They arrived at the ballroom, where the dinner was already in full swing. The hunters sat with the king, queen, and Jovita at the long table in front, and the dance floor was full of laughter and energy as people spun and swayed.
Em watched the hunters carefully as she walked with Cas to the table. She had rarely crossed paths with a hunter who didn’t see the end of her sword, but a few had escaped her. She didn’t recognize any of them, and it was unlikely they would have recognized her either. Not in this dress, with lipstick on and a prince on her arm.
Jovita introduced the four men as Em was seated with Cas on one side and a young hunter named Roland on the other. Roland had only two pins on his jacket, and luckily seemed more interested in draining his wineglass as fast as possible than talking to her.
She took a few sips of her own wine, letting the liquid warm her veins and ignite a fire in her stomach. Aren stood at the far corner of the room, dressed in his Lera guard uniform. His expression was blank, but she knew it was only because he was struggling to keep his emotions under control. He could snap the necks of most of the royal family just by looking at them, and she was tempted to tell him to go for it.
“Cheer up, Roland,” one of the hunters—Willem, she thought—said, clapping the younger hunter on the back.
Roland tipped his wineglass back and wiped a hand across his mouth. “I’m cheerful on the inside.”
Em swallowed down her disgust for all of them and plastered a smile on her face. “How are things out there? The king said the Ruined are trying to cross into Olso?” It was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but it would be helpful to hear the hunters’ perspective. Find out how much trouble the Ruined were in.
“We keep spotting them near the border,” Willem said. “Killed a couple before we heard from the king that he wanted one for questioning.”
“Most are evading us,” Roland muttered.
Willem gave him a sharp look. “We’ll track them down eventually, Your Highness.”
“Are you going back soon?” she asked, hoping the answer was yes.
“We’re off first thing tomorrow,” Willem said. He grabbed a chicken leg as a server put a plate in front of him. “Some of the guards are going to have to take over questioning that Ruined we captured.”
“Better them than us,” Roland muttered.
“You’ll get used to it.” Willem chuckled, and Em glanced down at his rows of pins. Eleven—no, twelve. “I gave the guards a few pointers. Told them to take his whole hand next time, instead of another finger. They start figuring out how many fingers they can get by with, and cutting off a few doesn’t have much of an effect. But taking a whole hand”—he lifted his fist and lowered it quickly, miming chopping off a hand—“that takes them by surprise. Creates real panic so he’ll start talking.”
The room tilted, and she knew she was about to lose control.
No, not about to. It was gone.
“How lovely that you can talk so casually about torturing a fellow man,” she snapped. “You must be so proud of the trail of bodies you’ve left behind you.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cas’s head snap to her. Willem’s smile faded, and Roland muttered something she couldn’t understand, raising his glass in front of him.
She quickly stood, bile rising in her throat. She rushed away from the table so quickly she almost tripped over her dress. She had to hold the material away from her feet as she pushed open the ballroom doors.
“Mary!” Cas called from behind her. Footsteps pounded against the floor, and he was beside her, his fingers lightly wrapping around her arm. “Please wait.”
Her eyes had filled with tears, but she stopped and turned to him anyway. His expression softened. “Are you all right? What did they say to you?”
She shook her head, blinking back tears as she pulled her arm away from him. His fingers left a trail of warmth down her skin, and the rage boiled over, screaming to be released.
“You talk about death here as if it’s an achievement,” she spat. “Like it’s something to be celebrated.”
“Sorry?” His eyebrows knitted together.
“Your father started all of this,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, almost against her will. “He marched into Ruina and murdered their queen and everyone else in sight. He solicited help from the king and queen of Vallos and then didn’t send Lera soldiers to protect them from the inevitable retaliation from the Ruined. You act like things are so beautiful and peaceful and wonderful here with your cheese bread and fancy clothing and beaches, but it’s all built on the backs of the people you murdered.”
She took in a slow, shaky breath. She wanted to grab the words and shove them back in.
“Bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with a frown.
“Hypocritical how?”
“You killed the Ruined king in order to marry me. Doesn’t that make you the same as him?”