Chapter Twenty-Seven #3
Women stood on the flattened land, at least a dozen of them, dressed like no woman would dare in Solis. Wearing black pants and sleeveless tunics, the sun glinted off the golden rings encircling their upper arms.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Them?” Casteel inclined his head toward the group. “Remember the women I told you about the night I found you on the battlements of the Rise?”
I did. “Women who could cut a man down without blinking an eye.”
“You failed to mention the other part.” He looked at me, a teasing smoke-filled smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “About being less magnificent—”
“I didn’t forget,” I cut him off. “I chose not to mention it.”
He chuckled, but before he could explain further, a mass of movement snagged my attention. Men dressed the same as the women poured out from the shadows of the surrounding trees, racing across the field. The women were vastly outnumbered. There had to be three to four times more men.
The women turned, all but one, who stood apart from the others, closest to the approaching men. A tall blonde, her hair pulled back in a thick braid. She was watching us, seemingly unaware of the behemoth of a man, larger than even Elijah, racing toward her, a golden sword raised—
She turned at the last second, my lips parting as she caught the man by the throat.
Letting out a long, wavering cry that was taken up by the other women, she drove the man down, slamming him into the ground.
Dirt exploded on impact, hanging in the air as she gripped his arm, twisting until he dropped his sword.
It seemed to fall into her waiting hand, and within a heartbeat, she had it pointed at his throat.
I looked out over the clearing, and only the women stood, each of them weaponless at the start, having disarmed the men. Now, they held swords or spears, pointed at the men’s throats or far more interesting areas.
“They are the kingdom’s elite, each one skilled and deadlier than the one before,” Casteel said, and I could feel his gaze on me. “They are the Guardians of the Atlantian armies.”
Unable to take my eyes off the women, I watched them extend their hands to the men. They helped them to their feet.
“They are the last of their bloodline, born into a long succession of warriors who will defend Atlantia to their last breath.”
“And they’re all women?”
“They are.”
The Guardians and the men took notice of our presence. The tall blonde stepped forward, placing her closed fist over her heart. The other women followed suit while the men bowed from their waists. Casteel acknowledged their gestures by placing his fist over his heart.
I was absolutely awestruck as Casteel nudged our horses around the edge of the field, grateful that he had control of Molly.
My eyes were still glued to the women as they handed the weapons back to the men.
I just…it was almost like I couldn’t believe what my eyes were telling me.
To grow up in a society where the sharpest object a woman was permitted to handle was a knitting needle, I was stunned.
And I was fascinated as one of the women showed a man a better way to grip the sword.
“They’re training them, aren’t they?” I asked.
“Yes,” Casteel answered. “The Guardians always train our warriors, here and beyond the Skotos.”
“So, there are more?” I watched a wolven with black and white fur prowl out from the pavilion, approaching the blonde. The wolven nearly reached her chest.
“There are about two hundred of them left,” he said as the Guardian smiled at that wolven. “But one of them is equal to twenty trained warriors.”
I finally dragged my awed gaze from them. “Do they have…unique abilities courtesy of their bloodline?”
“Only the females born within that bloodline. They are like elementals in terms of strength and mortality, and they do need blood.”
“Are any other warrior bloodlines still alive?” I asked as we entered the other side of the woods.
Casteel shook his head. “They are the only ones left.” He paused. “Besides you.”
Besides me.
It was strange to hear that, knowing I was descended from a line of warriors.
“I may not be the only one,” I said, and Casteel focused ahead.
“I know it’s unlikely that Ian is my full-blooded brother, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there that no one knows about, including the Ascended. ”
“That’s true, but I think it would be highly doubtful that any of them have gone undetected by this point.
” His gaze followed a sparrow as it flew across the path.
“Makes me think of the first Maiden—if she did exist—and how many more were potentially discovered that we will never know about. And it also makes me think about the time I was held by the Ascended. They always used mortals with Atlantian blood to feed me.”
I resisted the urge to reach out to him with my senses, already knowing what I would find.
“Some were young, just past maturity. Some were older, their hair gray and bodies already breaking down with age,” he said after a few moments.
“I tried to keep count of how many had been brought into my cage, but I…I wasn’t able to.
Even so, between Malik and me, I don’t know how there could be any more out there. ”
Ian had been the last to Ascend, and it had only been him.
Before that, it had been several years since the last Ascension.
Dread surged through me. Ascensions had been carried out annually for several years, but then they’d all but stopped when I was a child.
The implications of that brought forth the concern I’d had before. What if Malik was no longer alive?
Kieran and Casteel both believed that Malik lived, but there was no evidence of that. And I wanted to know if Casteel had truly considered that. I bit down on my lip.
“You look like you want to say something,” he observed.
I did, but how could I ask what I wanted? I didn’t think I should, so I said what I also believed I needed to say. “You did what you needed to do to survive. I hope you truly believe that.”
Casteel didn’t answer, and when I looked over at him and saw the vast emptiness in his expression, my heart ached. Because I knew.
I knew he didn’t.
And all I wanted in that moment was to bring warmth back to him. “I still want to stab you.”
His head shot in my direction.
“Just not as frequently,” I amended.
One side of his lips curled up, and then he laughed. The sound was rough and a little hoarse, but it was real. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
I looked forward, smiling. “That is such a weird statement.”
“What can I say? I have a thing for women with violent tendencies.”
“That doesn’t sound any better,” I said, even though I wondered if Shea had been that way. Prone to stabbing him when she was angry? I wasn’t so sure about that, considering what he’d said I deserved when this was all over. A relationship with no stabbing or punching. Or kidnapping.
I shoved those thoughts aside before they could weigh me down. We were pretending, and that meant there was no future, even if we couldn’t escape the past.
Luckily, a distraction arose a few moments later. Riding out of the wooded area, I finally saw what Casteel had built.
My grip loosened on the saddle as I took in a piece of Atlantia hidden away in Solis.
Stygian Bay glistened like the darkest hour of night to our right. Ahead of us was a town the size of New Haven. Yet again, I was struck speechless as we rode along the dirt road. I only half-noticed those who acknowledged our arrival, who either bowed or called out.
One-story homes made of sandstone and clay dotted the gently rolling landscape.
There had to be around a hundred of them, and each one was spaced out to accommodate private, curtained terraces, and small gardens.
As we drew closer to the homes, I could see that the gardens were full of ripe tomatoes and tall stalks of corn, cabbage, and other vegetables planted in neat rows.
The only homes in Solis that had any land beyond a patch barely large enough to grow a tree were the ones in places like Radiant Row.
“My gods,” I whispered as I looked around.
“I’m hoping that’s an exclamation of approval,” Casteel stated as we neared the crest of a small hill.
“It is. These homes… And the gardens? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Food supply is far easier to manage when each household harvests as much as they can,” he said, drawing Molly closer to him when the mare appeared to take note of a vivid, yellow butterfly.
“All the gardens were planted by farmers who have experience with crops. Those who agreed to settle in Spessa’s End were required to apprentice with farmers to learn how to keep them healthy and spot disease.
With the temperatures rarely dropping below freezing at night, we’re able to grow some of the crops longer than places farther north. ”
In Solis, food had to be paid for or grown, but very few had the land to grow anything, which meant that many spent the bulk of their income to acquire food. If there was no money, there simply was nothing to eat.
As soon as we reached the top of the hill, the scent of grilled meat replaced the sweetly scented breeze.
It was then that I realized I hadn’t truly seen anything yet.
The town center lay in the valley between the homes.
There were other buildings—larger than the houses, numerous columned pavilions adorned with bright canopies or curtains, housing various markets.
There were businesses—butchers, seamstresses, blacksmiths, and bakers, and in the very center and raised higher than any of the other buildings was the ruins of what had once been a great coliseum.
Or so it appeared. Only half of the structure remained.
“Concerts and games were once played there,” Casteel said, having followed my gaze. “I remember sitting in those seats, watching plays.”
Thinking of all the souls that had once filled the massive coliseum twisted my heart. “Will it be repaired?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted as we traveled down the sloping hill. “I never wanted to tear it down. It’s become a monument in a way, a reminder of what once stood here. Perhaps one day we will repair it.”
There were more people in the town center, drifting between the pavilions and stalls. Pretending that he was just Hawke and I was Poppy ended as the people either rushed forward to greet Casteel or lingered back until others passed on.
There were wolven and Atlantians among the Descenters, and out of the blur of faces, I realized that all of them seemed genuinely happy to see Casteel.
Most called him by name and not by his title, which was something not tolerated in Solis.
All Royals were addressed as Lord or Lady, and to not do so was seen as greatly disrespectful, and worse yet, potentially a sign of being a Descenter.
I watched Casteel as he grinned or laughed at something someone said, asked about a family member or friend, seemingly as fascinated with them as I had been with the Guardians.
I smiled when he introduced me to those who approached.
My fiancée. My fiancée. My fiancée. I listened as he spoke to many, addressing them by name, and he was attentive and welcoming as we traveled along.
If this wasn’t another mask—if this was who he was with his people—he was a Prince that anyone would be honored to rule beside.
Something nameless and unknown inside of me softened and then opened up even as my senses thrummed under my skin, stretching and throbbing in response to the cyclone of conflicting emotions spilling out of the crowd and into the air around me.
I noticed that, more often than not, the people’s reaction to me was far more subdued.
Smiles went from warm and genuine to cold and tight.
Welcoming glances became ones of curiosity or turned blank.
Some gazes lingered on the scars for the briefest of moments while others openly stared.
There were quickly averted gazes, and mumbled greetings.
Even as I struggled to keep my senses in check—even though I knew that many of the people of Atlantia didn’t welcome me—I started pretending again.
But this time he was Casteel, and I was Poppy, and he truly was my Prince.