Bele snorted.

“At least, I hope not,” I muttered.

“Not all of them are bad, and even Courts like Kyn’s have pockets of communities whose values and beliefs align with the common good,” Rhahar said, his brow pinching. “The Shadowlands is the only Court with one city.”

“But that can now change with life returning to all the land except for the Dying Woods,” Ash interjected.

Rhahar nodded. “But when it comes to the other Courts, they each have a capital—the largest city within the Court—where the Primal usually takes up residency. For example, the island of Hygeia is the most populated of the Triton Isles and that is where Phanos lives. But the other islands are also populated and either ruled by a trusted god, one who has curried favor, or someone who took out their competition.”

My brows rose.

“It’s a coveted spot in many of the Courts. The gods overseeing the smaller cities or islands often turn them into mini fiefdoms. Some are ruled justly and others cruelly,” Saion explained. “It’s been a while since I was in Phanos’s Court,” he continued, glancing at Rhahar. “I personally don’t have an issue with the smaller cities of the Triton Isles, but from what I’ve heard, Phanos has taken more of a laissez-faire approach.”

“As long as the other islands don’t stir Kolis’s ire and, therefore, cause Phanos to pay a blood tithe,” Rhahar added.

Frowning, I turned to Ash. He nodded as he said, “You must not have seen that occur while you were there.” He leaned over and picked up the pitcher. “In the mortal realm, when a citizen overseen by a noble displeases the crown, the crown often seeks a monetary tithe if the offense was not a significant crime. Not Kolis. He has no need of coin.”

“I get it.” Anger stirred, and Reaver nudged my hand again. I rubbed him under his chin. “What of the other Courts?”

“Embris definitely doesn’t take a hands-off approach,” Theon stated. “He rules the entirety of his Court with a strict hand.”

“Why do I have a feeling that’s not a good thing?” I said, my thoughts flashing to Penellaphe.

Ash topped off my glass. “Embris is what one would call a traditionalist.”

My brows shot up. “A traditionalist? Wouldn’t that mean he should have stood against Kolis?”

“He did at first,” Ash said. “Or he tried to. It did not end well for him.”

Gods.

“You say traditionalist,” Lailah commented. “I was thinking of a different word that starts with the same letter. Tyrant. He or one of his trusted gods oversees everything from when his subjects awaken to when they go to sleep.”

“The only place his rule does not reach is Lotho—the highest peak of Mount Lotho to be exact,” Rhain said. “That is where the Fates and the oneirou are.” He frowned. “Or what is left of the oneirou.”

“A God…of Dreams,” Startled, I glanced at Ash. “Odetta, my nursemaid, used to speak of them—well, she used to say that if I misbehaved, the oneirou would find me in my dreams.”

“Wow,” Saion murmured, his brows raised. “That’s a bit much to tell a child.”

“No shit.” Theon chuckled roughly.

“Odetta was a bit much,” I replied dryly. “But no one else really spoke about the Gods of Dreams. I figured they were extinct or something.”

“Very few would remember them. Like with the Gods of Divination, most were killed when Kolis stole the embers,” Ash explained. “There aren’t many left.”

Gods, Embris’s Court really had taken the brunt of Kolis’s actions, which likely explained why the Primal was so tyrannical. Traditionalist or not, there was no way he would want to continue supporting Kolis.

“But the ones who are still around are powerful. They can move seamlessly in and out of dreams. Controlling them. Causing either pleasant dreams or nightmares while working out whatever information they want from you. They make for good spies that way,” Ash continued.

“The good news is that there are little to no outbreaks of violence like there are within Kyn’s side of Vathi or in Veses’ Court.”

“The bad news is that when one steps out of line—and by stepping out of line, I mean being out past curfew—the punishment is severe,” Theon tacked on.

My jaw clenched. “Great.”

“His Court rarely incites Kolis’s wrath,” Ash shared.

“So, Veses’ Court is a cesspool.” I glanced at Rhain. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He held up his hands. “I claim no ties to that Court.”

“I assume Keella rules fairly?” I said. “As does Attes.”

“Yes,” Lailah confirmed.

Theon opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but Lailah shot her brother a look. “Both have had their rough patches, but they have overcome them and rule fairly while entrusting the oversight of the smaller cities to those who will honor their values.”

“And Maia?” I asked.

“Well,” Bele drawled, and I wanted to bang my head on the table. “She’s not necessarily bad, having spent the last several hundred years more focused on entertaining herself than governing. Some of her cities are rather calm. Others are pretty much a giant org—” She stopped herself as Reaver peered over the top of the table at her. “They are like giant adult parties. Not bad, but not really productive or useful, you know? So, sometimes things get a little heated, and not in a good way. There are lots of jealousy-fueled murders, and they sometimes fail to harvest crops or search for children who wander into the forest.” She squinted. “Or even realize they’re missing.”

“Oh, my gods,” I murmured, rubbing my brow.

“Hey, cheer up!” Bele exclaimed with one of her too-wide smiles. “I’ve heard Maia has gotten better. For example, there are fewer…adult parties.”

Ash laughed as he took a drink.

“Wow.” And here I thought my mother was a bad Queen. “Do I even want to know how bad the cesspool that is Veses’ Court is?”

“Veses rules like Embris one day and Phanos the next,” Ash said. “Her Court is as bad as Hanan’s was.”

Bele sighed.

“No pockets of…goodness?” I asked. “How is that possible?”

“All who had an ounce of morality in them are here.” Rhain shook his head. “The same with Kyn’s Court. Those who disagreed either joined Attes or came here.”

“So, you’re telling me that all those who remain in Veses’ and Kyn’s Courts are…what? A lost cause?” I took in the somber expressions. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t say they are a complete loss,” Ash stated. “Perhaps some can be reached, but when Kolis first took the embers, switching places with my father, it disturbed the balance. Death ruled over life, and life ruled over death. All Primal power has a good and a bad side to it. And with all the Primals being weakened, it made it far easier for them to succumb to the poisonous sides of their natures,” he reminded me. “And then that poison spread to those who served them and the mortals they interacted with. Most of them are not who they once were or were born into a society that embraces that toxicity.”

“I get that. I do. It’s not really their fault, and blah, blah bullshit. Whatever.” Frustration joined the anger as Bele widened her eyes. “We basically only have two Courts that appear to have any sense of a greater good. Then we have one Primal who really doesn’t seem to care about his Court, as long as it doesn’t cause him trouble. Another who rules so strictly the entire Court has a bedtime and punishment for not adhering to such is—”

“Sometimes death,” Rhahar filled in.

Good fucking gods. “Another Court is pretty much a giant adult party with a dash of murderous tendencies, and two more are just complete garbage fires—”

“Don’t forget my Court,” Bele interrupted. “I have about a hundred good ones in Sirta.”

“My apologies.”

Bele smiled and flicked her wrist. “Accepted.”

“So, we have two decent Courts and one really underperforming Court,” I corrected. Bele’s eyes narrowed as I turned to Ash. “That leaves me with just one question.”