A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “I’m sure many things in these woods are the subject of such tales, but there is only one tale I’m interested in hearing.” Using his arm around my waist to tug me back against him, his voice was just above my ear as he added, “And that is why you’re suddenly as quiet as a ghost.”

  “Do you need to hold me this tightly to ask that question?” I snapped.

  He chuckled. “There she is—my Princess.”

  “I’ve been here this whole time, and I’m not your Princess.”

  “Technically, you are my Princess, and no, you haven’t been here the whole time,” he replied. “The Poppy I know isn’t quiet and meek. At least not the one without the veil.”

  I stared ahead mutinously as his observation struck too close to home for comfort.

  “And this Poppy, the one who says nothing, only showed up this morning,” he went on. “You say it’s not because you chose to be the one who ended that bastard Ascended’s life. I know you well enough to believe that.”

  “I don’t know why you think you know me so well,” I retorted, even though he did know more about me than anyone, including Vikter, Tawny, and my brother.

  “I know that you did what you felt was right and that is the end of that. You’re not one to wallow in your choices,” he said, and he was right. Ugh. “You said it wasn’t because of last night, and I’m inclined to believe that to be the truth.”

  “If I said I didn’t care what you believe, would it make a difference and force you to be quiet?”

  “No.”

  I sighed.

  “I’m a wagering sort of man, so I’m willing to bet it has everything to do with our understanding.”

  Irritation flared hotly. Why did he have to be so observant? It was annoying.

  “So, instead of telling me nothing is wrong, I’m hoping you’ll be honest with me.”

  “I’m hoping that hawk returns, and instead of snatching up poor helpless animals and children, it grabs you.”

  Casteel laughed, the sound rumbling through me. I knew if I turned around, I would see the hint of fangs and those damn dimples. “I fear that your hopes will go unanswered.”

  “As per usual,” I muttered.

  He ignored that. “I’m not going to let this go, and you of all people should know that I’m persistent when I want something.”

  A shiver curled down my spine, and the hand that had ended up between the folds of my cloak at some point during the journey, slid from my hip to my stomach. Swallowing hard, I ordered myself to think of anything that didn’t involve his hand and how low it sat on my belly.

  “Talk to me, Poppy,” he whispered near my ear as his fingers began to move. Every cell in my body seemed to focus on those digits. “Please?”

  Please.

  The soft request caught me off guard. It was so rare to hear that word pass his lips, even before his identity had been revealed. I gave a small shake of my head. “I…I don’t know how to act.”

  He angled his head so he could look at me. “What do you mean?”

  His fingers were still moving, tracing circles that swept above my navel and then below. My face felt hot, and I wasn’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or the slow, lazy pace of his movements, which reminded me too much of those dark, early morning hours. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave in a way that will convince others that we’re…together.”

  His fingers halted for a heartbeat and then started moving once more. “You just need to be yourself, Poppy.”

  That sounded easier said than done. “Being myself would likely mean arguing with you constantly—”

  “And threatening to stab me,” he interjected. “I know.”

  “How is me threatening to stab you going to convince anyone that this engagement is real?”

  “I’ll admit, that would lead the average person to believe there were no fond feelings between us, but no one would believe that I would choose a submissive Maiden over my brother. They’d expect me to fall for someone as fiery as she is kind, brave…even to a fault. Someone who pushes back.” His fingers now moved up and down in a straight line, but for once, his words were far more distracting. “They’d expect someone like you, to be honest. Not the veiled Maiden. That is not who you are.”

  Unsettled by what he’d said, my grip tightened on the pommel. “You’re right. I’m not the veiled Maiden. Not anymore, but I…” My gaze lifted to the strip of gray sky. “It’s what I’m used to, I guess. I’m not used to this.”

  “I imagine you’re not used to any of this, and I don’t mean the whole being kidnapped part.”

  A wry grin twisted my lips. “All of this is new. The lack of the veil and being allowed to speak whenever I want, to whomever I want. Or being able to use my abilities and not hide them. I can’t even remember the last time I ate supper at a table with more than just one or two people. I’m not used to being in a room full of individuals, being the center of attention, yet somehow still invisible to them. I…” I trailed off before I admitted what had found its way to the surface. I wasn’t sure if even I knew who I was without the veil and all its limitations, because even though there were still rules, new ones to follow, this was unlike anything before. “I guess what I was like as the Maiden—”

  “What you were forced to be like as the Maiden,” he corrected softly.

  I nodded. “I guess it’s what I’m comfortable with when I don’t know what’s expected of me. And silence—docility—was always expected.”

  “But was it easy?”

  The sweep of his fingers, drifting even lower, snagged my attention, sending a flash of molten heat through me and causing me to wonder if I had the foresight to set boundaries with this whole agreement. Surely, what he was doing with his hand wouldn’t convince anyone of our relationship since it was hidden beneath the cloak.

  “Princess?” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear.

  I exhaled shakily, hoping that what Kieran had said about Casteel and a wolven’s ability to scent desire was grossly exaggerated. “I…I often wanted to scream—just scream for no good reason, in the middle of the Great Hall during the City Council meetings. I would’ve loved to have screamed right in Priestess Analia’s face.”

  He barked out a short, rough laugh. “I would’ve expected a far more violent desire when it came to that bitch. And I still don’t use that word often, yet I use it proudly when it comes to her.”

  I grinned, feeling a savage joy at seeing the Priestess’s eyes widen when Hawke had put her in her place. “And I…I hated just standing there and listening to the Duke get upset because I didn’t walk quietly enough—”

  “He seriously lectured you about that?”

  “Yes.” I laughed, but there was nothing funny about any of this. “He’d lecture me about anything. Find any reason for a lesson. Not standing straight enough. Being too quiet. Not speaking quickly enough when spoken to—when I was allowed to respond, which was everchanging. I…” I shook my head. “I wanted to scream in his face—no, that’s not true. I wanted to punch him. Often. With my fists.” I paused. “With a dagger.”

  Casteel was silent for a moment. “How did you deal with him? That’s something I can’t wrap my head around. You’re not weak. You’re not a pushover. That’s inherently the opposite of who you are. How did you never push back?”

  I stiffened, feeling shame creep in. “I couldn’t.”

  “I know that,” he immediately reassured. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you could have. You were trapped. Just like I was, and if anyone thinks you should have, then they have never been in a position where they had to do anything to survive.”

  I relaxed a little. “I just…you know, it took a couple of times for me to learn how to disassociate from it. I would be there, but I would think of something—anything—else. Sometimes, I thought about all the ways I would one day pay him back for every foul thing he did or said. Other times, I imagined training with Vikter. When it was too hard to focus, I just counted. I wou
ld count as high as I could.”

  He seemed to have stopped breathing. “I’m glad I killed him.”

  “Me, too.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, it wasn’t always easy, but sometimes, it was…easier to just do what they wanted, to be what they expected. I know that sounds terrible.”

  “Maybe to those who’ve never survived a cane to the skin for no reason.” His voice had hardened. “We all do what we need to survive. I did countless things I never thought I would do,” he admitted freely without an ounce of shame. And I…

  I envied that, but our situations were different. His was a matter of survival, life and death. Mine was not that. “But I think choosing the easier path is why I ignored my suspicions about the Ascended, or at least, it helped to dismiss them.”

  “I don’t think you were alone in choosing that path. I’m sure many others in Solis have shared your suspicions, but it was easier to look past them, even if that meant suffering or sacrifice.”

  I nodded. “Because the alternative would be the upending of everything you believe to be true. And not only that, it comes with the realization of the part you played. At least for me, it does. I was toted out to the people, put on display to remind everyone that the gods could choose anyone—that they too could be Blessed one day. And I always knew I wasn’t Chosen,” I whispered the last part, my chest heavy. “But I went along with it. And the whole time, they were stealing children to feed on. Taking good people and turning them into monsters. The easier choice I made too often didn’t make me a part of the problem.”

  Casteel said nothing, but his fingers still moved idly.

  “It made me a part of the system that bound an entire kingdom in chains created of fear and false beliefs.” I turned my cheek toward him. “You know that’s true.”

  “Yes.” His breath danced along the corner of my lips. “It is true.”

  I lowered my gaze to the hardened soil of the road.

  “But you know what else is true? Right now, you are destroying an intricate section of the system that has chained an entire kingdom for hundreds of years,” he added. “You should never forget that you were once an accessory, but you also shouldn’t forget what you are now a part of.”

  I looked forward, at the narrow road ahead and the snow-heavy needles. “But does the present really make amends for the past?”

  Casteel didn’t answer immediately. “Who is the judge of that? The gods? They sleep. Society? How can they make decisions unbiasedly when they are prejudiced by their own sins?” he questioned, and I had no answer. “Let me ask you this. Do you blame Vikter?”

  I frowned. “For what?”

  “He was like a father to you, Poppy. He had to know how much you struggled with the whole Maiden thing. Even if he didn’t realize how much you struggled, he had to have seen it.”

  The last conversation I’d had with Vikter, right before the attack at the Rite, had been about how I truly felt being the Maiden.

  “And he knew what the Duke was doing to you, didn’t he? But he didn’t stop it,” he added quietly.

  I craned my head to the side. “What could he have done? If he spoke one word or intervened, he would’ve been fired and ostracized, and that is a fate close to a death sentence. Or, he would’ve been killed. And then I wouldn’t have been trained. I never would’ve learned how to defend myself. Vikter did everything he could,” I defended vehemently. “Just like my mother and father did the night they were killed.”

  “But one could argue that the right thing would’ve been to intervene. To stop the Duke from hurting you,” he said. “And I know I’m not one to talk about doing the right thing, but he could’ve chosen the more difficult path. Either way, you don’t hold it against him. And if you did, you’ve forgiven him, right?”

  Heart aching, I faced forward. “There was nothing to forgive. But he…you heard what he said to me before he died.”

  “He apologized for failing you,” Casteel confirmed.

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes. His last words ever spoken were brutal. I hadn’t regretted what I’d said to him before the attack, but now? Now, I wished I hadn’t spoken so freely. I would do anything for Vikter to have died feeling as if he’d done right by me. And he had done just that to the best of his ability. He was the reason I could hold a sword and fire an arrow, fight with my hands and my mind.

  “I think Vikter knew that you never held his inaction against him, but whether or not he believed he’d done all that he could was up to him,” Casteel continued softly. “I think it comes down to whether you can make amends with yourself.”

  I saw the point he was making, but I didn’t know if anything I did from this moment on would be enough to erase being a silent party to the Ascended.

  “In the meantime, while you try to figure out if you can make amends with yourself, it helps to find someone to blame. And in your case—and Vikter’s—blame can be shared.”

  “With the Ascended?” I surmised.

  “Do you not agree?”

  The Ascended created the system Vikter and I and everyone else became a part of, unintentionally reinforced, and ultimately became victims of in different ways. My mother hadn’t been able to defend herself or me because of the limitations the Ascended placed upon women. Families handed over their children to the Court or to the Temples because the Ascended taught them it was the only way to appease the gods and then used the very monsters they created to reinforce those fears. Mr. Tulis made the choice to shove a knife deep inside me, but the kingdom the Ascended created was what drove him to that. Vikter could never speak against the Duke without repercussions that would’ve either had him removed from my life completely or ended his. And I…

  I had my freedom stripped from me and was kept so sheltered that I could turn to no one with my suspicions. And the Queen, she who cared for me so tenderly, was the foundation of that system. There was no denying that. Nor was there any denying that the system would only strengthen and grow unless access to the Atlantians was cut off. Even without the ability to make more Ascended, they would still be strong if they remained in control. If Casteel’s father did not go to war against them.

  But war was never one-sided. Casualties always piled up on both sides, and the losses were always the greatest among the most innocent. Many of those who would be free if Atlantia went to war with Solis would die before they even realized how much they’d been chained.

  “Yes. They are to blame,” I said finally, raggedly. I had no idea how we strayed so far off topic. Brushing a stray piece of hair back from my face, I cleared my throat. “So, there is your answer to why I’ve been quiet. If I’d known that insulting and threatening you would convince others of our agreement, I would’ve pulled a knife on you this morning in the banquet hall.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, squeezing me. “But if I may make a suggestion? I would stop calling our engagement an agreement or understanding. That sounds entirely too business-like. As if we’re discussing the trade of milk cows.”

  “But isn’t that what this is?”

  “I would say that what we have is a very intimate agreement. So, no.”

  “What we have is simply an impersonal agreement and nothing more.”

  “Impersonal? Is that so?” His hand drifted lower, over the flap of buttons on my pants.

  My breath hitched. “Yes.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  “Interesting. It didn’t seem impersonal last night,” he murmured, and then caught the lobe of my ear between his teeth. I gasped, my eyes wide as the little nip set fire to my blood. Slowly freeing the sensitive flesh, he chuckled as his lips touched the space behind my ear, and then I felt the indecent thrill of his sharp teeth dragging over the skin of my throat.

  For a moment, all thoughts scattered. My boiling blood roared in my ears, through my body, tightening my breasts and settling between my legs, where his fingers ventured dangerously close. They made those tiny circles
that tugged at the seam of my pants, rubbing it against my very center. My back arched without thought, and a hidden, reckless part of me wished I could will those fingers lower—

  “And now?” he repeated. “Sure doesn’t feel impersonal.”

  I reacted without thought, slamming my elbow into his stomach. Casteel grunted out a curse.

  “Please don’t fight atop the horse,” Delano called out from somewhere behind us. “None of us wish to watch Setti trample either of you.”

  “Speak for yourself,” came Kieran’s droll voice.

  Casteel straightened behind me. “Don’t worry. Neither of us will fall. It was just a love tap.”

  “That did not look like a love tap,” Naill commented.

  “That’s because it was a very passionate one,” Casteel replied.

  “You’re about to get a love tap to your face,” I muttered under my breath.

  Casteel curled his arm more firmly around my waist as he laughed. “There’s the vicious little creature. I missed her.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  He leaned into me, lowering his voice once more. “Back to the original subject at hand, our engagement is far more believable when you’re hitting me than when you’re standing by quietly.”

  My brows snapped together. “That sounds like a very dysfunctional…engagement.”

  “You can’t spell dysfunctional without fun, now can you?”

  “That…I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  “My point is that you just need to be yourself, Princess. Couples argue. They fight. Most don’t go around stabbing or punching the other—”

  “Most don’t start off being lied to or kidnapped,” I interrupted.

  “True, which has led to the stabbing and punching, but people who are in love enough to marry—the ones that people know are together before they even realize it—never consist of just one person, one personality, or one will. They fight. They argue. They disagree. They make up. They talk. They agree. The one thing they never are is perfect.”

  “Are you telling me that the key is for us to fight and make up?” I asked, because there was no way anyone could look at us, see the way we behaved toward each other, and think we were madly in love. They probably thought we were insane.