She nodded.

“I still do not understand how Malec is her father, then,” Kieran stated, and I was right there with him.

“Where is Malec entombed?” Casteel asked.

His mother walked over to where his father sat. “I do not know what the area would be called now, as so much of that land has changed in the years since. But it would not be hard to locate. Trees the color of blood, the likes of which grow at the Chambers of Nyktos and now flourish across the Skotos Mountains, will mark the land that entombs him.”

I gasped. “The Blood Forest outside of Masadonia.”

Casteel looked at me and then at Kieran. “You know something I’ve always wondered? Why the Blood Crown sent you to live in Masadonia when it would have been safer for you to be in the capital.”

As did I.

“Because her blood would’ve been too much of a lure to the Ascended, and she would’ve been placed with someone the Crown trusted,” his father said, and my stomach twisted with nausea.

“I’ve had serious doubts about the Blood Crown’s judgement, but if they trusted the Teermans, that shows a lack of awareness that is startling,” Casteel replied, smoothing his fingers down the center of my palm.

“But they never fed from me,” I said. “As much as I can remember.”

“No, they abused you instead.” His tone hardened. “I’m not sure I see much of a difference between the two.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Queen Eloana said, lowering her now-empty glass to a table by the settee.

“I…” My stomach tumbled some more as something occurred to me. “Is it possible that Ileana or Jalara learned where Malec was entombed?”

King Valyn inhaled deeply, and every part of me tensed even further. “I imagine they did. It’s the only plausible explanation as to how Malec is your father.”

I stared at them.

Casteel’s fingers stilled against my hand. “Are you implying that the Ascended raised him? Because I never heard them mention him.”

“They would’ve had to have gotten to him before he died,” his father said. “But even if it took only a century or two to learn that he was entombed there, it would’ve taken a lot of Atlantian blood to bring him into any state of consciousness. And even then, he would’ve been…not of the right mind. I doubt he would recover from such a thing in hundreds of years.”

My gods.

I pressed my other hand against my mouth. The implications were so horrifying, I couldn’t speak.

“And when did you all suspect that he had risen?” Casteel asked softly.

“When we saw her at the Chambers. Saw what Alastir claimed for ourselves,” his mother said. “We would’ve talked to you immediately, but…”

But there hadn’t been time.

A wild sense of panic rose in me, thinning each breath I took. I fought past it as my heart thundered against my chest. None of this changed who I was. None of this changed who I would grow into. At the end of the day, these were just names and stories. They were not me.