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I handed Casteel the towel as I said, “I…I have these memories of that night,” I said, glancing at Kieran. He’d donned a black tunic. “I know I heard Alastir’s voice—I heard him talking to my father. But I…I’ve dreamt of someone in a dark cloak. Someone else could’ve been there, and Alastir didn’t make it sound like it was someone who had anything to do with him. What if…what if that Craven attack had nothing to do with Alastir or the Unseen?”

“You’re thinking the Ascended may have had something to do with it?” Kieran asked from the doorway. “But if they knew what you were, they would want you to stay alive.”

“Agreed.” Casteel dragged the towel over his chest and face. “Luring the Craven to the inn would’ve been too much of a risk. Those creatures cannot be controlled by anyone.”

“And all that hinges on whether or not the Ascended knew what I was before my parents left—before I was attacked. I still don’t know that for sure,” I said. “Alastir never confirmed that.”

Casteel rubbed the towel through his hair. “But if they did know, that would mean that the Ascended—the Blood Crown—knew that one of your parents was a descendant of Atlantia.”

“And that leaves us with the question of why they weren’t used in the same fashion as all the others descended from Atlantia,” I murmured, sighing. One possible answer or question just led to another. It made my head hurt.

And my heart, too.

“Before those things showed up tonight, you asked how it was possible for your abilities to be this strong—how they were this strong even before Cas Ascended you.” Kieran drew my gaze to him. “One of your parents had to be a full-blooded Atlantian.”

“But how is that possible if I’m descended from Malec? His offspring with a mistress would’ve been mortal. And if my mother was a Handmaiden, it couldn’t have been her, right?” I looked at Casteel.

“I would think not,” he answered, tossing the towel into the hamper. “None I saw were, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible—possibly implausible, but not impossible.”

“And I look like my mother,” I told them. “Except for my eyes.”

“Your father?” Kieran asked, even though I was sure we’d had this conversation before.

“He was from Carsodonia, just like my mother was,” I answered.

“I know you don’t like to hear this,” Kieran started, and I stiffened, knowing where he was going with this, “but that’s all assuming that your parents were your birth parents. Or—” he quickly added when I opened my mouth. “Or what you remember, what you were told about who your parents were, simply wasn’t the truth.”

Chapter 20

“He’s right,” Casteel said softly, his gaze searching mine. “I don’t know why Alastir would’ve lied about your mother being a Handmaiden. If he was telling the truth, your mother was never a Lady in Wait, destined to Ascend. That could also mean your father wasn’t a merchant’s son.” He paused. “It could also mean that only one—or neither of them—was your parent by blood.”

And if neither of them was? Then Ian…he may not be like me at all if he Ascended. He may be like any other vampry.

Leaning against the cold tile, I tipped my head back. I started to respond and then stopped as my toes curled against the floor. “I was young. My memories of before that night are spotty at best. I just know what I was told about them, and although Ian was older, it wouldn’t be like he knew any differently.” I shook my head, overwhelmed. “But I look like my mother, so maybe my father was an Atlantian, and my mother a mortal descendant of Malec and his mistress. Would that explain my abilities being so strong?”

“That would be one hell of a coincidence,” Kieran noted, and he was right.

Casteel and Kieran exchanged a look. “I don’t know,” Casteel answered. “That’s a complicated bloodline to sort through, but that’s also working off the assumption that you are related to Malec. You may not be. Alastir could be wrong, even if he truly believed that.”

I wondered if his mother would know somehow.

Casteel’s gaze met mine. “We’ll figure this out.”

Other than his mother, as unlikely as that may be, only one other person may know.

Queen Ileana.

Casteel turned to Kieran. “I think there’s an old robe in there. Can you grab it for me?”

Kieran handed him a long piece of black clothing as he said, “There’s something I need to do real quick. I’ll be right back.”

Watching me, Casteel nodded curtly as he hung the robe from a hook by the door. “We’ll be here.” He waited until Kieran disappeared. “Let’s get you out of that shirt so I can burn it.”

A wry grin tugged at my lips. “I guess this shirt isn’t salvageable?”

“Unlikely.” He came to me, curling his fingers around the hem. “You know the drill.”