A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash 2)

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.

“If you don’t wish to step back and remove yourself from this situation, then you can’t let it show that their feelings are getting to you. You can’t let Casteel know, lest we have another Landell situation on our hands,” he continued. “I don’t know for sure what he feels for you, but one thing is evident. He will act upon any perceived insult to your honor. There is power there, Penellaphe. You are the neck that turns the head of the kingdom.”

I stared at him.

“I’m sorry. You probably don’t understand any of that. You weren’t prepared for this. That’s not your fault,” he said, and yet, it sort of felt like it was. “None of this is. His engagement to you is utterly unexpected.”

“I’m sure their dislike of me has more to do with who I was and not that I’m marrying their Prince.” I thought about that. “Or it’s an equal combination of the two.”

“That, and they have all heard that he originally planned to use you for ransom. They don’t understand how love has blossomed from that. Neither do I, even after his claims of love.”

“Stranger things have happened,” I muttered as Casteel moved toward the entryway just as the door opened. A tall man walked in, black ink swirling over the swarthy skin of both arms, all the way up to his shoulders. His hair was shaggy, a silvery hue that had nothing to do with his age. There were only faint lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled upon seeing Casteel.

“I’m sure they have,” Alastir said, lowering his voice as Casteel clasped hands with the silvery-haired man. Was that Jasper? He was too far away for me to see his eyes. “But I’ve known him his entire life. More importantly, I’ve seen him in love, Penellaphe.”

By an act of sheer will, I kept my face blank as I looked at Alastir. I couldn’t…I couldn’t believe he’d said that. But all I felt from him was concern.

“They were expecting someone else as their Princess,” he went on. “It’s not just you.”

“Someone who was not the Maiden?” I surmised.

“Well, of course. But as you know, he was expected to marry upon his return—” He snapped his mouth shut as his brows lowered. “He didn’t tell you?”

A strange thumping started in my body. “Didn’t tell me what?” Alastir started to look away, but I grabbed his arm. “Didn’t tell me what?” I demanded.

“Good gods, that idiotic boy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I felt the flare of annoyance in him. “One of these days, I will learn to keep my mouth shut.”

I sure hoped not, since it was clear there was a lot I’d never hear if it weren’t for him.