Emelina Flores. He only heard it in her voice. Saw the way she lifted her chin when she said it, like she was proud of that name and the way she’d fooled him.
The rage burned through his insides so intensely that he could barely feel the sting of the medicine as the doctor treated a cut above his eyebrow.
“I told you to stay calm!” his mother yelled. “Not go chasing off after her!” She stood next to the painting of the real Mary, her face bright red with fury. His father was in a chair next to Cas, a blank expression on his face. He would grip the arms of the chair every minute or so, like his anger was about to burst out of him.
“She was escaping,” he said through clenched teeth. She had gotten away. He could have chased her down, but he’d run after them without a sword, and Iria and Emelina each had one.
That was the excuse he told everyone, anyway. The truth was he’d been rooted to the ground as soon as she stared at him with those wide, sad eyes.
Why had she looked so sad?
The doctor finished treating his wound and quickly scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Cas leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He was such an idiot for not grabbing his sword before chasing after her. Though he hadn’t thought he’d need a sword today to chase down his wife as she attempted to escape.
He let out an almost hysterical laugh, and both his parents regarded him like he’d lost his mind. He had, maybe.
A knock sounded on the door, and one of the king’s guards opened it. “The other two Olso warriors are gone, along with Aren.”
His father waved the guard away, and the door banged shut as his mother gripped her hair.
“We know where they’re going,” the king said in an oddly calm voice.
“To Olivia?” Cas guessed.
“Yes. I’ll send soldiers down that way. Add extra security to the building. We’ll catch them before they get anywhere near her.”
“Just kill Olivia,” his mother spat. “Send word to have her executed immediately.”
Something twisted inside Cas as he watched his mother’s face contort with anger. “She hasn’t done anything,” he said.
“I think you lost all right to have an opinion about the Ruined when you told Emelina Flores where her sister was,” the king said.
Cas jumped to his feet. “Who ordered me to marry her?” His yell echoed across the room, making his mother jump.
His father’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing.
“Cas,” his mother said, her voice gentle. She put a hand on his arm, but he shook her off.
“If there’s anyone to blame in this situation, it’s you,” Cas yelled, his glare fixed on his father. “You ordered the murder of thousands of innocent people, and now you’re surprised when one of them—”
“Innocent?” his father roared, practically leaping out of his chair. “The Ruined are not innocent!”
“What crime did Damian commit? What did the rest of them do?”
“She got into your head,” his father said in digust. “You let Emelina feed you these ideas—”
“I’m not an idiot,” Cas said sharply. “She didn’t need to feed me any ideas.”
“And so you blame me. It’s my fault Emelina Flores pretended to be your wife.”
Cas spread his arms wide. “I see no one else to blame. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t started a war with the Ruined. Now I’m married to one of them.” His stomach clenched as he said the words, and he turned away, afraid his face would give away too many emotions.
“You’re no longer married to her,” his mother said, like that solved everything. “It’s not binding.”
He rolled his eyes as he faced them again. “Really? Because you say so?”
“Yes!” his father interjected. “She lied about her identity! We will have it declared illegal.”
“Our souls are bound until death.” He repeated the words the priest had said, just to make his father angry.
It worked. The king smashed his hand against the painting, sending it toppling to the ground. “Then I will kill her myself!”
Cas’s first instinct was to yell No! He said nothing instead.
“Your father is right,” the queen said, in a much calmer voice than her husband. “This marriage isn’t legal. We’ll take care of it.”
Cas shrugged. Whether he was still married to Emelina mattered less than what he’d shared with her and how he felt about her and how much he currently wanted to tear her apart with his bare hands.
Why had she looked so sad?
“Perhaps we could arrange something else for you,” his father said in a suddenly optimistic tone. “The governor of the southern province has a daughter. She was our second choice, after Mary.”
“You must be joking,” Cas deadpanned.
“She’s lovely. Much prettier than Emelina.”
“You. Must. Be. Joking,” he repeated, slower. His parents were insane if they thought he was ever letting them choose his wife again.