Guilt crept into her chest. She couldn’t stop thinking about Olivia’s words—You’re choosing that boy over me, over your people. She knew her sister was just trying to get under her skin, but the words still stung.
Because she had chosen Cas over her sister. And she would do it again. Like Ivanna said, it was bigger than that, bigger than just the two of them, but Em couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him again. She could push thoughts of her sister away when she was in his arms. She didn’t know what kind of person that made her.
She slowly untangled herself from him. “Can you give me a few minutes?”
“Of course.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then climbed out of bed.
He left her to get dressed, and Em found the clothes—her Princess Mary clothes—in the wardrobe. She pulled on pants and a soft blue tunic and tied her hair into a braid.
She found Cas waiting for her in his library, perched on the edge of a chair. They had so much to talk about that she didn’t know where to begin—the Ruined downstairs, Olivia, their marriage, stripping the monarchy of power. But she didn’t want to talk about any of it. So she kissed him instead.
He took in a sharp breath and stood, his fingers finding their way into her hair. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and kissed him like she might not get another chance. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe Olivia would burst through the doors in a minute and kill every last one of them. It happened to Em before. She’d hugged her mother good night and the Lera king broke down the door to the castle not two hours later.
She even considered pushing him back into the bedroom and taking off the clothes they’d just put on. They could lock the door and ignore all the responsibilities waiting on the other side of it for a day.
She pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before stepping away from him. She wouldn’t do that to the Ruined. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to have sex with Cas for the first time now, with this heaviness pressing down on her chest. She suspected she’d just be doing it to feel something besides sadness, and they both deserved better.
“I’m going downstairs to check on the Ruined,” she said. “Am I allowed to wander the castle freely? Are the Ruined?”
“You can go wherever you like. We have Weakling stored in the shed by the stables, so you’ll probably want to tell them to steer clear of that.”
“How much did they find?”
“You’re welcome to go look. The shed is stuffed full of boxes. Floor to ceiling.”
She raised her eyebrows, impressed. “I’ll let them know. We’ll need to get started lining shields and armor with it right away. The other Ruined can’t do it, obviously. I’d like a few soldiers and guards to help me, since they’ll be the ones using it. Can you spare people?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to Jorge and see who’s free.”
“Do you have guards stationed at the shed now?”
“Yes. Two.”
“We may want to take over guarding it.”
He studied her for a moment. “We’ve weeded out everyone who was loyal to Jovita. You can trust my guards.”
She almost laughed. Trust his guards. How ludicrous. “I’m sorry, Cas, but no. I trust you. I trust several of your advisers, in a way. But I don’t trust a large group of humans I don’t know.”
“They’ve sworn to protect me, and I made sure they know that means they protect you, too.”
“It is way too early to expect that sort of loyalty from them,” she said, exasperated. She liked Cas’s optimism most of the time, but he couldn’t expect blind trust from her, and especially not from the other Ruined. “I’m not saying I think they’re going to attack us. But you can’t be sure they’re all completely on your side. You could very well have a spy from Jovita on your guard right now.”
He cracked a knuckle. “I don’t care if the Ruined want to guard it. I would think you’d all want to rest for a while, not spend your time standing in front of a shed, but if that makes you happy, be my guest.”
Annoyance surged in her chest at his sarcastic tone. “Everything isn’t fine now, Cas, and we can’t pretend it is.”
“I know. I really do. But how do you expect the Ruined to trust us if their queen doesn’t?”
“They won’t automatically trust you just because I do. I don’t hold that kind of sway with them.”
“Really?” He lifted his eyebrows in an almost amused way. “Because you got all of them to betray one of the most powerful Ruined ever and sleep in the castle of their former enemy. I think your opinion means everything to them.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t wrong. The Ruined had followed her here even though her plan to stop Olivia had failed. They’d been angry last night, but they were still here. There were no reports of them all fleeing the castle last night.
“You know it’s not in my nature to trust people. I have no reason to,” she said quietly.
He stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. “Em. Of course you have a reason to.”
TWENTY-FIVE
THE UBINOS’ HOUSE was listed in the town registry, which Galo found while Aren waited outside City Hall. They walked east, to a neighborhood full of giant houses.
They stopped in front of number twenty-two, an impressive two-story home with a sweeping balcony upstairs.
“Let’s pretend I’m from Lera as well,” Aren said.
“You don’t think they’ll be accepting of a Ruined?” Galo asked.
“They’re important people in Olso. Their first priority will be protecting Olso. We just attacked them. You, they owe.”
“How do you figure?”
“I don’t know. They attacked Lera. At the very least, they can feel smug.”
“Got it.”
Aren walked up the gravel path that led to the large wooden and stained-glass front doors. He tapped the knocker against the door twice.
A young woman in a gray-and-red uniform answered. “May I help you?”
“We’re looking for Claude and Veronica Ubino,” Aren said. “We’re friends of Iria’s.”
The woman’s face fell. “One moment.” She closed the door.
It didn’t open again for at least a full minute. When it did, a tall, dark-haired woman who looked very much like an older version of Iria stood in front of them.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m Aren, and this is Galo, and we’re friends of Iria’s. We were hoping to speak with you.”
A man appeared behind the woman, his eyes wide.
Iria’s mother took a step closer to them. “You shouldn’t go around claiming to be friends of Iria’s. She’s a traitor.”
Aren’s heart dropped and he slid his hands farther into his pockets, hiding his Ruined marks. He realized suddenly that he’d had high expectations for Iria’s parents. He thought they’d start crying and invite him and Galo inside. He thought they’d be relieved to hear Aren’s side of the story—that Iria had saved his life when the warriors had betrayed the Ruined.
He’d imagined his own parents. They would have stood by Aren no matter what, and he’d wanted that for Iria.
He had to swallow down the lump in his throat before he was able to talk. “We were wondering if perhaps her sentence was too harsh,” he said carefully. “Maybe—”
“Her sentence fit her crime,” Iria’s mother spat. “Don’t come back here. We have nothing to do with that girl anymore.” She slammed the door shut.
Aren and Galo shared a pained look as they turned away from the house. Aren hoped Iria didn’t know how her parents felt.
He heard the door open again and he quickly turned back. Iria’s father stepped outside and jogged to them.
“The appeals won’t work,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice cracking just slightly. “But Bethania Artizo is working on one, if you’d like to talk to her.”
“Who is that?” Aren asked.
“A friend of Iria’s. She’s at Fifteen Grundle Place. Don’t come back here.” He started to turn away.
“Thank you,” Aren said quickly. “She did the right thing, you know.”
Iria’s father took in a shaky breath, nodded once, and strode back toward the house.