Fingers touched the other side of my cheek, and Kieran’s pale eyes locked with mine. “You are a descendant of the gods, Poppy. You run from no one and nothing.”
My breath caught as my gaze held Kieran’s and then shifted to Casteel. The center of my chest hummed. A heartbeat passed, and then I looked at the closed doors. It was okay to be nervous. Who wouldn’t be in my situation? But I wasn’t afraid.
Because they were right.
I was brave.
I was fearless.
And I ran from no one and nothing—and that included a crown.
My gaze flickered over the wolven, stopping on Vonetta. Exhaling slowly, I nodded. We turned to the doors as they opened to an area lit by the sun coming from the dome’s glass sides.
Rows of semicircular benches sat on either side of the aisle, offering enough seating for what had to be several thousand—possibly more. Above, a balcony area where even more people could attend jutted out, and under them stood ten statues of the gods, five on each side. They held unlit torches against their black stone chests. Ahead of us, the statue of who I could only assume was Nyktos stood in the center of the dais. Beyond him was another set of doors as large as the ones we’d entered through, where guards stood now. I recognized Hisa. The thrones sat before the statue of Nyktos.
They were both made of pearlescent shadowstone, streaked with thick veins of gold. Their shape fascinated me. The backs were circular and spiked, shaped like the sun and its rays, and at the center of the top, carved out of the same stone, was a sword and arrow crossing each other.
The current Queen and King of Atlantia stood beside their thrones, and as their son and I walked forward with the wolven trailing and spreading out among the rows of benches, I realized that both wore their crowns.
The crown upon the King’s head was twisted, bleached bone, but the one that sat upon the Queen’s head was golden, shining bone. I hadn’t seen the crown since the Chambers of Nyktos. Eloana and Valyn stood in silence as we approached them, Casteel’s mother’s hands clasped at her waist.
“Mother,” Casteel said as we stopped before the steps of the dais. Kieran and the others hung back several feet. “Father.”
“We are glad to see that you have both returned,” his father replied, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“Not without interruptions.” Casteel tilted his head. “We were accosted by members of the Unseen.”
“Were there any injuries?” his mother asked.
“No.” Casteel looked at me. “My wife made sure of that.”
“We all made sure of that,” I added.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” she said. “But it shouldn’t have happened.”
No, it shouldn’t have.
But it did.
“Arden arrived safely, I assume?” Casteel queried.
His father nodded. “Yes. He is resting in one of the rooms. All the wolven told us was that the meeting went well.”
“Your brother?” His mother’s gaze touched mine, the crown such a stark contrast to her dark hair. “Was he how you remembered?”
“He wasn’t,” I said. “And yet, he was. But he’s not like other Ascended.”
Her chest rose sharply behind the ivory gown she wore. “I don’t know if that is a good or a bad thing.”
“I don’t either,” I admitted.
“There must be much that you both need to share with us,” his father began, and I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. In the shadowy alcoves of the dais, several people stood. My senses stretched out, finding an array of emotions, everything from curiosity to faint distrust. “But we assume that you’re here to discuss more than your meeting with the Ascended.”
Irritation sparked at him referring to Ian as the Ascended even though he was…an Ascended. I could recognize the irrationality of that, but it still didn’t stop the burn of annoyance.
“You’re correct,” Casteel replied and then looked at me. Our gazes met. “We have come for more than that.”
I focused only on Casteel, not allowing myself to read his parents or the shadows standing in the alcoves. The taste of chocolate-dipped berries calmed my nerves, and the steadiness in his golden eyes eased the tension gathering in my neck.
I was brave.
I was fearless.
Squeezing Casteel’s hand, I turned back to his parents. “We have come to claim what is mine—the Crown and the kingdom.”
Chapter 36
Eloana unclasped her hands, letting them fall to her sides. A heavy breath left her, one I hoped was of relief or at the very least acceptance.
His father stepped forward. “And if we contest your claim?”
My head shot in his direction. “You can,” I said before Casteel had a chance to respond. “But it won’t change the inevitable.” Vonetta brushed against my leg as she prowled forward. Lyra had leapt onto one of the stone benches, and without looking, I knew the others had also moved in closer. I slipped my hand free of Casteel’s and stepped forward, looking at his father. “The only people I will ever know as my parents were killed to prevent this moment. I was left dead and scarred because of my birthright and forced to wear the veil because of my bloodline. My brother was Ascended because of it. I’ve had years of controlling my own life taken away from me. Innocent people have died because of what is owed to me. I almost died. And on the way here, we were attacked. None of that has stopped this moment from coming. The Crown belongs to me and my husband, and I believe you already know that.”