“Mates are two parts of one soul, destined by the gods or the universe—take your pick—to be together.”
“Wait, so there’s no choice involved? You’re just forced to be with whoever the universe decides? Why would anyone want that? Especially if you’re already in love with someone else?”
He shrugged. “There’s a powerful magic in a mating bond. I’mguessing Zachariah wanted to harness that. And he wanted the crown. The crown has a tradition of only passing once the next in line has found their mate. Something about needing the support of your other half.”
“Does everyone have a mate?”
Finn pursed his lips. “That’s a good question. We don’t entirely know. Certainly people fall in love and marry without ever having confirmation of a mating bond. If they had waited, would they have found their mate? Possibly.”
I didn’t have much experience with men—other than Tanner and he didn’t count—but I wondered if I had a mate. I liked to think I would have known if I had met him. Not that I necessarily wanted to. Being forced to be with someone because the universe said so sounded pretty shitty.
Finn continued, “And of course finding your mate is no guarantee of finding love. Just look at your grandparents. But it worked out, for Zachariah at least. He got the crown.”
I still had questions about mates, but right now, my mind was focused on the crown. Probably because everyone expected it to be mine someday. “But where did the crown go?”
Finn shrugged again. “No one knows. When Thom and Mira died, it went missing. Probably won’t come back until you’re ready for it.”
“If birth doesn’t automatically make the crown go to you, why does everyone think it’ll come to me?”
“That’s a good question. And I think it comes back to the prophecy. What kind of prophecy would it be if the Orlaith didn’t get the crown?” He chuckled as I made a face at him. “Now, if you don’t have any other questions about mysterious crowns appearing and disappearing at will, I was planning to continue our discussion on the geography of the kingdom that you’ll most likely rule over.”
Shuffling papers around, he pulled out a large map and unfolded it. My chair squeaked and shifted. I grabbed onto the armrests as it skidded across the floor to Finn’s side ofthe table.
“A little warning?” I croaked out.
He flashed me a grin. “It was faster this way.”
“And allowed you to show off.” I made myself release the death grip on the armrests as I looked down at the seven provinces of Serentyn denoted in ink.
“This is where we are, Valdris, in the province of Valoreth.” He pointed to a spot in the center of the map. “We call Valdris a mountain, but really, it’s little more than a rocky outcropping, especially when you compare it to the actual mountains.” His finger traced northeast. “These are the Mistrael Mountains that curve around us here. To the west of us is Valerion, and directly south is Aurantia.”
He continued tracing the provinces. “Beyond Valerion to the northwest is Norethgale. That’s the northern coastal region. And the southernmost province on the coast is Solmere, where Griff and I are from.”
His finger moved east. “On this side, the Mistrael Mountains give way to the forests of Sylvaneth. And then…” He paused, pointing to an area that instead of having detailed features of trees, bodies of water, and mountains, simply was empty. “The Barren Wastes are beyond the Mistrael Mountains and Sylvaneth.”
“Barren Wastes? What happened there?”
He ran a hand through his light brown hair, a habit I’d noticed he shared with his brother. “No one truly knows. It’s been there as long as anyone can remember. Our best guess is that Rose took you across it—how, I have no idea—and your village is somewhere on the other side.”
It hadn’t been clear to me before just how far away home was. A wave of homesickness washed over me, a longing for Nana and her calm presence. I had so many questions for her. Questions I was never going to have answered.
He peered out one of the windows. “It’s a clear day. If we go up to the highest tower on the ramparts, you can see quite a bit of Serentyn.”
I stood with alacrity, ready to be moving again. Finn slung anarm around my shoulders and led me from the room, continuing to tell me the history of the kingdom as we walked through the halls, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor. He explained how Valdris was in the center of Serentyn, and from here, the Veil extended out to our boundaries. The castle had been built to defend the Veil, and over time, the city had built up around it, spiraling down the mountainside. The governors from each of the provinces made up the council, plus others deemed important enough to be part of Zachariah’s closest advisors. I was sure my first meeting with this illustrious group would be forthcoming, although beyond chance encounters—usually at dinner—my grandfather had so far left me alone, with only comments about dedicating myself to training whenever he did see me.
“And this room”—Finn gestured to a door we passed—“is where I was trapped once by someone who demanded I use my considerable mental powers to convince their rooster to not crow with the dawn.”
I snorted. “You’re making that up.”
“I am not,” Finn said in mock outrage. “It was two hours of them trying to convince me to be a poultry whisperer. Two. Hours. Lexie. It was brutal.”
I laughed as we continued on through hallway after hallway. Most hallways in this monstrosity were internal and the only light we had was the harsh magical light that flickered from the walls themselves. It had taken some getting used to, but now after a month in residence, I was finally starting to adjust.
We reached a spiral staircase, and Finn gestured for me to go first. I tried counting the floors we covered, but lost track. There was no rhyme or reason to how this castle had been built. When I complained about it, he laughed, a bit breathlessly with the strain of the climb.
“My understanding is that this started as a fortress when the gods first cast the Veil, and over the generations, people have built onto it. But clearly without any thought as to how, or if they should.”
That was an understatement.
