Allied (Ruined #3)(51)

Annoyance surged in her chest at his sarcastic tone. “Everything isn’t fine now, Cas, and we can’t pretend it is.”

“I know. I really do. But how do you expect the Ruined to trust us if their queen doesn’t?”

“They won’t automatically trust you just because I do. I don’t hold that kind of sway with them.”

“Really?” He lifted his eyebrows in an almost amused way. “Because you got all of them to betray one of the most powerful Ruined ever and sleep in the castle of their former enemy. I think your opinion means everything to them.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t wrong. The Ruined had followed her here even though her plan to stop Olivia had failed. They’d been angry last night, but they were still here. There were no reports of them all fleeing the castle last night.

“You know it’s not in my nature to trust people. I have no reason to,” she said quietly.

He stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. “Em. Of course you have a reason to.”





TWENTY-FIVE


THE UBINOS’ HOUSE was listed in the town registry, which Galo found while Aren waited outside City Hall. They walked east, to a neighborhood full of giant houses.

They stopped in front of number twenty-two, an impressive two-story home with a sweeping balcony upstairs.

“Let’s pretend I’m from Lera as well,” Aren said.

“You don’t think they’ll be accepting of a Ruined?” Galo asked.

“They’re important people in Olso. Their first priority will be protecting Olso. We just attacked them. You, they owe.”

“How do you figure?”

“I don’t know. They attacked Lera. At the very least, they can feel smug.”

“Got it.”

Aren walked up the gravel path that led to the large wooden and stained-glass front doors. He tapped the knocker against the door twice.

A young woman in a gray-and-red uniform answered. “May I help you?”

“We’re looking for Claude and Veronica Ubino,” Aren said. “We’re friends of Iria’s.”

The woman’s face fell. “One moment.” She closed the door.

It didn’t open again for at least a full minute. When it did, a tall, dark-haired woman who looked very much like an older version of Iria stood in front of them.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I’m Aren, and this is Galo, and we’re friends of Iria’s. We were hoping to speak with you.”

A man appeared behind the woman, his eyes wide.

Iria’s mother took a step closer to them. “You shouldn’t go around claiming to be friends of Iria’s. She’s a traitor.”

Aren’s heart dropped and he slid his hands farther into his pockets, hiding his Ruined marks. He realized suddenly that he’d had high expectations for Iria’s parents. He thought they’d start crying and invite him and Galo inside. He thought they’d be relieved to hear Aren’s side of the story—that Iria had saved his life when the warriors had betrayed the Ruined.

He’d imagined his own parents. They would have stood by Aren no matter what, and he’d wanted that for Iria.

He had to swallow down the lump in his throat before he was able to talk. “We were wondering if perhaps her sentence was too harsh,” he said carefully. “Maybe—”

“Her sentence fit her crime,” Iria’s mother spat. “Don’t come back here. We have nothing to do with that girl anymore.” She slammed the door shut.

Aren and Galo shared a pained look as they turned away from the house. Aren hoped Iria didn’t know how her parents felt.

He heard the door open again and he quickly turned back. Iria’s father stepped outside and jogged to them.

“The appeals won’t work,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice cracking just slightly. “But Bethania Artizo is working on one, if you’d like to talk to her.”

“Who is that?” Aren asked.

“A friend of Iria’s. She’s at Fifteen Grundle Place. Don’t come back here.” He started to turn away.

“Thank you,” Aren said quickly. “She did the right thing, you know.”

Iria’s father took in a shaky breath, nodded once, and strode back toward the house.

Aren watched him go. Maybe Iria’s parents would be secretly relieved when he busted her out of prison. They would never see her again, but at least they would know she wasn’t rotting away in a cell for the rest of her life.

They walked out of the neighborhood and back to the center of town. Galo asked an old man for directions, and he pointed them to a line of small identical homes at the edge of town. There were rows of them, perhaps housing for warriors or other city workers.

They found number fifteen and Aren knocked. A young woman with wild dark curls and a round, cute face answered the door.

“Bethania?” he asked.

She looked him up and down. “Yes?” she said hesitantly.

“We’re friends of Iria’s. We—”

Bethania leaped forward, grabbed Aren’s hand, and yanked it out of his pocket. Her eyes widened as she stared at his Ruined marks.

“Aren?”

He nodded, swallowing down a sudden wave of emotion. Iria had told her about him.