Queen Eloana watched as his gaze searched mine. He nodded. He didn’t speak, but there was a silent vow there.

It took me a few moments to find my ability to talk again. “Well, at least you can stop calling me a goddess. I am just a…deity.”

A heartbeat passed, and a wide smile broke out across Casteel’s face. Both dimples made an appearance. “You will always be a goddess to me.”

Feeling my cheeks warm, I sat back. A hundred or more questions roamed through my mind, but two came to the forefront. “Have you heard of any prophecies supposedly written in the bones of the Goddess Penellaphe that warn against a great evil that will destroy Atlantia?”

Casteel’s parents stared at me as if a third arm had grown out of my forehead and waved at them. It was his mother who snapped out of her stupor first. She cleared her throat. “No. We don’t have prophecies.”

“But I’m kind of curious about this one,” King Valyn murmured.

“It’s really dumb,” Kieran advised.

“It is.” I glanced at Casteel before continuing. “Do you know if deities have to…if they need blood? I did when I first woke up after Casteel gave me his blood, but I haven’t felt a…hunger for it since then.”

King Valyn’s brows lifted. “As far as I know, deities didn’t need to feed.” He looked at his wife, who nodded. “On the other hand, I do remember reading something long ago about gods needing to feed if they’d been wounded or physically exerted themselves too much. Your need could’ve stemmed from receiving so much Atlantian blood,” he said, his brow furrowing. “That could’ve been a one-off thing or something that becomes a necessity.”

Casteel smiled faintly as I nodded. The idea of drinking blood was still a strange thing for me to consider, but I could get used to it. I snuck a glance at Casteel. He would definitely get used to it.

His mother’s gaze met mine. “Would you like to take a walk? You and I?”

Casteel stiffened beside me, and inside me, my heart turned over heavily. “I don’t know about that,” he said.

Sorrow spiked in his mother, bright and raw. “I only wish to get to know my daughter-in-law. There is no nefarious reason to the request, nor any other shocking news to share.”

There wasn’t—at least, I didn’t sense hostility from her or dread, only sadness and maybe the nutty flavor of resolve. I wasn’t exactly sure I was prepared to be alone with his mother. The mere idea made it feel like a hundred flesh-eating butterflies were in my chest, and that provided momentarily disturbing imagery.

“I promise,” his mother said. “She has nothing to fear from me.”

“I don’t,” I agreed, and she looked at me. “I don’t fear you at all.”

And that was the truth. I was nervous, but that was not the same as fear.

The Queen stared for a moment and then smiled. “I would think not. My son would only choose a bride whose bravery equaled his own.”