The lines at his mouth deepened. “You wear your scars proudly, Penellaphe.”
“As do you,” I murmured.
“I am sorry to learn of your parents,” Alastir said. “I wish there was more I could say.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“We need to get going.” Kieran touched my back lightly. “Excuse us.”
Alastir nodded as both he and Emil stepped aside. “It was nice to speak with you, Penellaphe.”
“You, too,” I said, sending both men a small smile.
Kieran ushered me through the otherwise empty common area. I looked over my shoulder to see both males still standing there, watching us. I turned back to the hall. My steps slowed as I said in a low voice, “They…seemed nice. Are they?”
“They are both good men, loyal to Atlantia and the Da’Neer dynasty.”
Dynasty. Is that what Casteel’s family was? A dynasty?
“Come.” He touched my back again. “We must eat. You must eat.”
I forced my steps to keep pace with Kieran’s as I momentarily forgot about Alastir. I couldn’t see beyond the bend, but tiny knots tangled up my stomach. I didn’t want to see the walls with the hanging dead again. “Why is everyone so concerned about me eating?”
“We want to take you to Atlantia. Not starve you.”
Atlantia. My already churning stomach dipped. I knew so little about what rose from the blood and ash of war. “Do they really have running hot water there, available in…faucets?”
Kieran blinked once and then twice. “Yes. They do. It is probably the thing I miss the most when I am here.”
“That sounds lovely,” I murmured. “The hot water part. Not the missing it part.”
“I figured that was what you meant.”
As I neared the bend, I steeled myself for the grotesque sight of the bodies spiked to the walls. Was Jericho still alive? Had the others begun to rot? It was cool enough in here that the others would probably look as they had before, only grayer and waxier. My empty stomach churned as I stepped into the hall and lifted my gaze.
The walls were bare.
No bodies. No evidence of blood, nothing streaming down the walls and finding the tiny cracks in the stone to form little rivers. None on the floor, either.
I pressed my hand to my stomach. “They’re gone.”
“Cas had them removed last night after dinner,” Kieran advised.
Surprise shuttled through me. “And Jericho?”
“He is no more. Casteel took care of him while you were running off to start a new life, one which would’ve ended in certain dismemberment and death at the hands of the Craven.”
Ignoring that jab, I didn’t know if I should feel as relieved as I did. “Did…did Casteel believe his warning was heard?”
“I believe he was more concerned about what you said than if his warning was left up long enough to be heeded.” Kieran crossed through the open doors. “I, on the other hand, would’ve left Jericho up there for at least another day or so.”
My mouth dropped open. I wasn’t sure what shocked me more. That Casteel had acted upon what I’d said, or that Kieran would’ve left the traitorous wolven lingering in a painful state of almost death. “There should always be dignity in death,” I said once I found my voice. “No matter what.”
Kieran didn’t answer as he led me to an empty table. The chairs from the night before had been replaced by a long bench. I sat as I looked around, spotting only a few people toward the back of the banquet hall, near the hearth and several doors. Where was everyone? With Casteel and Elijah?
I turned as Kieran sat beside me. “I don’t think Casteel acted upon my words, but if he did, I’m grateful to hear that.”
He rested an elbow on the table. “I don’t think you realize how much sway you have over him.”
I started to deny such a statement, but an older woman with a white smock covering the front of her soft yellow gown hurried to the table, carrying two plates. The scent of food caused my stomach to make itself known once more. She placed one in front of us, both full of fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted meat, and glistening rolls on the side. As inconspicuously as possible, I noted the color of her eyes. They were brown with no hint of gold.
“Thank you,” I said.
There was a grunt of acknowledgment, but when Kieran offered the same thanks, he was given a warm smile and a sweet, “thank you.” My lips pursed, but I didn’t let it bother me as I snatched up the fork and started shoveling the potatoes into my mouth. Though it was a unique experience for me to even be able to look anyone in the face, or for them to see me, and for us to exchange even simple pleasantries. The mouthful of potatoes turned to sawdust on my tongue, so I guessed her response did bother me. A little.