From Blood and Ash: Chapter 41

After quickly drying off and changing into clean, dry clothing, I did everything in my power to forget that the brief conversation in the bathing chamber with Kieran had happened.

The breeches were a little tight, causing me to wonder if they had belonged to a child, but they were clean and soft, and I wasn’t complaining. The long-sleeve tunic was made of heavy wool and reached my knees. The slits in the sides ended at the hips and would’ve made for easy access to my dagger.

But I hadn’t seen my dagger since the stables, and based on what I’d done with the last one…

I winced.

I doubted I’d have access to one anytime soon, which made escaping difficult. I needed a weapon, any weapon, but what I wanted was the dagger Vikter had given me.

I added that to my plan that wasn’t quite a plan. At least, not yet.

Kieran left shortly after I came out of the bathing chamber, locking the door behind him. I doubted he went very far. Was probably standing outside the door.

I started to braid my still-drying hair, but remembered the mark on my neck and let the strands hang loose. I then roamed the room aimlessly. There was no avenue of escape. I couldn’t even fit through the window. Was I going to be kept here until whenever time he deemed fit for me to leave?

Sighing, I plopped down on the bed. It was soft, so much thicker than the straw mat in the cell. I lay down, facing the door as I curled on my side.

What would happen when he returned for me? Would his seeming acceptance of my attempted murder change? Everything he’d said about the Ascended may very well be true, but he was still the Dark One, and he was just as dangerous. He’d said so himself.

There was a lot of blood on his hands.

With how thinly my nerves were stretched, I didn’t think I would doze off again, but that was exactly what happened. It had to be…it had to be the still-tender bite and its effect. Because one moment, I was alert, staring at the closed door. The next, I was out, slipping into a deep sleep where I did not dream. I wasn’t sure what woke me at first. It wasn’t my name being called. It wasn’t words at all.

It was a faint touch on my cheek and then on the side of my neck, just above the bite. My eyes fluttered open. The room was dim except for the sconces and the single oil lamp on the nightstand, but I still saw him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and there was a dipping motion in my chest at the first sight of him, like always happened. I imagined it always would, no matter what I knew about him.

At least, he’d found a shirt.

And had bathed somewhere, because his hair was damp, curling against his temples and ears.

Dressed in all-black, he cut an imposing, striking figure, and I no longer saw his attire that of the uniform of a guard. I saw the Dark One. I glanced down at the sleeve of the dark tunic I wore and then to my curled leg, where I expected to see the black breeches. Instead, I saw a threaded quilt draped over my legs. Unsettled, I lifted my gaze to his.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did I. Not for a long time. His fingers remained on my throat, above the mark. After what felt like an eternity, he removed his hand and asked, “How are you feeling?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. A giggle burst free.

His head cocked to the side as a half-grin appeared. “What?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me if I’m okay when I stabbed you in the heart.”

“Do you think you should be asking me that question?”

Yes? No? Maybe?

The grin deepened. “I’m relieved to hear that you care. I’m perfectly fine.”

“I don’t care,” I muttered, sitting up.

“Lies,” he murmured.

He was right, of course, because without realizing what I was doing, I reached out with my senses to see if he was in physical pain. He wasn’t. What I’d done earlier had worn off. I knew this because I felt the anguish that always brewed just below the surface. There was something else there, though. I’d felt it before. Confusion or conflict.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine.” Pulling my gift back, I looked down at the quilt. It was a faint yellow and old. I wondered who it belonged to.

“Kieran said you dozed off in the bath.”

“Did he tell you that he came into the bathing chamber?”

“Yes.”

Surprised, my gaze shot to his.

“I trust Kieran,” he said. “You’ve been asleep for several hours.”

“Is that not normal?”

“It’s not abnormal. I guess I’m…” He frowned as if something had just occurred to him. “I guess I’m feeling guilty for biting you.”

“You guess?” My brows lifted.

He appeared to mull that over and then nodded. “I believe so.”

“You should feel guilt!”

“Even though you stabbed me and left me to die?”

I snapped my mouth shut as my stomach churned with nausea. “You didn’t die. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” There was a teasing glint to his eyes. “I was barely winded.”

“Congratulations,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled.

Annoyed, I shoved the quilt off my legs and scooted to the other side of the bed. “Why are you here? To take me back to the cell?”

“I should. If anyone other than Kieran knew you had stabbed me, I would be expected to.”

I stood. “Then why don’t you?”

“I don’t want to.”

I stared at him, hands opening and closing at my sides while he remained seated on the bed. “So, what now? How is this going to work, Your Highness?” Satisfaction surged when I caught the way his jaw tightened. “You’ll keep me locked up in a room until you’re ready for us to leave?”

“Do you not like this room?”

“It’s far better than a dirty cell, but it’s still a prison. A cage, no matter how nice the accommodations are.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You would know, wouldn’t you? After all, you’ve been imprisoned since you were a child. Caged and veiled.”

There was no denying that. I’d been kept in both comfortable cages and bare ones. The reasons were different, but the end result was the same. Folding my arms, I looked at the small window, to the night sky beyond.

“I came here to escort you to dinner.”

“Escort me to dinner?” Disbelief widened my eyes as I focused on him once more.

“I feel like there’s an echo in this room, but yes, I imagine you’re hungry,” he said, and my stomach took that exact moment to confirm that was true. “And we’ll discuss what will happen next when we have some food in our stomachs.”

“No.”

His brows lifted. “No?”

I knew I was being difficult over something not worth it. Just like I had been with Kieran. But I was not going to be at anyone’s beck and call. I wasn’t the Maiden any longer. And things were not okay between us just because we had a temporary loss of rationale in the woods. He’d betrayed me. I’d tried to kill him. He still planned to use me to free his brother. We were enemies, no matter the truths.

No matter that I loved him.

“You have to be hungry,” he said, pausing as he stretched out on his side, supporting his cheek with his fist. He couldn’t look more comfortable if he tried.

Or more alluring.

I shook my head. “I am hungry.”

He sighed. “Then what’s the problem, Princess?”

“I don’t want to eat with you,” I told him. “That’s the problem.”

“Well, it’s a problem you’re going to have to get over because it’s your only option.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I have options.” I turned from him. “I’d rather starve than eat with you, Your Highness—” I squeaked, almost coming out of my skin when he suddenly stood in front of me, moving so fast and so quietly I nearly missed it. “Gods,” I muttered, pressing my hand to my pounding heart.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess.” His eyes glowed a fiery amber as he glared down at me. “You don’t have options when it comes to your own well-being and your own foolish stubbornness.”

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t let you weaken or starve yourself because you’re mad. And I do get it. I get why you’re upset. Why you want to fight me on everything, every step of the way.” He took that step toward me, and my spine locked up as I refused to back away. His eyes burned brighter. “I want you to, Princess. I enjoy it.”

“You’re twisted.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” he retorted. “So, fight me. Argue with me. See if you can actually injure me next time. I dare you.”

My eyes widened as I lowered my arms. “You’re…there’s something wrong with you.”

“That may be true, but what is also true, is the fact that I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I can handle myself,” I shot back.

“I haven’t forgotten. I won’t ever prevent you from lifting a sword to protect your life or those you care about,” he said. “But I won’t let you shove that sword through your own heart to prove a point.”

Part of me was awed—still shocked that he wouldn’t stop me from fighting. The other half was infuriated that he thought he could control any part of me. As a whole, I let out a small shriek of frustration. “Of course, you won’t! What good am I to you dead? I imagine you still plan to use me to free your brother.”

A muscle along his jaw flexed. “You are nothing to me if you’re dead.”

I sucked in a sharp, stinging breath that scorched my lungs. What in the world had I expected him to say? That he wouldn’t want me dead because he cared? I knew better.

I had to know better.

“Come. The food will grow cold.” Without waiting for my response, he grabbed my hand. He started walking, but I dug in my heels. His head cranked toward me, the grip on my hand firm but not painful. “Don’t fight me on this, Poppy. You need to eat, and my people need to see that you have my protection if you have any hope of not finding yourself spending your days locked in a room.”

Every part of my being demanded that I do just what he claimed he enjoyed. It wanted me to fight him every step of the way, but common sense prevailed. Barely. I was hungry, and I needed to be at my strongest if I planned to escape. Plus, I needed his people to see that I was off-limits. If eating dinner with him like we were the closest friends would provide that, then I needed to deal.

So that was what I did.

I let him lead me out of the room, and I wasn’t even surprised when I found Kieran waiting for us. Based on the hint of amusement in his features, he must have heard at least half of our argument.

Kieran opened his mouth.

“Don’t test me,” he warned.

Chuckling under his breath, Kieran said nothing as he fell into step behind us. We took the same stairs we’d sped down hours earlier, and I tried not to think about my mad dash in the woods. What had happened when he caught me.

But a heatwave hit my veins nonetheless.

He glanced down at me, a questioning look in his gaze that I ignored while praying he couldn’t sense where my thoughts had gone.

As soon as we entered the common area, Kieran slowed his pace so he walked directly behind me. I knew that was no unconscious act. Descenters lined the walls, their faces pale as they whispered to one another, their eyes following us. I recognized some of them who’d stood in audience outside the cell. I saw Magda. There was no pity in her eyes now. Just…speculation.

I lifted my chin and straightened my spine. The Ascended might very well be evil incarnate, and an untold number of people in Solis may be complicit, but what they did to me proved that they were no better.

We rounded the corner, and my gaze lifted—

“Oh, my gods,” I whispered, I stumbled back as my free hand flew to my mouth. I bumped into Kieran.

His hand landed on my shoulder, steadying me as I stared at the walls of the hall. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe as horror choked me.

Now I understood the pale faces in the common area. Bodies lined the walls, arms outstretched, and spikes of bloodstone nailed through their hands. Some had received a reddish-brown stake through the center of their chests, others through the head. Some of them were mortal. Some were Atlantian. A half a dozen of them on either side. I saw Rolf and the man I had rendered unconscious, and I saw…

I saw Mr. Tulis.

My knees weakened as I stared up at him. He was dead, face a ghastly gray color. He was mortal, but a stake protruded from his still chest nonetheless.

All he’d wanted was to save his last child. He’d been given an opportunity to do so. He’d escaped, and now…now he was here.

Not all of them were dead.

One still breathed.

Jericho.

I locked down my senses before I could reach out and see what kind of pain he was in. His shaggy head hung as his chest rose in ragged, uneven breaths. Bloodstone pierced his palms, but the final fatal spike was thrust through his throat. Crimson colored the front of his bare chest, his pants, and pooled on the floor below him.

“I promised you they’d pay for what they did.” He didn’t sound or look smug. He didn’t sound proud. “And now the others know what will happen if they disobey me and seek to harm you.”

Bile crept up my throat. “He’s…he’s still alive,” I whispered, staring up at the wolven.

“Only until I am ready to end his life,” he commented, dropping my hand. He strode forward without another look back. Two men opened the large wooden doors to the Great Room, and he entered, stalking toward the center table where several covered dishes waited.

I thought I might be sick.

Kieran’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “They deserved no less.”

Had they?

Even Mr. Tulis, who’d most likely delivered the fatal blow to me.

“Go.” He urged with his hand. Somehow, I got my feet moving as I walked past the bodies pinned to the wall like butterflies.

In a daze, I didn’t realize that I was seated to the right of him at the table, typically a place of honor. Kieran took the chair next to me. Numbly, I sat there as servants unveiled the platters of food while the rest of his entourage followed suit, seating themselves at the table. I recognized Delano and Naill, oddly relieved to see that they were okay. They had defended me, and I didn’t want to think about the reasons behind it.

Laid out before us was a feast. Stewed beef. Roasted duck. Cold meats and cheese. Baked potatoes. All of it smelled wonderful.

But my stomach churned as I sat there, unable to move. Kieran offered me some of the beef, and I must’ve agreed because it ended up on my plate. Then came the duck and potato. He was the one who broke off a hunk of cheese and placed it on my plate as he reached for his glass, seeming to remember that it was one of my weaknesses.

I stared down at my plate. I didn’t see the food. I saw the bodies outside the room as conversation was slow to start but soon picked up and became a steady hum. Glasses and plates clinked. Laughter sounded.

And there were bodies nailed to the walls outside the Great Room.

“Poppy.”

Blinking, I looked up at him. His golden eyes had cooled, but his jaw was hard enough to cut glass.

“Eat,” he ordered in a low voice.

I reached for a fork, picking it up and spearing a piece of meat. I took a bite, chewing slowly. It tasted as good as it smelled, but it settled too heavily in my stomach. I scooped up some of the potatoes.

A few moments passed, and he said, “You don’t agree with what I did to them?”

I looked over at him, unsure of how to even answer the question—if it was even a question at all.

He sat back, glass in hand. “Or are you so shocked, you’re actually speechless?”

Swallowing the last bit of food, I slowly placed the fork on the table. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Can’t imagine you were.” He smirked as he lifted the glass to his lips.

“How…how long will you leave them there?”

“Until I feel like it.”

My chest twisted. “And Jericho?”

“Until I know for sure no one will dare to lift a hand against you again.”

Becoming aware that several of the men around us had stopped talking and were listening, I chose my next words carefully. “I don’t know your people very well, but I would think that they have learned a lesson.”

He took a drink. “What I did disturbs you.”

I knew that wasn’t a question. My gaze shifted back to my plate. Did it disturb me? Yes. I think it would unsettle most. Or at least, I hoped so. The blatancy of the kind of violence he was capable of was shocking if not entirely surprising, further separating him from the guard I knew as Hawke.

“Eat,” he said again, lowering his cup. “I know you need to eat more than that.”

I bit back the urge to tell him I was capable of determining how much food I needed to consume. Instead, I opened my senses to him. The anguish there was different, tasting…tangy and almost bitter. The urge to reach out to him hit hard, causing me to curl one hand in my lap. Had what happened between us caused this? Was it what he’d done to his own supporters? It could possibly be both. I reached for my drink, closing my eyes, and when I reopened them, I found him watching me through thick lashes.

I could tell him that it did bother me. I could say nothing at all. I imagined that perhaps he expected one of those two things from me. But I told him the truth. Not because I felt like I owed it to him, but because I owed it to myself.

“When I saw them, it horrified me. That was shocking, especially Mr. Tulis. What you did was surprising, but what disturbs me the most is that I—” I drew in a deep breath. “I don’t feel all that bad.”

Those heavy lids lifted, and his stare was piercing.

“Those people laughed when Jericho talked about cutting my hand off. Cheered when I bled and screamed and offered other options for pieces for Jericho to carve and keep,” I said, and the silence around us was almost unbearable. “I’d never even met most of them before, and they were happy to see me ripped apart. So, I don’t feel sympathy.”

“They don’t deserve it,” he stated quietly.

“Agreed,” Kieran murmured.

I lifted my chin. “But they’re still mortal—or Atlantian. They still deserve dignity in death.”

“They didn’t believe you deserved any dignity,” he stated.

“They were wrong, but that doesn’t make this right,” I said.

His gaze drifted over my face. The muscle had stopped ticking. “Eat,” he repeated.

“You’re obsessed with ensuring that I eat,” I told him.

One side of his lips kicked up. “Eat, and I’ll tell you our plans.”

That got several other people’s attention. Hoping my stomach didn’t revolt, I started eating instead of picking at my food. I didn’t dare look at Kieran, because if I did, I would be looking outside the Great Room to the hall.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” he stated, and I almost choked on the chunk of cheese I’d taken a bite of. None of those around me seemed at all surprised.

“Tomorrow?” I squeaked, torn between panic and hope. I would have a better chance of escaping out on the road than I would here.

He nodded. “As I said, we’ll be going home.”

I took a healthy drink from my glass. “But Atlantia is not my home.”

“But it is. At least, partly.”

“What does that mean?” Across from me, Delano spoke for the first time.

“It means it’s something I should’ve figured out sooner. So many things now make sense when they didn’t before. Why they made you the Maiden, how you survived a Craven attack. Your gifts,” he said, lowering his voice on the last part so only I and those immediately around us could hear him. “You’re not mortal, Poppy. At least, not completely.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, not quite sure I heard him correctly. For a moment, I thought something was lodged in my throat. I took a drink, but the sensation was still there.

Delano’s jewel blue eyes sharpened. “Are you suggesting that she’s…”

“Part Atlantian?” he finished for him. “Yes.”

My hand trembled, sloshing liquid onto my fingers. “That’s impossible,” I whispered.

“Are you sure?” Delano asked him, and when I looked at him, I could see the shock in his eyes as his gaze moved over me, stopping and lingering on my neck.

“One hundred percent,” he answered.

“How?” I demanded.

A faint smile played across his full lips. His gaze too lowered and stopped…on my throat.

On the bite that I realized was barely hidden under the strands of hair. My blood. He knew after…tasting my blood?

Delano’s eyes went wide as he sat back, staring at me like it was the first time he’d ever seen me. Forgetting about the Hall, I looked at Kieran. I saw none of that. He arched a brow at me. This wasn’t news to him. “It’s rare, but it happens. A mortal crosses paths with an Atlantian. Nature takes its course, and nine months later, a mortal child is born.” Kieran paused and ran his thumb over the rim of his chalice. “But every so often, a child of both kingdoms is born. Mortal and Atlantian.”

“No. You have to be mistaken.” I twisted in my seat. “My mother and father were mortal—”

“How can you be sure?” Hawke cut me off—no, not Hawke. Casteel. The Prince. “You thought I was mortal.”

My heart lurched against my chest. “But my brother, he’s an Ascended now.”

“That’s a good question,” Delano tacked on.

“Only if we’re working off the assumption that he is your full, blooded brother,” he said, and I gasped.

“Or that he even has Ascended,” someone commented.

The glass started to slip from my fingers—

His reflexes were lightning-quick. He caught the glass before it could hit the table. Placing it down, he then covered my hand, lowering it to the table. “Your brother is alive.”

My heart had stopped. “How can you be sure?”

“I’ve had eyes on him for months, Poppy. He hasn’t been seen during the day, and I can only imagine that means he is an Ascended.”

Someone cursed and then spat on the floor. I closed my eyes. Part…part Atlantian? If that was why I was the Chosen and was the source of my abilities, then had the Duke and the Duchess known? The Queen? I opened my eyes. “Why would they keep me alive if they knew?”

His lips thinned. “Why do they keep my brother?”

I jolted, my entire body freezing. “I can’t do that. Right? I mean, I don’t have…the, uh, parts for it.”

“Parts?” Kieran coughed. “What have you been filling her head with?”

The Prince slid him a bland look. “Teeth. I do believe she means these.” Curling his upper lip, he ran this tongue over one fang, and my stomach dipped and twisted in a mixture of pleasure and unease. “They don’t need that. They just need your blood for them to complete the Ascension.”

If I wasn’t sitting, I likely would’ve fallen over. I wanted to refute his claim, but I couldn’t come up with one good reason for why he’d lie about this. There was nothing to gain from doing so. I bent slightly in my chair, wondering if it was possible that I was having a heart attack.

“I’m curious, Cas. Why must we go home?” Kieran asked, and I swore his voice rose with purpose. “When we will be going farther away from where your brother is held.”

“It is the only place we can go,” he replied, those golden eyes remaining fixed on me. “Did you know that an Atlantian can only marry if both halves are standing in the soil of their land? It’s the only way for them to become whole.”

My lips parted as a hush descended over the entire room. Still reeling from the whole half-Atlantian thing, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. That he was saying…

That damn dimple appeared in his right cheek and then in his left. Casteel Da’Neer, the Prince of Atlantia, smiled fully as he lifted our joined hands and said, “We go home to marry, my Princess.”

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