. “You have no idea.”
“Have Atlantians relocated to Spessa’s End?” I asked. “Is that what you meant by a temporary fix to the land issue?”
Casteel nodded. “It hasn’t made a huge impact. Not yet. But it has freed up some of the homes and land. Those who’ve moved out here have been hand-selected for the most part. Old enough and trained in case the Ascended do happen to venture to these parts, but that hasn’t happened since the Ascended laid siege to the town.”
“How many people live here now?” I asked.
“A hundred, give or take a few.”
Irritation pricked at me as my gaze swept over the smooth stone façade of the fortress. Why was Casteel just now telling me this instead of when he first spoke of the land and the population issue in Atlantia? Or at any point after that? Better yet, why was I irritated that he hadn’t? Was this information even necessary for me to know? Probably not, but it still…frustrated me.
The young Atlantian reappeared, carrying a bundle. “Alastir said that you may be in need of clothing, and we were able to gather some items. I don’t know if any of this will be helpful, but it’s clean, and I’m sure we’ll be able to get you more in the morning.”
I took the light bundle. “I’m sure it will be of use. Thank you.”
Quentyn beamed before pivoting on his heel. Kieran lingered back as we followed the Atlantian through the covered walkway. He chattered, telling us about the wildlife he’d seen as we passed several dark rooms and then continued around the side of the fortress where it was evident that no rooms were near. He swore he saw a cave cat, even though Alastir told him that there were none still alive in this area.
The first thing I saw was a terrace. Wind caught the pinned curtains, causing the material to snap softly. As Quentyn unlocked the door, I was able to make out a chaise lounge at one end, and several low-to-the-floor chairs.
Quentyn handed the key over to Casteel and then opened the door. “Alastir made sure the room was aired out and a fire lit since the nights get kind of cold here.”
A lamp turned on, casting light throughout the spacious, private living quarters outfitted with plush couches and a dining table.
“There are pitchers of fresh water by the fireplace.” Quentyn opened another set of doors, and I caught the scent of lemon and vanilla.
If the living area had been a surprise, the bedchamber was an utter shock. The fireplace sat in the corner, and as Quentyn indicated, several pitchers sat on the floor before it. In the center of the room was a canopied four-poster bed with gauzy white curtains. Across from it were double lattice doors that appeared to lead out to another terrace. On the other side was an entryway to a bathing chamber. All I could do was stare.
“If either of you would like, I can get more water for the bath,” Quentyn offered.
Casteel looked to me, and I shook my head. It was far too late for all that work. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“If you’re sure.” When I nodded, Quentyn added, “I cannot wait to have a shower where the only thing I have to do is turn a knob.”
“Shower?”
Casteel shot me a half-grin. “Instead of sitting in the bath, you stand. The clean water comes from the ceiling. It’s much like standing in a rain shower—a warm one.”
I stared at him.
A dimple appeared in his cheek as he turned to the other Atlantian. “She doesn’t believe that we have running hot water in Atlantia.”
Quentyn’s eyes grew to the size of small saucers. “He speaks the truth. I always took it for granted. I will never do that again.”
Marveling over the concept of a standing bath that felt like a warm rain shower, I didn’t even realize that Quentyn had left until Casteel spoke.