A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “Yet again,” I muttered. “Not helpful.”

  I didn’t get a chance to demand to know why Alastir would hold that kind of sway.

  Before Kieran could respond, I heard Alastir say something to him, and honestly, it sounded like a different language. My ears only started to process sounds when I heard Casteel say my name.

  Blood rushed to the tempo of a pounding drum as years of expected behavior and grooming kicked in on an unconscious level. I felt myself standing.

  Casteel touched the small of my back, the contact light yet I felt it in nearly every part of my body. My gaze slowly lifted to his, and the intensity in those amber depths held me captive. I thought I saw something akin to concern settling into his features. Was I still breathing too fast?

  “Penellaphe?” he repeated.

  “I’m sorry.” Feeling a little dizzy, I blinked. “Did you say something?”

  “I asked if you were finished with breakfast.” Casteel watched me closely.

  “Yes.” I nodded for extra emphasis.

  “Good.” He took hold of my hand as he tucked my hair back from my face, brushing the heavy strands over my shoulder. The act was an intimate gesture I wasn’t used to, and the look that settled in my features told me that he was growing concerned.

  I needed to pull myself together.

  If I could stand and remain silent during Duke Teerman’s lessons, I could behave as if I weren’t about to fall to the floor now.

  Fixing a smile to my face, I turned to Alastir as I pulled forth manners learned long ago. “Hello, Alastir. I hope you had a good evening?”

  A slight curve to his lips formed as he inclined his head. “It was. Thank you for asking.” He noted where Casteel held my hand and then arched a brow at Kieran. “It’s very polite of her to ask, unlike either of you.”

  Kieran sounded as if he choked on air, and on my other side, I thought I heard a muffled snort. I squeezed Casteel’s hand. Hard. “I’m learning that these two are not very well mannered,” I said. “I apologize for their lack of consideration.”

  Alastir’s gaze swiveled back to me as Emil grinned from where he stood, speaking with Naill. A deep laugh left Alastir, crinkling the skin around his eyes. My lips parted on a soft inhale. That laugh. All I could think of was Vikter, and my heart ached fiercely.

  “These two are definitely not ones I’d consider well-behaved under any circumstances,” Alastir replied.

  Casteel looked down at me, and I thought I saw an apology in his stare, as if he weren’t thrilled with how this might play out. He said nothing, even though Alastir waited, and others watched. He returned the squeeze, nowhere near as hard as I had done. Did he want me to…read him? I opened my senses, and what I tasted all of a sudden was a mix of sour and vanilla. Shame and sincerity. He wasn’t proud of this. Either that, or I was deciphering his emotions wrong. That could be possible, but I didn’t think so. I nodded, and his lashes lowered, shielding his eyes for the briefest moment.

  And then I saw it.

  The mask slipping into place, curving up the corner of his lip in a smug twist of a smile. His features sharpened, and when he opened his eyes again, they reminded me of chips of amber.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Alastir said, drawing my attention to him. The laughter had long since faded. “The Prince told me this morning that you accepted his proposal.”

  “I did.”

  “I must be honest, when he told me, I thought I might’ve drunk too much last night. I didn’t believe him when he said he was marrying, especially the Maiden.”

  “She is not the Maiden,” Casteel cut in swiftly. “Not anymore.” He let go of my hand and moved it to my back again.

  I felt an inexplicable warming in my chest, one that left me greatly unsettled.

  Alastir cocked an eyebrow. “I would imagine she’s not,” he said, and my eyes widened slightly. “But she was the Maiden.” He shifted his attention to Casteel. “Who she was may be in the past, but that does not change that past.”

  The hand at my back flattened as Casteel replied, “The past is irrelevant.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Alastir mused.

  “What I believe doesn’t matter.” Casteel’s palm slid off my back, leaving behind a shiver. He took my hand once more. “What does matter is that everyone else believes that.”

  “Spoken like a true Prince. Your mother and father would be proud.” Alastir grunted out a short, dry laugh as his gaze roamed over me once more, lingering on the side of my neck, where my hair had fallen over my shoulder. There was no doubt that he saw the faded marks. The line of his mouth tightened. “I’m glad you’re here, Penellaphe, as we’ve only had a few moments to speak, and I have many questions.”

  “I can imagine,” I murmured.

  Casteel tugged gently on my hand. “Sit with me?”

  Nodding, I started for the seat I’d just risen from, but Casteel moved to the chair at the head of the table. He sat, and it only struck me then where he planned for me to sit. Not in a chair but in his lap. I hesitated. There was no way I was sitting in his lap. Over my shoulder, I saw the others take their seats while Kieran moved to stand at Casteel’s left, and Alastir took the chair to his right, where I’d been seated earlier.

  Casteel looked up at me, the twist of his lips softening. What now filled his gaze was a challenge. My eyes narrowed, and he arched a brow. There was nowhere else to sit. The only other option would be to stand behind him like a servant, and I refused to do that. There was a space at the end—

  “Would you like this seat, Penellaphe?” Alastir offered.

  Knowing that seating at tables was often a demonstration of one’s position, I knew I shouldn’t accept the offer.

  “My fiancée is upset with me,” Casteel announced, surprising me enough that I turned to him.

  “I can’t imagine Penellaphe ever being upset with you,” Kieran commented, and I had the strongest urge to lean over and punch him.

  “I know.” Casteel’s smile was wider now, more real. The dimple in his left cheek was starting to make an appearance, and the hint of fangs caused my stomach to dip at the same time my ire spiked. “But I admit, I deserve it.”

  I stilled, unsure what he was about.

  “You’re not even married, and you’re already upsetting her?” Emil chuckled. “That’s not a good start.”

  “No, it’s not, which is why I must rectify this immediately. I’m sorry,” he said, the smile fading as his eyes met mine. “Truly. It wasn’t planned.”

  My skin pimpled. Was he apologizing for me not being prepared for this, in front of others?

  Casteel shifted, curling an arm around my waist. So caught off guard by his words, I ended up sitting sideways in his lap. He dipped his chin, and his lips brushed the curve of my ear as he whispered, “I thought I would have time to speak to you first.”

  I nodded slightly.

  His lips were a featherlight caress across my cheek, and then he said louder, “I didn’t plan the proposal, and to be honest, it wasn’t the very best, as many within Haven Keep witnessed, even those at the table. She actually told me no at first.”

  “That was not the only thing she said,” Naill commented with a chuckle. “Told him he was out of his mind. Told him a lot of things.”

  Did that Atlantian have a death wish?

  Casteel laughed. “It’s true, but I won her over, didn’t I?”

  The answering masculine chuckles caused my skin to prickle with irritation. My tongue moved before I could stop myself. “That was after I threw a knife at your face.”

  Alastir made a coughing sound as Kieran’s and my plates were removed and replaced with food. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes.” Casteel’s eyes were like warm pools of gold. “That was after you threw the knife at me. I haven’t been the best of suitors,” he continued, lifting my left hand. “I promised her the largest diamond I could find as soon as we return home.”

  “Well,” Al
astir drew out the word as he picked up a fork. “That is something that can be easily fixed upon returning. Our Queen has just what you need in safekeeping.”

  His mother had a diamond ring? For Casteel? For when he married? My spine couldn’t be more rigid. Why had I brought up the stupid jewelry? I didn’t even care about it since I…well, I’d never been allowed to wear any beyond the golden chains of the veil.

  “Casteel hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information on how you two met.” Alastir bit into his sausage, not taking the time to slice and dice it as Kieran had. “I wanted to ask when we last spoke. How did you end up in the incorrigible hands of our Prince, Penellaphe? I imagined someone of your…status would’ve been hard to reach, especially by someone like him.”

  Casteel let out a low laugh. “You should have more faith in my abilities to achieve what I want.”

  I tensed, feeling like those words were meant more for me than Alastir.

  “Be that as it may,” Alastir said with a wry grin, “how did he find a way to you?”

  Wondering how honest I was expected to be and precisely what kind of rumors he’d heard, I decided to be as truthful as possible. In the past, I’d learned that most lies were successful when the little information given was the truth. “He became my guard.”

  “Well, that’s not how we met initially.” Casteel’s hand that rested on the curve of my hip moved, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. “It was actually at a brothel.”

  Someone at the table sounded as if they choked on their food. I was betting it was Emil.

  A fair brow rose as Alastir chewed slowly. “That was…unexpected.”

  “The Red Pearl isn’t just a brothel,” I corrected, turning a narrow-eyed glare on Casteel.

  He grinned. “It’s not?”

  “Card games are played there.”

  “That wasn’t the only games being played there, Princess.” His thumb moved along the inside of my hip, causing my stomach to whoosh. “Penellaphe had a habit of sneaking out and exploring the city at night.”

  I nibbled on the inside of my lip as I tore my gaze from Casteel. Had he known how often I did that? He had said that he’d been watching me for longer than I realized.

  “What I know of the Maiden—and, yes, Casteel, I know she’s no longer the Maiden, but that was what she was,” he added before Casteel could correct him. “The Ascensions of the others were tied to yours, weren’t they? And again, I am sorry that you were raised in such a web of lies told by the Ascended.”

  Several at the table cursed at the mention of the Ascended.

  “Thank you. And yes, you’re right.” I frowned slightly. “Or they were. I don’t know if their Ascensions will be carried out now.”

  “Hopefully, they won’t,” Delano remarked.

  “I agree,” I said quietly, thinking of Ian.

  “Do you?” Alastir asked. “Truly?”

  “I do,” I admitted. “I didn’t know who or what the Ascended really were. I, like most people within the Kingdom of Solis, only knew what I was shown.”

  “Then I expect many are blind to what is right in front of them,” someone commented, a younger man with rich brown hair toward the end of the table.

  “Many live in fear of being ripped apart by the Craven or displeasing the Ascended and angering the gods,” I replied. Casteel’s arm tightened around my waist, his hand squeezing my hip gently. Was that some sort of message? I had no idea, nor did I care. The people of Solis were victims just as much as the Atlantians were. “Many are also more worried about providing for their families and keeping them safe than they are about questioning what the Ascended tell them.”

  “Are they so distracted by their daily struggles that they don’t question handing over their children to the Court or to gods they’ve never seen?” Alastir asked. “Or are they just that submissive?”

  “I wouldn’t confuse submission for distraction, and I wouldn’t mistake obedience for stupidity when it’s apparent that you know very little about the people of Solis,” I stated coolly.

  Alastir’s gaze swung to mine.

  “What they have been told about the Atlantians, about the gods and the Craven, is all they know. Generation after generation, they’re taught to believe in the Rite and how much of an honor it is for their third sons and daughters to serve the gods. Raised to believe that only the Ascended and the gods stand between them and the Craven. I was raised the same way.” I leaned forward, a little surprised to find that Casteel didn’t stop me. “The gods belong to the people of Atlantia, do they not? Do your people believe in them even though they’ve never seen them?”

  Silence fell around the table.

  It was Kieran who answered. “The gods have slept for hundreds of years, and only the oldest among the Atlantians can remember seeing them. But we believe in them nonetheless.”

  I smiled tightly. “Just as the people of Solis believe in them.”

  “But not everyone within Solis follows King Jalara and Queen Ileana,” Alastir pointed out. “There are many who have seen the truth, who support Atlantia.”

  “You’re right. The Descenters.” I exhaled slowly. “I know I’ve had my suspicions throughout my life. I’m sure many others have, as well, but for whatever reason, their eyes haven’t been fully opened. I imagine a lot of that has to do with the stability of what one knows, even if it isn’t comfortable. And I suppose a lot has to do with fear of acknowledging what is truly around us, what it means for us and those we care for.”

  Alastir leaned back, eyeing me. “It’s admirable.”

  “What is?”

  “Your utter lack of fear when speaking to me—talking to any of us—when you know what we are,” he said. “What we are capable of.”

  I met his stare. “I’m not foolish enough to not feel fear when I know that any of you could kill me before I even have a chance to take my last breath. But fearing what you’re capable of doesn’t mean I fear you.”

  Casteel leaned in, his voice in my ear. “Still so incredibly brave,” he murmured, and that inexplicable warming returned to my chest.

  “I like her,” Alastir said to Casteel after a heartbeat, and I thought he might actually mean that. Then, I did what Kieran had suggested. I used my abilities once more. My senses stretched out, connecting to Alastir. I didn’t sense anger from him, but there was the tanginess I often associated with sadness. I wasn’t sure what could’ve evoked that response, but I thought he was being honest.

  “But back to how you and the Prince met at this…unique establishment. How was that possible?” Alastir’s fingers tapped idly on the table, and I swore there was a collective sigh of relief that the topic had moved on. “With the Ascensions being tied to you, I was under the impression that you were well guarded and kept…” He trailed off as if he searched for the right word to use.

  “Sheltered?” I suggested. “Caged? I was. For the most part,” I added. “I wasn’t permitted to travel freely, only allowed to leave my room with one of my guards or my companion, and that was only to attend classes with the Priestess or to walk the castle grounds during certain times.”

  Emil stopped, his cup halfway to his mouth, his brows knitting together. His eyes were a vibrant gold. “And the rest of the time, you were expected to remain in your room? Even for meals?”

  I nodded.

  The Atlantian looked stunned, and someone murmured under their breath.

  “But you found a way to sneak out. I imagine that’s extremely risky behavior. Someone could’ve taken you at any time during those explorations,” Alastir pointed out.

  What I felt from him was…more guarded than a few moments before, but I still didn’t detect the acidic burn of anger or hatred. If anything, he was more reserved then the last time we’d spoken, as was I.

  “Someone did take her. Obviously,” Casteel spoke up then, his thumb now tracing a distractingly slow, steady circle.

  “Ah, yes, you did take her.” Alastir inclined his chin. “B
ut do you really intend to keep her?”

  Chapter 12

  “I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t plan on keeping her.”

  My hearing had to be faulty. Keep me? As if I were some sort of pet? Placing my hand over his as I fixed a smile on my face, I dug my nails into his flesh.

  Casteel’s thumb didn’t miss a single sweep along my inner hip. “I can’t help myself.” His lips brushed my cheek, and it took everything in me not to elbow him in the throat. “Penellaphe intrigued me from the first moment I spoke to her.”

  Intrigued. That word again.

  “I can see why.” Alastir tilted his head. “She’s utterly unique, and most likely not what one would expect from the Maiden.”

  “She is unique and brave, intelligent and beautiful,” Casteel agreed, apparently no longer content to drive me out of my mind with just his thumb. His fingers were involved now, sliding out from his palm and then gliding back. “And completely unexpected. But she is not the Maiden, Alastir.” His chin grazed my shoulder as he turned his head to the wolven. “And if you refer to her as the Maiden one more time, we are going to have a problem. Understand?”

  This time, when my muscles tensed, it was in response to his words.

  “Understood,” Alastir murmured.

  “Good.” Casteel’s chin drifted over the curve of my jaw as he sat back.

  Alastir was quiet for a moment, and then he addressed the men. “Make sure the horses are ready for when we check the roads.”

  Everyone at the table rose—everyone but Delano and Naill. Those two remained even after Alastir flicked a pointed look in their direction.

  “If I called those men back, they would heed my summons,” Casteel began, his fingers still sliding along my waist and hip. “And those who remain will only leave this table once I command it.”

  Alastir faced Casteel. “I know this.”

  “Glad to hear that, because for a moment there, I thought you might have forgotten who commands whom here.”

  A shiver tiptoed down my spine, a reminder of whose lap I sat in. This was not Hawke. He was the Prince of a kingdom, and he would not be disobeyed.