Sometimes war cannot be prevented.

Two large coliseums sat on either side of the road we traveled on, reminding me of the ruins in Spessa’s End. Statues of the gods lined the interior of the columns and the outer walls farthest from the road were higher, full of rows and rows of seats. Bouquets full of bright purple flowers sat on each of the steps leading into the structures. They were empty, as were the smaller pavilions we passed, their gold and blue canopies rippling softly in the warm breeze, and in the windowed and roofed buildings, but it didn’t stay that way.

“Casteel,” Kieran said, his voice carrying a tone of warning.

“I know.” Casteel’s arm tightened around me. “I was hoping we’d be able to make it farther before we were noticed. That’s clearly not going to happen. These streets are about to fill.”

That odd voice inside me and the unease it stirred quickly faded as people slowly and cautiously ventured outside. Men. Women. Children. They didn’t seem to notice Jasper or Kieran, as if the sight of the former shirtless on horseback was a common occurrence. And maybe it was. Instead, they stared up at Casteel and me with wide eyes. Confusion radiated from anyone I looked at. Everyone appeared frozen, and then an older man in blue yelled, “Our Prince! Prince Casteel! Our Prince returns!”

A gasp went through the crowd like a gust of wind. Doors of shops and homes alike opened down the road. They must not have known that Casteel had recovered from the shadowshade flower. I wondered exactly what knowledge they had of what had occurred in the Chambers of Nyktos. Had the blood rain not fallen on the city? Surely, they had seen the trees of Aios, even though soaring buildings now blocked the mountains.

Shouts of excitement and cheers filled the streets as people clamored and spilled out of buildings or leaned from windows above. Arms rose and trembled as some yelled Casteel’s name, and others praised the gods. An older man dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together against his chest. He wept. And he wasn’t the only one. Women. Men. Many openly cried as they yelled his name. Casteel shifted behind me as my eyes grew to the size of the sun. I…I’d never seen anything like this. Ever.

“They…some of them are crying,” I whispered.

“I think they feared I was dead,” he remarked. “It has been quite some time since I’ve been home.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the reason. From what I’d seen in New Haven and Spessa’s End, he was well loved and respected by his people. My throat tightened as I looked around, seeing a blur of ecstatic, smiling faces. Nothing like this happened when the Ascended rode through their towns. Not even when the Queen or King moved about in public, which if I remembered correctly, had been rare. There had always been silence.

People jerked to a stop, their cheers falling to whispers. At first, I didn’t understand what the cause was.

The wolven.

They must’ve fallen back at some point, but now they returned to our sides. They prowled the street and swept over the sidewalks, moving between mortals and Atlantians alike. They didn’t snarl or snap, but their bodies were clearly tense.

My skin prickled with awareness as gazes moved from Casteel to the wolven and then to me. I stiffened, feeling their stares on my bloodied and dirtied clothing and the bruises surely visible. The scars.

“I would’ve taken a different route to Jasper’s home if it was possible,” Casteel told me, his voice low as we turned onto a road where the buildings reached for the clouds, and the crystal-clear waters of the Seas of Saion began to peek out from behind structures. I’d forgotten the offer Jasper had made at the Chambers. It was telling that Casteel rode there and not to his family’s holdings. “But this is the least populated way.”

This was the least populated area? There had to be…gods, there had to be thousands on the streets now, appearing in windows, and coming to stand out on ivy-smothered balconies and terraces.

“I know this is a lot,” he continued. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t delay this.”

I reached down to where his hand rested lightly on my hip. This time, I didn’t stop myself. I folded my hand over his and squeezed.

Casteel turned his hand over, returning the gesture. We didn’t let go of each other’s hands.

Part of me wanted to look away, to not allow myself to sense what the people were feeling, but that would make me a coward. I let my senses remain open, to stretch out just enough to get the briefest glimpse of their emotions in case I lost control of…whatever I was truly capable of. My pounding heart and wild thoughts made it difficult to concentrate, but after a few moments, I tasted…the tartness of confusion, and the lighter, springy flavor of curiosity coming from the people of Atlantia.