A sigh rolled through her body, and she nodded so enthusiastically he almost laughed. He’d never had sex with anyone, and doing it for the first time with a girl who looked as if she might vomit sounded miserable.
“May I ask a favor, though?” he asked. “Do you mind if I stay in here for a little while? I’d like my parents to think we consummated the marriage. We’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.” He could only imagine the comments from his father. He’d never live it down.
“Of course,” she said. “That’s a good idea, actually.” She gestured to the chair in the corner of the room, and he shrugged out of his coat as he walked over. He draped it on the back of the chair and sat down. She perched on the edge of the bed, rubbing her thumb over the necklace she always wore.
“You seemed to get along very well with that warrior. Iria,” he said, and she nodded. “What did you talk about?”
“Vallos. Her journey here. She’s nervous about how negotiations will go.”
“I don’t think Olso warriors get nervous,” he said with a laugh.
“Anxious, then. Not everyone is as tough as they appear, you know.”
“And not everyone is as weak as they pretend.” He sat back and cracked a knuckle.
“Are you referring to me?” she asked quickly.
“No, actually. It’s something my mother always says.”
“Oh.”
“Were you pretending to be weak?” he asked. “Because I’d hate to see you at full strength.”
Mary laughed loudly, without a hint of self-consciousness. She let go of something deep inside of her when she laughed.
“No,” she said. “I certainly have never had to pretend to be weak. But your mother is right. There’s a benefit to being underestimated.”
“I suppose there is. My father underestimated you at the Union Battle, that’s for sure. He didn’t even hide his surprise well.”
“Your father thinks there is no one greater than himself,” she muttered, then seemed to immediately realize what she had just said. She took in a sharp breath, her gaze snapping to his. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t—”
He burst out laughing. “Do you not like my father? Everyone loves my father.”
“Um . . .” She seemed to be searching for the right lie.
“You can tell me the truth,” he said, resting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward. “We can have some secrets just between us.”
She hesitated, then finally said, “No,” barely above a whisper. “I’m not fond of him.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“It’s like he’s always putting on a show.”
“How do you mean?”
“He’s always smiling. And being friendly.” She wrinkled her nose, her lips turning downward in the most hilarious expression he’d ever seen. It was like she was both disgusted and annoyed.
Cas rested his chin in his hand, thoroughly amused. “I hate it when people are friendly. It’s terrible.”
“No, I mean . . .” She laughed. “It doesn’t feel genuine. It feels like an act. Like it’s hard to tell who he really is?”
“Ah.”
“Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense.” He held her gaze, a warm feeling invading his chest. Perhaps it was wrong to be delighted that she didn’t worship his father like the rest of the world. But he couldn’t help it.
“And your parents?” he asked softly.
Something in her expression shifted. “What about them?”
“What were they like?”
She grasped her necklace, thinking for a moment before answering. “My father was quiet. Everyone listened when he talked, because he didn’t do it very often.” She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “My mother was the exact opposite. My father used to say that she needed an audience, which was why she married him. He was always her audience.”
“Sounds like your mother and my father would have gotten along.”
Mary tilted her head, pressing her lips together. “In a way, I think they would have. But my mother . . . she had a certain darkness to her. She could go from happy to furious very quickly. Your father seems to have a better handle on his emotions than my mother did.”
A long silence followed her words. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “That they’re gone.”
“Thank you,” she said, without much feeling, like she’d given that response a thousand times. She was silent for several seconds, staring at him like she was mustering up the courage to ask something. “Why did you want to talk about the Ruined?” she asked.
“I’m curious. People don’t talk about them much here.”
“Your father is engaged in a war with them.”
“There are no Ruined in Lera. It’s easy to pretend they don’t exist.”
“Not even Olivia Flores?” she asked. “Your father took her prisoner, didn’t he?”
“I don’t think she’s in Lera. If she is, she’s far away.”
“You don’t know where?”
He shook his head. “She was moved recently.”
Mary twisted her lips around, looking at the wall past him.
“You disagree?” he asked. “With keeping her prisoner?”
She looked at him sharply. “I didn’t say that.”
Her tone held more fervor than he was expecting. “Do you agree then?”