King Valyn’s gaze shifted to mine. “I am sorry for what was done to you when you arrived and what has happened since. This is not who Atlantia is. Neither Eloana nor I would have allowed something like this to happen if we’d known what Alastir had planned,” he told me as empathy pushed through the walls he’d built, reaching me. “And I also know that my apology does very little to change or rectify what has happened—what could have been the outcome of such treachery and evil. And that is what Alastir and those who conspired with him have committed.”

I nodded. “It’s…” I stopped myself before telling him it was okay. Because it wasn’t—none of this was. So, all I could do was nod once more.

King Valyn turned to his son. “I can only assume what you plan to do with Alastir and the others who are held below, but I want your assurance that he will not survive the night. If he does, he will be executed in the morning,” he told Casteel. “And while the crown still sits upon my head, it is an order I will personally ensure is carried out.”

While I was glad he didn’t demand leniency for Alastir, the part about the crown sent a wave of anxiety through me. I knew what he meant without him having to say it more clearly. He didn’t expect to bear the weight of the crown for much longer.

“He will not survive the night,” Casteel assured him. “None of them will.”

King Valyn nodded and then hesitated for a moment. “Come to us when you are both ready. We will be waiting.”

I watched Casteel’s father make his way around us, the wolven clearing a path for him.

“Wait. Please.” Aware of Casteel’s stare, I turned to where his father stopped before the door. He looked back at me. “You were at the ruins in the Wastelands. Thank you for helping Casteel—for helping me,” I said, hoping I wasn’t proven a fool later for thanking him. “Thank you.”

King Valyn’s head tilted to the side. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re family now. Of course, I would help you.”

Home.

Kieran sat beside me in his wolven form as I stood between the cypresses, under the splintered beams of moonlight. The cliff’s edge overlooked Saion Cove’s now-dark waters, reflecting the deep blues and blacks of the night sky. From here, I could see the city lights glittering like stars coming to rest beyond the trees and valleys. It all looked like a beautiful canvas, almost unreal. It reminded me a little of Carsodonia, but even in the middle of the night, the bay would be full of ships, transporting people and goods in and out. But it was peaceful here, with the sound of the waterfalls and distant calls of nightbirds, and I was shocked and relieved to feel the same as I had when I stood in the Chambers of Nyktos.