by Amy Tintera
He turned left, in the direction of his father’s rooms. Sometimes the royal couple shared the rooms to the left, leaving the other rooms for special guests or children. But his parents had never shared a bedroom, as far as Cas knew.
He walked through the room that served as his father’s closet and dressing room and pushed open the door to the bedroom.
The curtains had been left open, bathing the room in orange light. Cas’s eyes skipped over the dresser, the wardrobe, the chair in the corner with a book open on top of it. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Something to take with him? Something to remember his father by other than this legacy of death and war?
Maybe he shouldn’t take anything at all. Was he allowed to miss someone who had destroyed so many lives? Was he allowed to remember the good things?
He walked to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. There were cuff links and tie clips and a few other things inside, but nothing special. The second drawer was bigger, and Cas pushed aside some scarves to find a stack of leather-bound notebooks.
He pulled one out. He was almost certain his father wouldn’t have kept journals—deep self-reflection wasn’t his father’s specialty—and he opened to find that he was right. They were sketches—of the castle, people Cas didn’t know, and a younger version of his mother. He’d often seen his father doodling in these notebooks when Cas was younger. He said it relaxed him.
Cas found several sketches of himself, as a baby, then as a toddler, then at about age five. He was chubby-cheeked and smiling in the latter, and though it was just a pencil sketch, he looked very much like he did in the professional paintings they had hanging around the castle.
The pages were blank after that. His father must have given up the hobby at that point.
Cas grabbed all the sketchbooks, five in total, and tucked them under his arm. He didn’t have the strength to search through all of them right now, but maybe he’d find some one day.
He went to his mother’s room next. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air, and the smell brought such powerful memories with it that he had to stop in the doorway for a moment. He closed his eyes and took in a few shaky breaths.
When the urge to crumple to the floor had passed, he stepped inside. His mother’s room was more cluttered—bottles and creams spread across several surfaces, four different books open and scattered across the room, and various pieces of clothing tossed on chairs.
He knew what he wanted of his mother’s, and he found it in one of the dresser drawers. It was her warrior pin, something she’d kept despite her obvious disdain for her home country. He also took a necklace and a ring he knew had been gifts from her parents when she was young. He tucked them into his pocket and quickly walked out of the room.
Relief flooded his veins as he headed for the door leading out of the royal suite. He’d been avoiding that for so long, and now he wished he’d done it earlier, just to get it over with.
He stepped out of the suite and into the castle hallway to find Galo waiting with the guards. Cas looked at him in surprise, some of the tension leaving his chest at the sight of his friend.
“You’re back,” Cas said.
“Just now.” Galo’s eyes skipped to the sketchbooks in Cas’s arm. He murmured to the other guards that they could leave.
“Are you going to stop having them follow me around everywhere? It’s really not necessary in the castle,” Cas said as they walked away.
“I’ll ask them to back off now that we’re settled.” Galo glanced at the doorway behind Cas. “Is everything all right?”
“They’re cleaning it out tomorrow.” He gestured to the notebooks. “Just picking up a few things.”
Galo squinted at him, because Cas hadn’t really answered the question.
“How was the trip home?” Cas asked, turning and walking in the direction of his rooms.
“Fine. Odd. I need to talk to you, when you have a chance.” He said the last sentence in a rush, like he needed to get it out quickly.
“I have a chance now,” Cas said.
Cas led them to his sitting room, and dropped the sketchbooks on a table. He’d find another spot for them soon. Preferably somewhere he didn’t have to look at them.
He sank into a chair and gestured for Galo to sit across from him.
“I’d like to resign as captain of the guard,” Galo blurted out.
Silence followed that statement. Cas could hear the clock ticking behind him. “What?”
Galo clasped his hands together, his face more nervous than Cas had ever seen. “I’d like to resign as captain. And I’d like to leave the guard entirely, if you’ll allow it.”
“Why?” Panic flared in Cas’s chest. Both of his parents were dead, his cousin had fled—she was probably plotting to kill him right this moment—and the girl he loved could only send messages to him through random maids she rescued. Galo was one of the only people he had left.
“I’m not qualified to be your captain,” Galo said. “You only gave me the position because we’re friends. There were dozens of other guards who would have been more qualified.”
“Not anymore,” Cas pointed out. A good number of guards were killed when Olso invaded the Lera castle. Many more were killed at the battle of Fort Victorra. They were in the process of recruiting more men and women to train.
“There are still plenty who are more qualified,” Galo said. “I’d be happy to give you suggestions.”
“Don’t you think that knowing me well makes you the most qualified?” Cas asked.
“No. I think it’s a hindrance, actually.”
“How so?”
“I’m concerned with what you want. I let you sneak out of the castle—”
“That was a different time,” Cas said. A safer time.
“Still, our friendship is not helpful to your safety. Obviously. You’ve recently been stabbed, poisoned, and taken an arrow in the shoulder.”
“You weren’t there for the arrow,” Cas said.
“Because I lost you.”
“I don’t think we can reasonably blame you for Olso invading Lera.”
“I was there for the stabbing and the poison.” Galo raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
Cas let out a dramatic sigh and slumped back in his chair. “You’re one person. You can’t take all the blame.”
“I’m not a good captain, Cas. I’m inexperienced. You need the best right now. It’s the perfect time to change leadership, when we’re putting the castle back together.”
A little voice nagged at Cas, whispering that it was true. He had given the position to his friend. It was only weeks ago when they rode through the jungle and Cas offered him the job, but it felt like a lifetime. He was rebuilding his guard, and perhaps a change wasn’t the worst idea.
“But you want to leave the guard entirely?” Cas asked.
“It doesn’t feel like the right place for me.” Galo clasped and unclasped his hands. “Honestly, I’ve never really liked being a guard. I joined because I didn’t have many other options, and then I stayed because of you.”
“Oh,” Cas said, suddenly feeling very stupid that he hadn’t known that. He’d assumed Galo wanted to be captain of his guard. He’d never even asked.
“I still want to help, though,” Galo said. “I just don’t think that the guard is the best place for me.”
“Is there something you’d rather do?” Cas asked. “I have a lot of open positions at the moment.” He smiled when he said it, but there was no humor in his voice.
“I will go wherever you would like me. I could join the soldiers, maybe. At least until we resolve the Olivia situation. I’m good with a sword.”
“Maybe.”
“In the meantime I can go to one of the shelters. I won’t take up the guards’ quarters.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll have a room made up for you. How about Jovita’s old room?”
“No, that not nec—”
“Don’t argue.” Cas s
aid it firmly, and Galo snapped his mouth shut. “I’m actually quite eager to give that room away.” He was still waiting to hear an answer about Jovita poisoning him, but the flare of anger still accompanied the thought of her. “Think about what you’d like to do. And come up with a few names for your replacement. You’ll need to continue your duties until I’ve picked someone.”
“Of course.”
“And if you change your mind, you’re always welcome back on the king’s guard.”
“Thank you.” He said it stiffly, like it was an automatic response, not an option he would actually consider.
“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I feel like I should have known that you didn’t like it.”
“That’s ridiculous. There’s no way for you to know if I didn’t tell you.”
“Well, true.” Cas laughed even though he still felt stupid. “Did something happen with your parents that made you want to leave now?”
“No . . . yes . . . I don’t know.” Galo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “My father isn’t usually proud of me, and he suddenly was, over something that I knew wasn’t right for me. It made the decision easier.”
Cas blinked, a little taken aback. “Your father isn’t usually proud of you?”
“No. I never did that well in school, which was something he really valued. He saw my joining the guard as a last resort.”
“Was it?”
“No. Staying in Mareton and working at the mill or in the fields was the last resort. Being a guard was several steps before last resort. And he knew that. He just didn’t like making things easy for me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Cas realized suddenly that Galo knew everything about Cas’s family, but Cas knew very little about his. “But now that you have his approval, you’re going to give it up?”
“Well, it turns out I never wanted his approval.” Galo gave him a sad smile. “I know you understand that.”
“Yes.” Cas leaned his head back with a sigh. “I really do.”
SEVEN
“THERE’S STILL TIME to change your mind.”
Galo dropped a shirt into his bag and looked up. Mateo stood in the doorway of his room, his arms crossed over his chest. He was off duty and wearing an old gray shirt that was frayed at the sleeves but clung nicely to his lightly muscular frame. Galo had always liked that shirt.
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Galo said. He’d lost track of how many times he’d said that over the past few days. It wasn’t just Mateo; the guards, the staff—they all thought he’d change his mind about leaving the guard.
Mateo blew out an annoyed breath. “Did they even find a new captain yet? Why are you moving out?”
“Cas is finishing the interviews tomorrow. And I’m not moving out, I’m just going upstairs.” He pulled the string tight on his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He didn’t have much. He wore the clothes issued to the guard most of the time, and he’d brought very little from home. “You want to come with me?”
“I guess,” Mateo grumbled, but a smile twitched at his lips as Galo took his hand and pulled him into the hallway.
Galo walked quickly away from the guards’ quarters, hoping to not make a big scene. He knew half of the guards were happy to see him go, the other half angry he was deserting them. He didn’t want to run into either at the moment.
He walked up the stairs and down the sunny hallway with Mateo. The door to Jovita’s old sitting room was open, and Galo stepped inside.
Jovita had four rooms—a sitting room, an office, a bedroom, and a small bathing area. Galo had never been inside, and he walked slowly through all four rooms. They were huge, rooms fit for the woman who had been second in line to the throne, after Cas. Galo still felt weird about taking them. It felt like these rooms should go to someone important.
Mateo was perched on the edge of the bed when Galo walked back into the room. He pointed to the table in the corner of the room where a tray of tea and pastries had been placed. “They even brought you a snack.”
Galo dropped his bag on the bed. “I still can’t believe Cas gave me this room.”
“Of course he did. It’s a family room.” Mateo flopped onto his back. “So what now?”
Galo sat down beside Mateo. It was a good question. He’d still be working as a guard for a few more weeks, to make sure everything ran smoothly for the new captain, but after that, he had no idea. He wasn’t trained to do anything but guard the royal family, something he’d never particularly liked. And it turned out he wasn’t even good at it.
“Did you write to your father?” Mateo asked.
“Yes. I wrote to both my parents and told them I was resigning from the guard.” He glanced at Mateo, who just stared at him. They both knew he could have told them in person, but Galo had chickened out.
“You don’t have to prove anything, Galo,” Mateo said quietly. “No sensible person blames you for what happened to Cas. He’s still alive because you realized so quickly that he’d been poisoned.”
“I’m not looking to prove anything.” It came out like the lie it was. “Can we stop talking about it?”
Mateo quickly sat up and got to his feet, annoyance written all over his face. “I’m going to go back downstairs.”
Galo grabbed Mateo’s belt loop and pulled him closer, until his legs bumped against Galo’s knees. “I’m sorry. Don’t go.” He hooked his finger into the other belt loop. “I finally have a room of my own.” The tiny two-person rooms were his least favorite part of being a guard, especially since meeting Mateo. He used to have a strict no-dating policy, since it was near impossible to sustain a relationship in that environment. But then Mateo had come along and all his old rules had gone out the window.
Mateo moved a little closer, putting one of his hands on Galo’s neck. “I’m worried you’re going to leave,” he said quietly.
“Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. But if you’re not on the guard you don’t have to stay here and . . .” He shrugged, his eyes downcast.
Galo tilted his head up, brushing his lips against Mateo’s. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
Em sat on her porch, watching the sun come up over the trees. She’d woken earlier than usual and peeked into Olivia’s bedroom to find her sister still sleeping. Olivia looked young and innocent asleep, and it reminded Em of mornings at home, when she’d run into her sister’s room and jump on her bed to wake her up.
Em got to her feet and stepped off the porch. She walked slowly down the quiet road, the weight in her chest increasing with every step.
Olivia had come back from her trip to Fayburn happy and smug. Em hadn’t asked. She knew everyone was dead.
She had a meeting with the Ruined shortly, and she’d spent all day yesterday trying to figure out what she was going to say to them. They all knew she hadn’t been able to stop Olivia from going to Fayburn yesterday—that she hadn’t even tried.
“Em.”
She looked up with a start to find Ivanna standing in the grass in front of a small home. Her gray hair was braided and she was already fully dressed, despite the early hour.
“Are you headed to the meeting? It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” Ivanna asked.
“I was just taking a walk first.”
“Can I join you? I was just about to head out for a walk myself.”
“Sure.”
Ivanna fell into step beside Em, her breathing a little faster and heavier than Em’s. Em listened to it for several minutes in silence.
“Didn’t you use to take walks around the castle with my mother?” Em finally asked.
“Yes. I always get up before dawn, and so did she. We often met and walked through the castle and into town.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing too important. Your mother didn’t trust me.”
Em regarded her with surprise. “She didn’t?”
“Well, she trusted me as much as any Ruined,
but no more than that. She had a small group that she truly trusted. With me, she usually talked about business or you and Olivia. Mostly you and Olivia.”
“Do I want to know what she said about me and Olivia?”
Ivanna tilted her head. “Are you under the impression your mother didn’t like you? That’s not true.”
“No,” Em said softly. “I know she loved me. But sometimes I think about her, and what she expected of me, and it’s too horrifying. I wonder if none of this had happened, if I would have ended up torturing people for her and Olivia, like she planned.”
“That wasn’t her only plan for you. I think she intended to use you to negotiate with Olso. She knew your strengths. I wouldn’t be surprised if things had played out a bit similarly—with a marriage arrangement with August.”
“She would have only let me marry him if we planned to kill him soon after the wedding.”
“Oh, for sure. But she would have gotten what she wanted first.”
Em didn’t know if she would have agreed to marry August for her mother. Maybe, if Cas had never been in the picture. Perhaps she would have married him and they would have conquered Lera together. What a disturbing thought.
“She would never understand, me betraying Olivia,” Em said.
“No,” Ivanna agreed.
Em kicked a rock with the toe of her shoe. “She told me something once. I think it was to make me feel better, about being useless. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
“What’s that?”
“She said that Olivia was going to be the most powerful Ruined queen ever. The most powerful Ruined, period. But I was the only one who had power over Olivia.”
Ivanna looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to go on.
“Because Olivia can’t hurt me. Or control me. She can control humans, and even other Ruined, if she really puts her mind to it. But not me.”
“True,” Ivanna said.
“And that means . . . that means I could kill her. It would be easy for me to kill her. She doesn’t use a sword and none of her strength is physical. I know that everyone knows that.” Her words came out in a rush. She’d thought over and over about all the ways she could stop Olivia, and she kept coming back to the obvious—she could kill her.
