A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(89)

I honestly didn’t need to stand there and watch him dress. Dropping the towel, I quickly put on my clothes.

“Here.” Casteel fixed my sleeves again.

I didn’t know exactly what it was about that moment that made me think of the consequences of what we’d just done. The fact that it hadn’t even crossed my mind until now showed that I needed to make better life choices.

“You said that you took prevention for pregnancy,” I said, recalling that he’d taken an herb that rendered both males and females temporarily infertile. “Are you still covered?”

“Yes. I’m careful, Poppy,” he said without hesitation, gathering up our clothing and my boots. “I wouldn’t risk a child.”

Between us.

He hadn’t said that, but it hung in the air nonetheless. And there was another odd, irrational bite. One which made no sense because of the idea of having a child with anyone was more terrifying than finding an actual creature with fins for legs and tails for arms under my bed.

There was something obviously wrong with me because it still hurt.

Because what was real to him wasn’t the same for me.





Word of what I’d done to Beckett had spread. I knew this because everyone stared as I lifted a spoonful of thick herbal soup.

Well, not everyone.

Two Atlantians had commandeered Casteel’s attention. So had Kieran. I had no idea where Delano and Naill had disappeared to, and it could literally be anywhere since we were in one of the larger buildings in the town center. But the rest were either sneaking peeks in my direction or outright staring.

The mortals and Atlantians who sat at the table before us. The wolven interspersed throughout the rest of the tables. They all stared. Not that I could blame them. I had glowed silver, and I had healed someone with my touch. I’d be staring at someone who I’d heard or seen do that, too. But it was what was behind those stares that unnerved me. The air fairly vibrated with emotion, and like before, I hadn’t needed to concentrate, to open myself to feel the near hostility of most around me.

Swallowing the rich, flavorful soup, I lifted my gaze to the banners that hung on either side of the door. They rippled softly in the breeze coming through the open windows, which caught the blades of several fans, keeping the packed room cool.

A soft touch to my arm drew my attention to my right, where Alastir sat. “Would you like to take your dinner in your private quarters?” he asked quietly. “If so, I can escort you back to the fort.”

I lowered my spoon as I glanced to where Casteel sat at the head of the table. He was listening to an Atlantian as he rooted around on a plate of cheeses, inspecting each one as if he were looking for the perfect one or flaws. I refocused on Alastir. “Do I look that uncomfortable?”

A tight, worried smile appeared. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

It was hard to eat while people stared. My gaze flickered over the crowded room. Part of me wanted to excuse myself and return to my bedchamber, but this was only one of many dinners or events where I would be the object of interest. Plus, hiding in my quarters may be the easier option, but it would also be more cowardly. And besides, no one was projecting their emotions. There wasn’t a screamer among them, so I could ignore them. Mostly.

“I’m fine,” I decided.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I know it must be hard to be around so many who aren’t welcoming of you and know how they feel. I would not think ill of you if you don’t want to expose yourself to that. And just know that anyone who has spent even a few minutes in your presence does not feel that way. The rest will come to know you, I’m sure. But until then, I apologize for their behavior.”

He squeezed my arm gently. “Did you know that this was once a very busy trading post?”

I swallowed the knot his words formed in my chest.

“When Atlantia ruled over the entire kingdom, this was the first and last major city before you crossed the Skotos Mountains. There used to be…thousands that once passed through here,” he said, sighing as his gaze coasted over the bare walls. “It was such a shame to see what became of this place, but Casteel and these people are slowly restoring it and bringing new life.”

Quentyn strode out from an area where the food had been prepared, carrying a large pitcher. Another trailed behind him, shorter and younger with a slight limp. It took me a moment to recognize the boy with the black hair and tan skin. I’d only seen him in his wolven form and very briefly as a mortal, but his skin had been pale and clammy then.

Beckett.

I watched him refill the glasses at the end of the table and make his way toward us. As he refilled his great-uncle’s glass, he finally looked at me.

“We already met,” he whispered. “Kind of.”

“Beckett,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

“Almost perfect.” He poured water into my glass as he glanced back at Alastir before dipping his chin. “Thank you. I can’t say that enough.”

“You already have.”

A wide, toothy grin broke out across his face but quickly faded, and I felt a sharp spike of…of fear before he moved on to the other side of the table.

Was he now afraid of me?

I sat back as the knot in my chest expanded. I couldn’t understand why. I’d healed him—how I’d done that, I had no idea—but Beckett had to know that I wasn’t someone to fear.

“Penellaphe? Are you all right?”

A ragged breath left me as I looked at Alastir. “Yeah. Yes.” I smiled as I turned my attention back to him. “They seem very helpful. Beckett and Quentyn.”

“Respecting your elders is drilled into the young from a very early age. You will often find the youngest helping to serve food and drink at many dinner tables throughout Atlantia,” Casteel explained, having overheard me.

Alastir snorted. “Except for you. You always had your nose in a book at the dinner table.”

Surprise distracted me from Beckett’s response. “What were you reading?”

“Usually history books or my studies,” he answered, one side of his lips tipping up. “I was an utterly boring child most of the time.”

My eyes connected with Kieran’s briefly, reminding me of what he’d shared about Casteel being the serious one.

“Well, your brother made up for that,” Alastir said, shaking his head. “You didn’t want Malik serving you anything at dinner.”

My gaze flew back to Casteel, and I watched his smile grow. I didn’t know what I expected, but it was so rare that anyone spoke of his brother.

“Malik would often…experiment with the drinks and food,” Casteel said when he caught my gaze. “And you did not want to be on the receiving end of those experiments.”

“I’m half afraid to ask,” I said.

“But you will,” Kieran murmured.

I ignored the wolven.

So did Casteel. “He would add lemon and pepper to juice, salt to dishes meant to be sweet, and generally ruin whatever it was that you were excited to eat.”

“That’s terrible,” I said, laughing.

He leaned over, lashes lowering as he said. “And yet, you laugh.”

“Yes.”

Casteel lifted his gaze, and the heat in it sent a shiver dancing over my skin. “Probably because it sounds like something you’d do.”

“Possibly.”

He chuckled as he straightened, turning back to the other table as he returned to picking through the cheese.

“How many—?” I stopped as Casteel’s hand brushed mine. He placed a hunk of cheese on my plate, one that had been thinly sliced. I glanced over at him. He was now listening to another mortal from the table behind ours. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

I picked up the cheese, smiling slightly before eating a piece of it. A sudden burst of laughter drew my attention. Kieran had risen, moved to sit with a few men at the end of the table. The laugh had come from where Beckett and Quentyn sat with Emil and some other men who’d traveled with Alastir. Wondering what had made Emil laugh so loudly, I tugged my attention away.

My gaze collided with that of two mortals. They were older. Males. One of them spoke in the other’s ear. The second man with neatly trimmed blond hair curled his lip. His disgust soured the cheese.

I took a drink, washing away the taste. That wasn’t the first unfriendly stare or mannerism I’d received, all done when Casteel was distracted—like now, since he’d risen to speak with a woman who was all bones and wrinkled skin. My grip tightened on the glass. Each time I caught one of their looks or stares, I wanted to ask if they needed assistance with something. I wanted to hold their stares until they grew as uncomfortable as I felt, but I said nothing. I did nothing. Just like when the Priestess scolded me, or the Duke lectured me.

“Don’t pay them any mind,” Alastir murmured quietly.

I placed my glass on the table.

“They just don’t know you,” he repeated. His smile was as false as the one I often wore as the Maiden. “Their distrust or even dislike of you is something you must get used to as their Princess and soon-to-be Queen.”

Queen.

My entire body seized. That wasn’t going to happen, I reminded myself. Even if the impossible happened and Casteel and I—well, I couldn’t even finish that thought. Casteel didn’t want to become King.