Queen Eloana blinked rapidly while her husband stared at me as if I’d sprouted a third arm. His mother recovered first. “Thank you for being so understanding, especially when we are the ones who have much to atone for. Please,”—she extended an arm to identical settees that sat across from the one she had been seated upon—“have a seat.”

Casteel glanced back at me, the question clear in his eyes. He was leaving it up to me, whether we stayed or left. I reached out to him, welcoming the weight and feel of his fingers around mine. I nodded.

Relief was evident from both his parents. “Would either of you like something to drink? Kieran?” she asked.

We passed on the offer as we sat in the thickly cushioned settee—the kind I could easily imagine curling up in to read a book.

Just not that damn diary.

Kieran remained standing, taking up a guard position behind the settee, and it didn’t escape me that that was exactly what he was doing. He was standing guard directly behind me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

That had to send a rather uncomfortable message.

“I hope what you saw of Atlantia yesterday has shown you that your experiences with us so far are not who we are,” King Valyn stated, his stare nearly as intense as his son’s as he revealed their knowledge of how we’d spent the day before. He and his wife sat. “And those you may have met yesterday are more of a representation.”

“I want nothing more than for that to be true,” I admitted. “What I’ve seen so far of Saion’s Cove has been lovely.”

His father nodded. “I want to make sure that is the only truth you come to know.”

“We learned last night that we owe you our gratitude, something else I should’ve said already.” The Queen’s citrine-bright gaze fixed on me. I tasted the lemon of curiosity, a tart blast of confusion, and the tangy undercurrent of sorrow. “Thank you for aiding the child who was injured in the carriage accident. You prevented a great, unnecessary tragedy.”

I glanced at Casteel, unsure of how to answer. You’re welcome seemed like an odd way to respond in this situation. His hand tightened around mine. “I…I only did what I could to help her.”

The King arched a brow. “Only did what you could? You saved that child’s life. That was no simple act.”

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable.

“My wife is far humbler than I am,” Casteel asserted, and there was a soft, barely audible but recognizable snort from behind me. The corners of my lips turned down as Casteel’s gaze slid to mine. “If I were capable of doing what she did, I would have my greatness inked on my skin.”

“Really,” I replied dryly. “That sounds excessive.”

“But as you already know, I am excessive in all things,” he told me in a voice that was all lush, decadent smoke.