I wasn’t at all surprised that he didn’t press harder about what I’d said. Most mortals rarely questioned anything. Generation after generation was groomed to simply accept what they were told. That was one thing I could thank the Ascended for. It made what I’d come to do much easier.
“Bet Carsodonia looks nothing like this,” Pence said, sounding wistful.
I almost laughed. The capital was just like Masadonia, though even more stratified and worse. But I squelched the sound that wanted to rise in humor. “The beaches along the Stroud Sea are…nice.”
A brief smile appeared on Pence’s face, making him seem even younger. “Never seen the sea before.”
He probably never would.
A gnawing pang radiated through my chest and stomach, reminding me that I needed to feed.
“My brother will, though,” he added with a smile. “Owen is a second son, you know.”
Anger replaced the ache, flooding my system, but I kept it in check as I turned my attention back to the Lower Ward. “He’s a Lord in Wait, then?”
“Yeah. He’s at the castle. Been there since he turned thirteen, learning to be a Lord.”
I smirked. “How does one learn to be a Lord?”
“I imagine it’s all about which fork and spoon is the correct one to eat with. Fancy shit like that.” Pence let out a raspy laugh, reminding me that he’d only just recovered from one of the many sicknesses that ran rampant through the Citadel and the Lower Ward. “Probably bored out of his mind learning the histories and how to act right, not realizing how lucky he is.”
“Lucky?” I glanced at him.
“Fuck, yeah. All the second sons and daughters are.” Pence adjusted the hilt of his sword. “He’ll never have to worry about being up on the Rise or going out beyond it. He’s got it made, Hawke. He really does.”
I stared at the fool—no, not a fool. Pence may not be educated—none of the first sons or daughters were unless they were wealthy—but the man wasn’t a fool. He’d just been fed the same bullshit the Blood Crown doled out in spoonfuls. So, of course, he thought his brother was lucky to be given to the Royal Court upon his thirteenth birthday during the godsforsaken Rite—as all second sons and daughters were. They were raised at Court and then, at some point, received the Blessing of the gods. They were Ascended. But I supposed Owen was luckier than the third sons and daughters, those given over at infancy during the Rite to serve the gods in the various Temples throughout the kingdom.
I ground my molars. The faith the people had in the Ascended was strong, wasn’t it? In truth, the Lords and Ladies in Wait didn’t receive jack shit from the gods when they Ascended, and those babes weren’t being raised to serve the gods because the gods had been resting for centuries.
But most of the people of Solis didn’t know that, and if I were being fair, it wasn’t all that hard to understand how the Ascended had so many believing in them. If one only looked at the surface, you wouldn’t doubt the gods had Blessed the Ascended. Not when they appeared to have been gifted strength, longevity, wealth, and power that mortals could only dream of. However, nothing about the Ascended—the Blood Crown and all their Dukes and Duchesses and Ascended Lords and Ladies—was a blessing.
It was all a fucking waking nightmare.
An odd noise came from behind us, a low wail easily mistaken for the wind, but everyone on the Rise was trained to listen for that sound. The warning. We turned at once, facing the moonlight-drenched lands beyond the Rise.
I crossed to the other side of the wall and looked out over the barren lands. Clouds had gathered, blocking most of the moonlight, but my eyesight was far better than the others on the Rise and below, just outside the wall, where the horses whinnied nervously, I saw what that sound warned of. Beyond the row of torches placed about halfway out from the Rise, a thick mist gathered at the edges of the Blood Forest, a lone shadow in the mist.
Pence joined me, scanning the darkened land. He was paler now, but his shoulders were straight as he withdrew the bow strapped to his back. The guard was afraid, but that didn’t make him any less brave.
The Blood Crown didn’t deserve him or the men below, those who began riding forward. Some of them wouldn’t return.
Another low, keening cry echoed from the Blood Forest, and a second shadow appeared in the mist. Then another. The mist didn’t thicken or rise, though. There didn’t seem to be a horde, but three Craven could be dangerous enough.
“Fucking Atlantians,” Pence spat.
My head cut to him, and I had to stop myself from knocking his ass off the Rise—or laughing, considering he cursed those whose blood would be used to Ascend his brother when the time came since the gods weren’t Ascending anyone. The Blood Crown simply used Atlantian blood.
And the Craven had nothing to do with my people. They weren’t the product of our poisonous kiss as the mortals were led to believe. That was just more shit the Blood Crown used to cover up their misdeeds and make sure the people hated Atlantians. They were solely responsible for the creatures that slaughtered indiscriminately in their hunger for blood.
“I really hope my brother Ascends soon,” Pence said, swallowing. “He’ll be safer then, you know?”
Yeah, he would be safer.
He’d also be creating more Craven that could one day kill Pence.
“How old is your brother now?” I knew the Blood Crown didn’t typically Ascend the Lords and Ladies in Wait until they reached adulthood.
“Just turned sixteen.” Pence squinted. “Not sure if he’ll Ascend during the Maiden’s Ascension or if they’ll wait. But it’s coming up. That is if it actually happens.”
I stiffened, forcing my grip on my sword to relax.
The Maiden.
Breathing in deeply, I ignored the stench I could practically taste. She was the reason I was in this shithole of a city. Her Ascension was to happen within the year, and it should’ve been the largest one to take place since the end of the war some several hundred years ago.
Should’ve been the key phrase there. Because Pence was smart to question if the Ascension would happen.
It wouldn’t.
My voice was level as I asked, “What makes you think the Ascension won’t happen?”
“Seriously? You don’t think the Descenters will try something?” He sent me a sharp look as he lowered the bow. “They want to usurp the Crown. At the very least, cause trouble. Preventing the Maiden’s Ascension would be one way to do just that.”
“And why would the Maiden’s Ascension have that much impact on the Crown?” I angled my body toward his, doubting he could answer what I or any of my spies had yet to figure out.
His eyes narrowed. “Because the Maiden is Chosen by the gods,” he said with the reverence that often filled the voice of anyone who spoke about the Maiden and the confidence of every single motherfucker who spewed that bullshit. Except Pence’s words included a tone that said he thought me half-idiotic to even ask the question.
It was a good thing I stopped myself from shouting, “Why?” in his face. Why was this Maiden Chosen? The Blood Crown never elaborated beyond her Ascension ushering in a new era. No matter who we questioned or how many Ascended we interrogated, we never learned the reason beyond the belief or how she would be this…this harbinger of a new era.