I sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze darted between him and Thorne. “You’re saying they’re false Primals.”
Holland shook his head. “Lucky for them and the realm, they already had enough eather to prevent that from happening.”
The relief that went through me was so intense I thought I might plop right down on the floor.
“They, like you,” Holland said, “are fully Ascended Primals who belong to no Court.”
I almost told him I still had no idea what he meant by that, but I stopped myself because if I asked, the gods knew Lirian would likely have something…asshole-ish to say.
So, as silly as it sounded, I asked myself, and the knowledge found me—or I found it—in the shadowy recesses of my mind. A Court didn’t have the same meaning as it did in the mortal realm. Instead, it was formed when the Ancients split their powers among the Primals they created. And it was more than just a physical location within Iliseeum.
A Court represented the sphere of influence—the type of essence the god wielded and the way it affected the mortal realm. Like with Penellaphe. She was the personification of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty. She drew power from the Court.
There was still something I didn’t understand, though. “He said I was a true Primal.” I jerked my chin at Lirian. “How is that possible if I have no Court?”
“Because you and the ones you Ascended areDeminyen,” Lirian spat, lips puckering as if he’d tasted something sour.
“Deminyen,” I murmured, my brows knitting. “Doesn’t that just mean the Ancient Ones?”
“Deminyenis a…class of primordial beings with no anchors—not even to the essence of the realms.” Holland paused to take a sip. “It includes the Ancients, like the ones you saw earlier.”
“So, you’re saying no other true Primals are fully Ascended?” I asked.
“Only one of those exists,” Thorne answered. “And he is not aDeminyen. He’s…complicated.”
Lirian snorted. “More like a complicated pain in all of our asses.”
The smile Thorne directed at the other Ancient sent a chill skittering down my spine. There was a familiarity in how his features cooled and the curl of his lips, one I recognized as a promise of bloody violence. I blinked as he warned softly, “Careful.”
Lirian’s jaw clenched. “Anyway,” he said, inhaling through his nose, “the three of you are unbound Primals.”
“Unbound true Primals?”
“Yes,” Thorne said, his features warming slightly as his attention turned to me. “Though there are even differences between them.”
“Like what?”
Thorne smiled again, and it was no less alarming. “Casteel.” He lifted the goblet to his lips. “He’s…special,” he said and then added with a wink, “as I’m sure you’d agree.”
I blinked again.
Holland coughed, and I didn’t think I’d heard a more forced sound than that. “So, that is what you are. ADeminyen.”
Pulling my gaze from Thorne, I glanced at Lirian, thinking of how he’d spat the word with such distaste.
He seemed aware of what I was thinking because he said, “You being aDeminyenhas its…benefits. In the event of your deaths, there would be no need for one to Ascend to take your place to ensure the Court remains stable.”
“You were really eager to explain that part,” I pointed out dryly.
Thorne chuckled. That was it. That was his input.
“What he is trying to say is that it’s one less thing to be concerned with,” Holland said. “Not every god can withstand the primordial essence it takes to Ascend to Primalhood. Children of a Primal could, but unless both parents are Primals, there is always a chance they would not survive the Ascension.”
“What about Ires and…?” I trailed off. The moment I said his name, hazy memories surfaced.
“You were saying?” Holland pressed.
I pulled myself from those thoughts. I had been about to ask if Ires and Malec could Ascend. Nektas had made it seem like they couldn’t, but… “TheycanAscend to Primalhood.”
