Placing a steadying hand on my lower back, Casteel guided me toward the rounded steps. A man dressed in a golden tunic stood at the door, bowing before opening both sides. My nervousness resurfaced with a vengeance as we entered a short hall that opened to a circular chamber. The last of the sunlight shone across the numerous rows of empty benches, and light spilled from electric-powered wall sconces inside alcoves on either side of the vast chamber. The space could easily accommodate several hundred, and I couldn’t help but notice how different this was from the Great Hall in Masadonia. There was little to no separation between where the people sat and the dais before them.
My eyes were trained on the white banners hanging on the back wall as Casteel led us to the left. In each banner’s center was an emblem embossed in gold, shaped like the sun and its rays. And at the center of the sun was a sword lying diagonally atop an arrow. It was then when I realized that the arrow and sword were not equally crossed. They met at the top instead of the middle, and I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed that before or why it stuck out to me now. But situated this way, the sword was actually longer, more prominent than the arrow.
“Has that always been the crest?” I asked.
Kieran shot me a quizzical look as we stopped before the banners. “You ask the most random things.”
Honestly, I did, so I couldn’t even muster up a retort.
“The crest can change with each ruler if they want.” Casteel glanced at the banners. “But it always contains the three symbols—the sun, the sword, and the arrow.”
“So this isn’t the one your mother and father chose?”
He shook his head. “I believe this was what King Malec chose,” he told me, and I was a little surprised to hear that his choice for a crest hadn’t changed.
“The sun represents Atlantia?” I surmised, eyeing the crest. “And, let me guess, the sword represents Malec, and the arrow your mother?”
“You would be right,” Casteel answered. “You don’t like it, do you?”
I shook my head.
“What about it don’t you like?”
“The sword and arrow aren’t equal,” I told him. “They should be equal.”
One side of his lips curved up. “Yeah, they should be.”
“They were equal at one time,” Kieran said, now looking up at the banners. “Before Malec, and when two deities sat on the thrones. I imagine the sword is more prominent because, technically, Malec was far stronger than Queen Eloana.” He sent Casteel an apologetic look. “No offense.”
“Technically or not, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” I said before Casteel could respond.
Kieran’s wintery gaze met mine. “If you take the Crown, many will expect the arrow to become more prominent, as you are more powerful than Cas.”
“If I take the Crown, the arrow and sword will be equal,” I returned. “A King and Queen should be of equal power, no matter what blood courses through their veins.”
The wolven grinned. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
I opened my mouth, but he brushed past me, walking along and leaving me staring at his back. “He’s annoying,” I muttered to Casteel.
“But he’s right.” Casteel looked down at me, his eyes like warm honey. “I would expect nothing less from you, either.”
I glanced back at the banners, thinking they needed to be changed, whether I took the Crown or not.
Pulling my gaze from the banners, we caught up with Kieran as we moved through a hall that opened to breezeways on either side and flowed straight into a large banquet hall. The table could seat an army, but it sat empty with only a vase of peonies in the center. We walked through a smaller room, one with a smaller, round table that appeared recently wiped down, and chairs with gray seat cushions. I caught a glimpse of my wide eyes in a mirror on the wall and quickly looked ahead. In front of us was a door, slightly ajar, and two Guards of the Crown. Both men bowed, and then one stepped aside as the other reached for the door.
The muted sounds of conversation drifted out of the room, and my heart skipped several beats. My steps slowed. What if Kirha was wrong? What if Casteel’s parents had only grown angrier after their shock faded? His father hadn’t been rude the night before, but we had only been in each other’s presence for mere minutes.
And I had thought he’d been about to use the sword on me. His father had known that, too.
I stared at the door, heart thrumming. Who could blame them if they never accepted me? I was an outsider, the former Maiden of the Ascended, who’d taken their son and was possibly on the verge of taking more than that.