The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and Ash 3)

Once we passed, I looked back at Casteel. But before I could ask the same question as I had nearly every time we passed someone yesterday when I couldn’t tell if they were of Atlantian descent or one of the bloodlines, Casteel beat me to it. “Both were Atlantian,” he said, his thumb resuming the slow and utterly distracting circles. “The first were of Atlantian descent. Mortals. The last two were elemental.”

“Oh,” I whispered, focusing ahead. Atlantians had always been cooler toward me, with a few exceptions like Emil, Naill, and Elijah. My heart squeezed painfully as I thought of Elijah and Magda—of all those Atlantians, Descenters, and wolven senselessly murdered by the Ascended. Even then, I could hear Elijah’s deep belly laugh.

But yesterday, the vast majority of those we came across had been warm and welcoming, just like the ones we passed now. Could it be that those of like mind as the Unseen were truly a small fraction of the populace? Just as a tiny kernel of real hope formed in my chest, Casteel’s arm tightened around me.

Sometimes, I wondered if he knew where my thoughts had gone, which made me think of something else. “Do you have a changeling in your bloodline, Cas?”

“Not sure, but I can tell you something’s changing in my pants right now,” he murmured.

“Oh, my gods.” I barked out a loud laugh as several of the nearby wolven made rough, huffing sounds. “That was so...”

“Witty?” he suggested, while Kieran snorted.

“Stupid,” I said, biting down on my lip as a giggle snuck free. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Neither can I,” Kieran agreed, shaking his head. “But the Da’Neer bloodline is purer than his thoughts.”

I grinned as we passed small groups of people heading in and out of the narrow roads.

“It’s not my fault my thoughts are less than innocent,” Casteel countered, waving as someone stopped to bow. “I didn’t introduce myself to the world of Miss Willa.”

“Oh, my gods,” I grumbled, half-distracted by my attempts to read the emotions of those we passed.

“To be honest,” he continued, “I think I was more shocked about the fact that I was right, and she is Atlantian, than by anything else your father said.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I muttered.

Casteel laughed, and as we continued on, the nervousness from earlier returned. But then he handed over Setti’s reins and let me control and guide the horse. Eventually, the trees cleared, giving way to lush green grass that flowed to the very bluffs overlooking the sea. Ahead of us, a hedge of sorts surrounded a large circular Temple set on a high podium, its white columns rising against the deep blue of the sky. Beyond it, a row of lavender-colored, trumpet-shaped blossoms of jacaranda trees struck a familiar chord inside me. I’d loved the trees that grew abundantly around the garden outside Castle Teerman. They made me think of Rylan, a guard of mine who’d been killed by Jericho—a wolven who had been working with Casteel. A heaviness settled in my chest. Rylan hadn’t deserved to die like that.

And Casteel hadn’t deserved everything that had been done to him.

Two wrongs never made things right or better, nor did they cancel one another out. They just were.

All thoughts about what I’d done on the road here faded to the background as the wolven appeared at our sides as we rode past the Temple and under the shade of the mildly honey-scented jacaranda trees. I could see a garden of sorts through the hedge, one that must’ve opened to the Temple. The other end flowed to an elegant building of limestone and marble. Gold scroll accents were painted around open windows where gauzy white curtains swayed in the salty breeze from the sea. The center was a wide structure with numerous windows and doors, several stories tall, with a domed glass ceiling and spires that I’d seen upon my arrival. Sweeping, two-story wings connected by vine-covered breezeways flanked each side. Balconies jutted from the second floors, the curtains swept to the sides and cinched to pillars. Underneath, private verandas separated by walls covered by ivy and tiny pale blue blossoms rested. The Cove Palace wasn’t half the size or nearly as tall as Castle Teerman and would be dwarfed by Wayfair Castle, where the Queen and King of Solis resided. But it was beautiful, nonetheless.

Behind me, Casteel had stiffened. “The guards are new,” he said to Kieran.

Guards weren’t usually posted at the entrances to where the King and Queen were currently staying?

“That they are.” Kieran drew his horse closer to ours as he eyed the guards. “But not entirely a surprise.”

“No, they are not,” Casteel agreed.

The guards bowed deeply, but they watched the wolven with wary gazes. Suspicion tinged with curiosity radiated from them as we rode through the breezeway. I didn’t pick up on any outright hostility as I guided Setti past them, but they were definitely watchful as we entered the courtyard where a tiered fountain gurgled water. Crimson roses climbed the basin, scenting the air as we dismounted from the horses. Several stable hands appeared, taking the reins.