The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)
I hated it with every fiber of my being.
But what I wore would serve a purpose. I was not the Queen any mortal would recognize. The gilded crown meant nothing to them.
The white of the Maiden did.
“How you imagined the Maiden looked?” I finished for him. “Except, normally, I wore a veil instead of armor and…” My cheeks warmed again. “And not nearly as many weapons.”
He gave a quick shake of his head, causing a strand of hair to slip free from the knot he’d tied the rest back in. It fell across his cheek. “I was going to say you look like one of my favorite paintings.”
“Oh.” I shifted a bit awkwardly.
“Of the goddess, Lailah, to be exact. Not in physical appearance, but the armor and straight spine. The strength. There’s actually a painting in the palace. Not sure if you had a chance to see it, but it’s of the Goddess of Peace and Vengeance. She wore white armor.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“I think you would like it.”
I couldn’t help but think of Casteel and what he would think if he saw me like this. He would approve of the weapons. Greatly. The gown?
He’d probably tear it off and set it afire.
Thoughts of Casteel made me think of the dream—and what it could mean. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Ask away.”
“Kieran thought you may know if it’s possible for heartmates to walk in each other’s dreams.”
“I remember reading something that made that claim. They actually called it…” Valyn’s brow creased. “Soul walking. Not dream walking. Said that the souls could find each other, even in dreams.” His expression smoothed out. “Did something like that happen?”
It took everything in me not to allow the dream to form in any sort of detail. “I had a dream that was incredibly vivid. It didn’t feel like a normal dream, and I think Casteel realized it was different, too, right before I woke up. I mean, I could be wrong, and it could’ve just been a dream.”
“I think it’s exactly what you believe. Soul walking between heartmates,” he said. “My son said he believed you were his heartmate—not that he needed to tell me that. I saw it for myself after the attack at the Chambers of Nyktos when he awoke to find that you’d been taken. I saw it in your eyes and heard it in your voice when you spoke of your plans to go to Carsodonia. You two have found something so very few ever experience.”
“We have,” I whispered, my throat tightening.
Valyn smiled, but the faint lines of his face seemed deeper as he let out a rough breath. “I passed Kieran on the way to see you,” Valyn stated, much to my relief. “I could tell he worried about why I wanted to speak with you. Other than his family, the only other person I’ve ever seen him this loyal to is Casteel. And that kind of loyalty goes beyond any sort of bond—even a Primal notam.” He turned his head toward me, his golden eyes sheltered. “He’s good for you. For both of you.”
“I know.” I opened my senses to Valyn and brushed up against what reminded me of a Rise. The urge to find the cracks I knew had to be in his shields hit me again. Reaching for the pouch at my hip instead of the ring, I squeezed the toy horse and pushed past the need. “If you’re here to try to convince me not to go to Carsodonia, I…I appreciate your concern—more than you probably realize,” I admitted. “But I have to do this.”
“I wish there was something I could say that would change your mind, but you’re stubborn. Like my son. Like both my sons.” He touched the back of a chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Of course, not.” I moved to the seat across from him and sat in the thick, upholstered chair.
“Thank you.” The armor creaked as he lowered, stretching out his right leg. “I know I can’t change your mind, but I’m worried. A lot can happen. A lot can go wrong. If we lose you in addition to them—”
“They’re not lost. We know where they are. I’m going to find them,” I told him. “And maybe Malik is—” I drew in a deep breath, squeezing the horse again. “Maybe Malik is lost to us. But Casteel isn’t. I will get him back, and I will do as you asked before if necessary.”
A ragged breath left him, and he appeared to take a few moments to collect himself.
Slowly, I extended my left hand and showed him my palm—my marriage imprint. “He’s alive. Sometimes, I need to be reminded of that,” I whispered. “He lives.”
Valyn stared at my hand for what felt like a small eternity, then his eyes briefly closed. I’d kept my senses open, and for a moment, I picked up on something from him—something that reminded me of the sour green mangos that Tawny had enjoyed with breakfast every so often. Was it guilt? Shame? It was too brief to know for sure.