And yet, Ash was pretty confident that it hadn’t been them.
Looking down at my hand, I drew my finger along a shimmering whirl. Had it been the embers? Or had it beenme? Either way, it seemed a little…self-indulgent to favor one’s own union.
“It won’t rub off,” Ash commented under his breath.
My finger ceased moving as I glanced over at him. He was watching the Primal with the crown of ruby antlers. Hanan. He stood with Kyn. Both appeared as if they were one refill away from being highly intoxicated. It was likely that I, too, would end up that way if I continued drinking instead of eating. In my defense, it was quite difficult to stuff my face at a table that had been prepared on the dais, in plain view of the thousands of people in attendance.
Meanwhile, Aios sat with several masked guests behind the dais. I would’ve preferred that.
“I’m not trying to rub it off,” I said, watching Kyn once more. What had Attes told him about the young draken, Thad? I’d learned that morning that he’d been brought to the Shadowlands and was currently in the mountains. “I just can’t stop touching it.”
“Hopefully, you’ll get used to it,” he told me. “The only way it fades is upon death, and I don’t plan on that occurring.”
I blinked as I closed my hand. “What if we decided to no longer continue this union?”
“Honestly?” He looked over at me, his brows pinched. A moment passed. “Not sure. None who’ve borne the imprint chose to separate.”
I wondered if he was thinking about the deal I’d struck with him—the bid for my freedom. But that was before I realized that I was…in love with him. Now, I wasn’t sure what to think about the deal we’d struck. Being done with him didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a different kind of prison. I shook my head, telling myself there would be time later to dwell on all of that. “Are others with the imprint still alive?”
Ash shook his head. “Those my father blessed no longer live.”
A chill crawled down my spine. I didn’t have to ask. I knew. Kolis. Killing those his brother had favored for whatever reason sounded like Kolis’s particular brand of childish cruelty for the sake of cruelty.
But didn’t that make the imprint feel like a bit of an omen? I slipped my inked hand beneath the table to my lap as I looked out over the revelers. Ash had already pointed out the Primals I hadn’t recognized.
Maia. The Primal Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility was just as she’d always been depicted. Full-figured and utterly stunning, her warm blond hair cascaded down her back in thick curls and framed yellowish-brown skin. Her pearl crown was one of roses and scalloped shells. She was fascinating to watch. Every move she made, every smile and flicker of her gaze, carried an air of softness and a hint of spice. I couldn’t see her now, as she was almost constantly surrounded.
I’d recognized Phanos, but it would be hard to miss him in the crowd. He was taller than all other Primals, possibly even Ash, and bore a crown shaped like a trident. He stood at least half a foot above all others, his bald head a burnt umber under the glow of the string lights. I’d tensed when I saw him briefly speaking to Saion and Rhahar, but no one else seemed that concerned, and he’d eventually walked off with the Primal of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty.
Embris reminded me of a hawk—a quiet, watchful man despite the mop of curly brown hair lending a boyish quality to his features. His bronze crown… disturbed me, having been molded into olive branches and what appeared to beserpents. Embris had left. Or at least I thought he had, as I hadn’t seen him or Phanos in a while. Ash didn’t seem surprised by their quick departure as, according to him, they had done what was expected of them by showing and had no reason to linger.
My heart skipped as my attention shifted to the Primal who had smiled at me. I hadn’t seen the striking Primal in the crowd again until then. “Who is that?”
Ash followed my gaze. “Keella.”
The Primal of Rebirth, who had helped Eythos. I watched her as she sat quietly while several attendees spoke with her, a welcoming—if reserved—smile on her face. Out of all the Primals here, she was the one I wanted to speak to.
But she hadn’t approached the dais. None of the Primals or anyone other than those who worked closely with Ash had. I figured that had something to do with Nektas, who remained in his draken form and took up nearly all the space on the dais as he watched those below as if he wasn’t above biting off an arm or two.
“Do you think she knows?” I murmured. Ash leaned in closer to me. “About me—about what your father eventually did with the soul?”
Ash didn’t answer for a long moment. “Did you know that when a babe dies, their soul is reborn?”
I turned my head to him. “No.”
He nodded, his gaze flicking to Keella. “They’re the only souls that do not pass into the Shadowlands. Keella captures them and sends them back.”
My stare drifted back to her. “So, they are reincarnated?”
“No.” He shook his head as his fingers drummed the surface of the table. “Not in the sense of how reincarnation is understood. You see, a babe who dies as their first breath is taken hasn’t truly lived. They have no past or present to relive. Keella gives them arebirth. A chance to truly live.”
“Oh,” I whispered, my throat thickening at thefairnessof the act.
“She can see the soul of all those she captures. My father once said she sees them as her children and then often follows them throughout their lives.”
“Like a …” Air whooshed out of my lungs. “She capturedhersoul.”
He nodded. “I do not know if she could still follow that soul since it wasn’t a rebirth, but it is possible,” he told me, and I thought of her smile. “Kolis thought it was, but she never told him who carried Sotoria’s soul. If she had, Kolis wouldn’t still be looking for it.”