“News of your arrival and who you are has already reached the capital. The Elders know. There are questions and concerns. I’m sure some doubt your heritage, but after yesterday—after what you did for that little girl—that will change,” she told me, and I tensed. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you regret what you did? Because of what it confirms?”

“Gods, no,” I asserted. “I will never regret using my gifts to help someone. The Ascended wouldn’t allow me to use them, giving me excuses, but I now know why they didn’t want me to use my abilities. What I could do revealed too much. I hated it—hated being unable to help someone when I could.”

“But did you? Did you find ways to help people without being caught?”

I nodded. “I did. If I could find a way, I helped people—eased their pain. Most never knew what was happening.”

Approval drifted through her, reminding me of buttery cakes, and a quick smile appeared. “We cannot leave the people of Atlantia hanging in limbo for too long.”

“In other words, the plans to enter Solis with your armies will happen in a few days?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Unless…”

Unless Casteel and I stopped it.

Good gods.

“I know you got to see a little of Atlantia yesterday, but you didn’t meet nearly enough people. You don’t have long, but you can leave today for Evaemon. You’d arrive tomorrow morning and could then take as many days as we have to explore what you can of Atlantia. To talk to the people. Hear their voices. See them with your eyes. Learn that not all of them would’ve taken part in what happened at the Chambers or would stand by Alastir and the Unseen.” She reached over, placing her hand over mine. “You don’t have much time, but you can take what you do have to give the people of Atlantia the chance you are willing to give our enemies. My son’s plans and yours can wait a few days, can they not?”

Casteel was definitely his mother’s son.

I looked at the gently swaying spikes of purple and blue flowers. I wanted to see more of Atlantia, and not just because I was curious to see the capital. I needed to because I had a choice to make—one I’d never planned on, but one I had to come to terms with sooner rather than later. I swallowed, turning back to the Queen.

Before I could speak, the sound of footsteps reached us. We both turned to the path we’d followed and stood. My hand drifted to the hem of my tunic as Kieran stepped out from the tall cones of blossoms, only a few feet from me.

“It’s Casteel and his father,” he told me.

“Well,” the Queen said, smoothing her hands over the waist of her dress, “I doubt they grew bored enough to interrupt us.”

Neither did I.

A moment later, they rounded the corner, the sun turning Casteel’s hair a blue-black. A heavy, thick feeling followed by a tart taste reached me. He was concerned. And conflicted.