Fingers touched the other side of my cheek, and Kieran’s pale eyes locked with mine. “You are a descendant of the gods, Poppy. You run from no one and nothing.”

My breath caught as my gaze held Kieran’s and then shifted to Casteel. The center of my chest hummed. A heartbeat passed, and then I looked at the closed doors. It was okay to be nervous. Who wouldn’t be in my situation? But I wasn’t afraid.

Because they were right.

I was brave.

I was fearless.

And I ran from no one and nothing—and that included a crown.

My gaze flickered over the wolven, stopping on Vonetta. Exhaling slowly, I nodded. We turned to the doors as they opened to an area lit by the sun coming from the dome’s glass sides.

Rows of semicircular benches sat on either side of the aisle, offering enough seating for what had to be several thousand—possibly more. Above, a balcony area where even more people could attend jutted out, and under them stood ten statues of the gods, five on each side. They held unlit torches against their black stone chests. Ahead of us, the statue of who I could only assume was Nyktos stood in the center of the dais. Beyond him was another set of doors as large as the ones we’d entered through, where guards stood now. I recognized Hisa. The thrones sat before the statue of Nyktos.

They were both made of pearlescent shadowstone, streaked with thick veins of gold. Their shape fascinated me. The backs were circular and spiked, shaped like the sun and its rays, and at the center of the top, carved out of the same stone, was a sword and arrow crossing each other.

The current Queen and King of Atlantia stood beside their thrones, and as their son and I walked forward with the wolven trailing and spreading out among the rows of benches, I realized that both wore their crowns.

The crown upon the King’s head was twisted, bleached bone, but the one that sat upon the Queen’s head was golden, shining bone. I hadn’t seen the crown since the Chambers of Nyktos. Eloana and Valyn stood in silence as we approached them, Casteel’s mother’s hands clasped at her waist.

“Mother,” Casteel said as we stopped before the steps of the dais. Kieran and the others hung back several feet. “Father.”

“We are glad to see that you have both returned,” his father replied, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Not without interruptions.” Casteel tilted his head. “We were accosted by members of the Unseen.”

“Were there any injuries?” his mother asked.

“No.” Casteel looked at me. “My wife made sure of that.”

“We all made sure of that,” I added.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” she said. “But it shouldn’t have happened.”

No, it shouldn’t have.

But it did.

“Arden arrived safely, I assume?” Casteel queried.

His father nodded. “Yes. He is resting in one of the rooms. All the wolven told us was that the meeting went well.”