I watched him sit, my heart thumping as he turned to me, his gaze sheltered by a fringe of heavy lashes.
“You probably think that was excessive,” he said, dropping the crumpled, blood-stained napkin onto his plate. “It wasn’t. No one speaks of you or to you like that and lives.”
I stared at him.
He sat back. “At least, I gave him a quick death. There is some dignity in that.”
I had no idea what to say.
I had no clue what to feel. All I could think was, oh my gods, he just ripped a wolven’s heart from his chest with his bare hand.
The men who stood by the doors were picking up Landell when one of the men at the table asked, “So, when is the wedding?”
Laughter greeted the question, and there was a hint of a smile on Casteel’s lips as he leaned toward me. “There is no side of you that is not as beautiful as the other half. Not a single inch isn’t stunning.” His lashes lifted, and the intensity in his stare held me captive. “That was true the first time I said it to you, and it is still the truth today and tomorrow.”
My lips parted on a sharp inhale. I almost reached for my face again but stopped myself. Somehow, in the process of getting used to being seen without the veil of the Maiden, I’d forgotten about my scars—something I’d never thought possible. I wasn’t ashamed of them, hadn’t been for years. They were proof of my strength, of the horrific attack I had survived. But when I was unveiled in front of Casteel for the first time, I’d feared he would agree with what Duke Teerman had always said. What I knew most thought if they saw me unveiled or looked upon me now.
That half of my face was a masterpiece, while the other was a nightmare.
But when Hawke—Casteel—had seen the pale pink, jagged streak of skin that started below my hairline and sliced across the temple, ending at my nose, and the other that was shorter and higher, cutting across my forehead through my eyebrow, he had said that both halves were as beautiful as the whole.
I’d believed him then. And I’d felt beautiful for the first time in my life, something that had also been forbidden to me.
And gods help me, but I still believed him.
“What he said was more than an insult. It was a threat that I will not tolerate,” Casteel finished, sitting back as he picked up his chalice with the same hand that had torn a heart free from its cage moments before.
My gaze fell to where the dagger still lay on Landell’s plate. What the wolven would’ve attempted to do with that dagger shouldn’t have come as a shock. It wasn’t like I didn’t know that many of those at this table would rather see me sliced into pieces. I knew I wasn’t safe here, but all of them had seen the hall outside this room. They had to know what would happen if they disobeyed Casteel.
Some unconscious part of me still underestimated their hatred of anything that reminded them of the Ascended. And that was me, even if I hadn’t done anything to them other than defend myself.
Conversation picked back up around the table. Quiet discussions. Louder ones. Laughter. It was like nothing had happened, and that rattled me. But what left me wholly unsettled was what I couldn’t admit, even to myself.
Kieran cleared his throat. “Would you like to return to your room, Penellaphe?”
Pulled from my thoughts, it took me a moment to respond. “You mean my cell?”
“It’s far more comfortable and not nearly as drafty as the dungeon,” he replied.
“A cell is a cell, no matter how comfortable it is,” I told him.
“I’m fairly certain this is the same conversation we had earlier,” Casteel commented.
My gaze swiveled back to Casteel. “I’m fairly certain I don’t care.”
“I’m also sure that we came to the conclusion that you have never been free, Princess,” Casteel tacked on. The truth of those words was still as brutal as it was when they had first been spoken. “I don’t believe you would even recognize freedom if it were ever offered to you.”
“I know enough to recognize that’s not what you’re offering,” I shot back, fury returning in a hot, welcoming wave, warming my too-cold skin.
A faint smile appeared on Casteel’s mouth, though it wasn’t his tight, calculating one. My anger gave way to confusion. Was he purposely baiting me?
More than a little agitated, I focused on the wolven. “I would like to return to my more comfortable, not-nearly-as-drafty cell. I assume I won’t be allowed to walk there myself?”
Kieran’s lips twitched, but his expression smoothed out pretty quickly, proving that he had the common sense not to smile or laugh. “You would assume correctly.”