Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “They didn’t catch him, did they?”
“I don’t think so. But I never got a chance to tell him where we were meeting.”
She let out a relieved sigh. It was unlikely anyone would be able to catch Aren, especially now that he was free to use his powers. He would be better off than any of them.
“He’ll head straight for Fort Victorra,” she said. “We can meet him there.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” Iria asked. “The king will assume you’re headed that way, and he’s going to send an army to hunt you down.”
“What’s my other option?”
“You can join Benito on our ships. Koldo and I will make sure the warriors at the fortress rescue Olivia.”
“No. I’m going.”
“I figured,” Iria said. “Koldo and I will be going with you. We’ve instructed a few warriors to meet us with supplies and horses in the jungle.”
“Thank you.” Em regarded the warriors suspiciously. Rescuing Olivia had never been part of their deal. She’d been under the impression that task would be completely up to her. “And after we rescue Olivia?” she asked.
“The king will want to meet you two, of course,” Iria said. “You can accompany us back to Olso.”
There it was. The warriors weren’t helping her so much as keeping tabs on her and Olivia.
“Benito, you’ll go inform our ships we’re moving up the attack,” Iria said.
“To when?” Em asked.
“Tomorrow night,” Iria said. Benito nodded.
Em’s stomach twisted, the fear for Cas immediate and stronger than she would have liked.
Iria gestured at Benito, who pulled the bag off his back and gave it to her. He tossed Em his coat.
Iria dug around inside the bag, producing a canteen. She held it out to Em. “That’s yours. You’re very welcome.”
“Thank you,” she said, and actually meant it. She’d be much better off with two warriors than she would be on her own.
And if Iria tried to force her to go to Olso after they rescued Olivia, she’d deal with that when the time came.
TWENTY-FOUR
CAS STRETCHED OUT on the couch in his library, folding his hands behind his neck. He’d had all his bedding thrown out and replaced with entirely new linens, but his bed still reminded him of her. Mary had left her presence in every corner of his life, but she’d left the biggest one in his bed, even after only one night.
Emelina, he corrected himself, trying to push the image of her out of his head. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about her, but she wriggled into his brain at every possible moment. He could think of nothing else.
His parents had stopped all the summer activities, and the castle had been eerily quiet all day. The staff edged around him like they were afraid he was going to explode. He was used to making people uncomfortable, but this was something new and much worse. They pitied him.
He hated her. He hoped she’d tripped on one of her stupid dresses and broken something and was now hobbling around in terrible pain.
A wave of guilt followed the thought. He cursed himself for it.
I don’t think this is who I want to be.
The words had been so sincere, and they were all he could think of. He’d spent most of the day trying to sort through what had been real. He’d known a little bit of the real Emelina, he was sure of it.
The night in her bedroom had been real. When she described her mother as powerful and angry, and her father as her quiet audience, that was the real Emelina. It fit with what Cas knew about Wenda Flores and her husband.
Everything she’d said about the Ruined had been real. She hadn’t even tried to hide her sympathy for them.
But she’d said she was an only child. She said it was lonely, when in reality she had Olivia.
Or she did, before Cas’s father took Olivia and locked her away.
He moaned as another wave of guilt washed over him. How had she managed to even look him in the eye? He’d known Olivia was locked up, and it had never even occurred to him to inquire about her before Emelina mentioned it. No wonder she’d seemed miserable on their wedding day.
But . . .
You’re not dumb, you’re not naive, you’re not any of the things they try to make you out to be. She didn’t have to say that to him. She didn’t have to come to his room and sleep in his bed. He’d given her plenty of space, and she’d come to him repeatedly.
Was he an idiot to think she’d grown to care for him? Was it wishful thinking?
A knock sounded at the door, and Galo stuck his head in a moment later. “May I come in?”
Cas sat up and the guard eased onto the couch next to him.
“Are you drunk?” Galo asked.
“Do I look drunk?”
“No. But your mother said you probably were.”
“My mother is the one who deals with her sadness by getting drunk.”
Though it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe he’d do that later.
“I’m sorry,” Galo said quietly.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”