Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
“Why do you call me Penellaphe?”
“Why do you have so many questions?”
My eyes narrowed. “Why can’t you answer the question?”
Kieran leaned over, dipping his chin. “Nicknames are often reserved for friends. I don’t believe you consider us friends.”
What he said made so much sense that I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. When I did, I doubted he would be happy to learn that it was another question. “Like how Atlantians only share their middle names with friends?”
“With close friends, yes.” He studied me a moment. “I’m guessing Casteel told you his.”
“Yes.”
“Did that change anything for you?”
I didn’t answer because I still didn’t understand why it mattered to me. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Kieran didn’t push it, and we finished what was left of our lunch in silence. I kept glancing toward the open doorway. Not that I was looking for Casteel, but I…I was looking for anyone. The few people who had been at the back of the room had all but disappeared.
I imagined Kieran was grateful for the reprieve, but sadly for him, it was short-lived. “You know what I don’t understand?”
“Yet another question,” he said, heaving an absurdly loud sigh.
I pretended not to hear his comment. “Alastir brought up a good point about my parents. I must be a second-generation, right? Since neither of my parents were full-blooded, like born in Atlantia as far as I know,” I told him. “But Queen Ileana knew what I was…” I trailed off, frowning.
I truly had no idea if the Ascended knew what I was before or after the Craven attack. Surviving the Craven’s bite and not turning would’ve been a dead giveaway to Queen Ileana.
“What?” Kieran prodded.
“I…I honestly can’t remember being referred to as the Maiden or the Chosen before my parents left. But I was so young, and there are so few memories.” And what I remembered of the night of the Craven attack, I couldn’t exactly trust as real. “I don’t know how they learned what I was. If it were my abilities before the attack or if it was after that.”
“And you don’t remember what made your parents leave the capital?”
“I remember them saying that they wanted a quieter life, but what…what if they knew what would happen to me? To their children?”
“And they were escaping the Ascended?” Kieran took a drink. “That’s a possibility.”
I glanced back at the doors. “Alastir helped to relocate Atlantians who were stranded in Solis?”
“He did, but if your parents were first-generation, unaware of what they were, I doubt they would’ve known how to even contact someone like Alastir. “
“How would they have contacted him?” I turned back around.
“They would’ve had to know someone who knew someone who knew someone, and through the whole chain of people, they’d have had to trust each and every one completely.”
Considering how Descenters were treated, I couldn’t imagine anyone having that kind of trust. But still, what if they had been seeking someone like Alastir? What if they’d left without even knowing that there were others out there that could help them? Would that have changed the outcome at all? Probably.
“Alastir did bring up another good point,” Kieran commented.
“How either of my parents didn’t end up being used to create more vampry.”
“Unless…”
I knew where he was heading with that. “Anyway, back to my original question.”
“Yay,” he muttered.
“If my parents were first-generation, then I would be second.”
His gaze flickered over my face, passing over the scars without even so much as a slight widening of the eyes. “Assuming that they are both your parents, yes. I would almost think your abilities would make you first-generation, but it’s possible that you’re second.”
“And all Atlantians have golden eyes, in some shape or form,” I said. “As I’m sure you can tell, I don’t have golden eyes.”
“No, you don’t. But I never said all Atlantians have golden eyes. I said most do,” Kieran said, toying with the fork. “Changelings don’t, and they have no unique eye color. Neither did a few of the other bloodlines we believed had died off,” he added, the fork stilling between his fingers. “Maybe we were wrong to assume that some of the older lines have ceased to exist. Perhaps you’re proof of that.”
Chapter 9
“You think I might be a descendent of one of the other bloodlines? Or…or a changeling?” A thousand thoughts entered my head all at once. “I can’t change my form. I mean, I haven’t tried. Should I?” My nose wrinkled. “Probably not. Knowing my luck, my other form would be a barrat.” I shuddered. Barrats were rats the size of a small bear.
Kieran stared at me, his lips twitching. “You have a selective memory. I said most can shift forms, but not all. And it would be extremely doubtful that even a first-generation descendent of the changeling bloodline could do that.”