“Was I a Chosen?” Callum’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something rotten. “Not exactly.”

What did that mean? “The woman I saw feeding. She was a Chosen, though.”

“I believe that has already been established.”

“But you’re not like her.”

Callum’s laugh was airy. “Obviously.”

“Are all the Revenants like you?” I asked.

Callum scoffed. “There are no Revenants like me.”

I rolled my eyes then. “How many are there?”

He said nothing.

Frustration rose, but I changed tack. I was more likely to get an answer if it was directly related to him. “I was under the impression that very few would be allowed in here without Kolis in attendance, but here you are.”

“Because I’m special.”

“Really,” I replied dryly, extending the middle finger of the hand that held the flute.

Callum grinned. “I am the first.”

I halted, the glass halfway to my lips. I hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t even sure why. Everything had a first. “And how did you end up so lucky?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” I countered.

Closing his book, he set it aside as he laughed under his breath. “No, I would be smart and stay quiet.”

“Ah, yes, not asking questions and keeping oneself in the dark and without any understanding of those around them is so very clever.”

Callum smirked. “Well, we will see just how clever you are shortly.”

The tasty water soured in my stomach. “And how is that?”

“When Kolis discovers whether or not you are who you say you are.” Callum leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “If you’re not, I imagine your death will be a painful one.”

“And if I am?” I challenged. “Then what do you imagine?”

“You already know what I imagine.”

I did. “Eventually, Kolis will grow tired of me. Whether it takes weeks, months, or years.”

He nodded. “You’re only an inconvenience.”

“I’d rather be that than an ass-kisser.”

“Charming,” he murmured.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him in the way I did that used to irritate my mother, wide and brightly. Based on his stiffness, I knew it had the same impact on him. Hiding a grin, I leaned back in my chair, deciding I was in the mood to be annoying. “So, what’s up with the masks?”

“What about them?”

“Why is it always painted on your face and the other Revenants, those not as special as you?” Ash had told me the wings were silver when his father was the Primal of Life, but I hadn’t gotten the impression that everyone ran around with the masks painted on their faces when he ruled. “And on the guards.”

He stretched an arm over the back of the settee. “They are symbolic.”

“No shit,” I muttered, quickly swallowing. The tender beef tasted…different. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but yuck. I washed the lingering taste away with a gulp of water.

“It symbolizes that we serve the true King of Gods and are created in his image.” His fingers tapped.

“And who would that be?”

He chuckled. “Cute.”

I ignored that. “I’m guessing the golden wings are supposed to mimic Kolis when he is in his true form?”

Callum nodded.

“But I’ve seen him in his true form,” I said. “He’s nothing but bones.”

The Revenant’s fingers stilled.

“I’m also guessing that’s due to what remains of the last true embers of death in him,” I surmised.

“You’ve seen him like that?” Callum asked.

I nodded.

A slow smile spread across his lips, one that caused my skin to prickle with wariness. “Then you’ve seen death,” he said. “True death. No one sees that and lives very long afterward.”

My stomach twisted as our stares locked. “You don’t scare me.”

Callum laughed. “But he does.”

When Callum returned on what I could only assume was the following day, a bath had been prepared. Which was routine, but after I bathed, a Chosen entered the cage with a swath of sheer material that shimmered like liquid gold in the chandelier’s light.

The quiet Chosen had dressed me, then brushed my hair until it gleamed, sweeping it up with delicate pearl pins like my mother often wore in hers. Rouge was then applied to my cheeks and lips.

Then, she left.

And Kolis arrived.

While he was dressed as usual, a crown I hadn’t seen on him when Ash and I came to Dalos now sat upon his head. It was so golden and bright I couldn’t make out much detail at first, but the longer I stared, the more I saw.

The crown of gold was fashioned into a row of nine swords, each tip bearing a glittering diamond. The center spike was a sun made of more diamonds.

The Primal of Life’s crown was the opposite of the Primal of Death’s, yet they were identical. Day and night. Life and Death.

It was hard not to stare at it and think how it should rest on Ash’s head. Yet seeing him in such, even in my imagination, didn’t feel right.

Kolis’s crown wasn’t the only thing on display.

So was I.

There’d been no more talk of discovering my secrets as he’d warned. He hadn’t mentioned Ash, and there hadn’t been time for me to even ask.

All he’d said to me was, “Do not engage with those who enter the chamber,” which was a clear warning. After that, between conducting the businesses of the King of Gods from where he sat upon his throne while staring at me—at certain parts of me—he was occupied.

Which was why I was dressed as I was, my hair styled in a way that provided an unobstructed view of everything the gown revealed.

The same brown-haired guard I’d seen during my escape attempt escorted the gods into the chamber. I’d discovered his name was Elias. I remembered it because he was the only one whose gaze never strayed in my direction.

The gods who were brought in often looked, no matter their gender, as they informed Kolis of the requests being made at the Sun Temples. Many of their stares were full of curiosity. Some carried the glint of want I was beginning to recognize in Kolis’s eyes.

It was nothing like what I saw in Ash’s gaze. His had been full of want and need, but there had also been tenderness, yearning, and much respect, reverence, and passion. A fondness and devotion that could’ve grown into love if he had his kardia.

The gods’ stares reminded me of my stepbrother’s—full of the desire to consume. To dominate without deference. To have for the sake of having because I’d been prepared to be pleasing to the eye and displayed in a gilded cage.

I hoped their eyes exploded from their heads.

Along with Kolis’s.

The only reason I sat through it all like a quiet, caged bird was because of Ash. The deal. Once Kolis was convinced that I was who I said I was, he would release his nephew. But I needed to be careful. While Primals couldn’t break their oaths, they often found ways to make you regret gaining their promises. There were things Kolis could do while still honoring what he’d pledged. But I couldn’t let myself think about that or allow my imagination to run wild.

Because I realized something as I sat there. I hadn’t been clever enough to clarify what state Ash should be in when he was released.

As Callum would say, I behaved myself as the meetings went on, and Kolis began to change.

He grew tense, fidgety, even. His stares became…more. Longer. Heavier. His grip on the arms of the throne got tighter, the ick-factor of his gaze stronger.

Which was why I ignored Kolis and the leering gods for the most part, so bored out of my mind that I spent an ungodly length of time staring at the cluster of diamonds at the center of the cage bars, wondering why Kolis would even put them there. Like, what was the point? I had no idea.

I learned that each of Kolis’s gods represented different cities within the mortal kingdoms. And every time a new one entered, I paid attention just long enough to learn where they were from. None had come from Lasania.