“No kidding,” Cas muttered.
Iria ignored him. “If she wants to take Casimir as her prisoner, that’s her choice. She’s earned at least that.”
“I don’t take orders from Ruined,” Miguel said through clenched teeth.
“And they don’t take orders from you,” Iria said.
“I certainly don’t.” Aren emerged from the forest, dropping another armful of branches off for the fire. Miguel spun to face him, arrow still ready to launch.
Miguel’s legs flew out from under him suddenly, the arrow soaring to the sky as his butt hit the ground. Aren strode forward, kicking the bow out of Miguel’s grasp. He grabbed the warrior’s collar, leaning down to bring Miguel’s face in line with his own.
“Point that thing at me again and I’ll crack every one of your ribs in half and pull them out through your belly button.”
Miguel swallowed. Aren shoved him away and straightened. He grabbed the bow and held it out to Iria, some of the anger draining from his face when he looked at her.
“Maybe you should hold on to that.”
She took it with a nod. Aren spun on his heel, walking past Miguel and grabbing the sticks to start arranging them for the fire.
“Thanks,” Em said quietly to Iria.
One side of Iria’s mouth turned up. “Sure.” She glanced back at Cas. “It’s your choice. But if he kills you, I’ll never hear the end of it from those guys.”
“I’ll try to avoid it.”
“Good.” She took a step away, turning to face Em with a smile. “I’d be a little sad if you died.”
“Only a little, huh?”
Iria held up her thumb and pointer finger, leaving a small amount of space between them. “A tiny bit.”
Em laughed, turning back to Cas. The sound died in her throat as soon as she looked at his angry face. “Thank you for not killing me earlier.” She kept her voice low, only for him. “And please understand that if I die, no one else here will hesitate to kill you. I’m on your side.”
His lip curled, and he leaned closer to her. “You have never been on my side. You’re a liar, and a murderer. Maybe my father was right to exterminate every last one of you.”
She stood, clasping her hands behind her back to hide the fact that she was shaking. “He was right to kill my mother and slaughter almost everyone living in the castle? Even the staff? Children?” She cocked her head. “At least he’d be proud to see you’ve turned out the same.”
Em marched away from Cas, blinking away tears.
THIRTY
CAS TRUDGED BEHIND the horses, his hands bound together in front of him. His shoulder ached and burned, but he kept his expression neutral and walked in silence.
Emelina was next to him. Aren and the three male warriors were on the horses, and Iria walked beside them. She kept glancing back at him and Emelina.
He stole a quick look at Emelina. She wore the same dress she’d had on last time he saw her, but now it was smeared with dirt and grime and ripped in places. Her dark hair was pulled back, her expression grim. She’d cleaned his wound and spread some berol root on it without a word, and she’d barely acknowledged his presence since they’d started walking.
Guilt tore through his chest, and he hated her even more for making him feel it. The words had tumbled out of his mouth without him pausing to think about them—maybe my father was right to exterminate every last one of you—and Cas couldn’t stop replaying them in his head.
He hadn’t meant it. He knew, with absolute certainty, that his father had been wrong to kill the Ruined without cause. He’d killed them out of fear, and he’d died because of it. Even if Cas hated Emelina with every fiber of his being, he didn’t blame the entire Ruined species for her actions.
“What happened to the real Mary, Emelina?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“I killed her. When she was on her way to Lera.”
“You just killed her. Without provocation.”
“She killed my father and left his head on a stick for me to find. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t provoked.”
Cas swallowed, determined not to feel sorry for her. But he also didn’t feel particularly sorry he never had the chance to meet the real Mary.
“And it’s Em,” she said, quieter. “Most people call me Em.”
A flash of memory—I was educated at the castle with Em and Olivia—and Cas drew in a breath. “You knew Damian.”
“Yes. He was a friend.”
“And I let you argue to set him free. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. You were kind to him. You don’t know what that meant to me.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. He could have told her that he would do it again, because Ruined didn’t deserve to die simply for being magical, but he wasn’t in the mood to be nice to her. He kept his mouth shut.
“Do you have to walk so close to him?” Iria called over her shoulder. “It makes me nervous.”