The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

friend? Or did he still believe that Beckett had been involved
in the attack? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t believe that
Quentyn had been involved. He wouldn’t be standing here if
he were.
Casteel’s cool amber gaze shifted to the young
Atlantian, but before he could speak, Quentyn dropped to
one knee, bowing his golden head before us. “I’m sorry,” he
said, his voice carrying a slight tremor. “I did not know what
Beckett was going to do. If I had, I would’ve stopped—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I spoke, unable to
allow the young Atlantian to carry guilt that was so very
wrongly placed. I realized that the others must not have
learned what had truly happened. “Beckett was guilty of
nothing.”
“But he…” Quentyn lifted his head, his golden eyes wet.
“He led you to the Chambers and—”
“That wasn’t him,” Casteel explained. “Beckett
committed no crime against Penellaphe or me.”
“I don’t understand.” Confusion and relief echoed
through the Atlantian as he rose unsteadily to his feet.
“Then where has he been, Your Highness—I mean, Casteel?
Is he with you?”
My hand squeezed Casteel’s as the muscle in his jaw
ticked. “Beckett never left Spessa’s End, Quentyn. He was
killed by those who conspired with his uncle.”
If the others had any reaction to the young wolven’s
death, I wasn’t sure. All I could feel was the rising tide of
sorrow as it quickly rose in the Atlantian, following a brutal
punch of denial. His pain was so raw and potent that it
exploded into the salty air around us, thickening as it settled
on my skin. I heard Casteel telling him that he was sorry,
and saw Quentyn shaking his head. His pain…it was
extreme, and a distant part of me wondered if this was the
first real loss he’d experienced. He was older than I was,
even though he appeared younger. But by Atlantian years,
he was still so very young. He struggled not to show his