Ruined (Ruined, #1)(36)
She shook her head, blinking back tears as she pulled her arm away from him. His fingers left a trail of warmth down her skin, and the rage boiled over, screaming to be released.
“You talk about death here as if it’s an achievement,” she spat. “Like it’s something to be celebrated.”
“Sorry?” His eyebrows knitted together.
“Your father started all of this,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, almost against her will. “He marched into Ruina and murdered their queen and everyone else in sight. He solicited help from the king and queen of Vallos and then didn’t send Lera soldiers to protect them from the inevitable retaliation from the Ruined. You act like things are so beautiful and peaceful and wonderful here with your cheese bread and fancy clothing and beaches, but it’s all built on the backs of the people you murdered.”
She took in a slow, shaky breath. She wanted to grab the words and shove them back in.
“Bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with a frown.
“Hypocritical how?”
“You killed the Ruined king in order to marry me. Doesn’t that make you the same as him?”
She almost snapped that she hadn’t killed anyone to marry him, though that was a lie. She’d killed Mary.
“That’s different,” she said, and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “It is! The Ruined were invading Vallos, and your father said they would only help if I helped them. I did what I had to do to survive.”
“Maybe my father also did what he thought he had to do,” Cas said, his voice rising. “Why is it different for you?”
“It just is!” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“Forgive me if I’m not convinced by that argument.” He rolled his eyes.
“Are you really comparing your father murdering thousands of people to me—”
“Why is it that you get to set the rules for what is justified and what’s—”
“I am not setting the rules!” she yelled. “I am saying that—”
“That what you did is acceptable,” he interrupted. “But when it comes to my father, he’s a murderer worthy of contempt.”
“Fine!” She spread her arms wide. “I’m a monster. Is that what you want to hear? I’ve murdered people, and, if you want to know the truth, I’m not the least bit sorry. They had it coming.”
Cas had his mouth open like he was going to yell again, but he closed it, hesitating for a moment. “I wasn’t saying you’re a monster,” he said, his voice calmer.
She pushed her hands through her hair, a sick feeling clawing up her stomach. Maybe it was a lie to say she wasn’t the least bit sorry. She thought about Mary sometimes. About that piece of hair dragging through the dirt as her dead body disappeared into the night. She wasn’t sorry Mary was dead, but she wasn’t totally comfortable that she’d been the one to kill her.
The door swung open and the king stepped through, turning a glare from Cas to Em. “What are you two yelling about out here? A staff member told me you were screaming.”
“It’s fine,” Cas said quickly.
“I hope you’re educating your new wife about how we treat guests in Lera.” He jabbed a finger at her. “I expect you to at least be nice.”
“Nice?” she scoffed. “You ordered me to kill someone in exchange for marrying your son, put me into a battle as soon as I arrived, and between murderous hunters and Olso warriors who might be plotting something, I’ve rarely felt safe since I set foot in this castle. Nice isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
The king turned so red he was almost purple, but he seemed incapable of getting words out. He sputtered, jabbed a finger at Cas for no apparent reason, and stomped back into the ballroom.
A sound like a laugh came from Cas. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father rendered speechless before.”
“I should yell at him more often, then,” she muttered. “He could stand to be speechless occasionally.”
Cas laughed, clearing his throat like he was trying to hide it. He painted a more serious expression on his face. “I’m sorry my father asked you to kill the Ruined king to marry me. I objected, if that makes any difference to you.”
“It does. But I don’t agree with what your father did in Ruina. You’ll never convince me that he was right about that.”
“I don’t disagree,” he said, startling her. He stared at the floor, rubbing at something with the tip of his shoe. “He got me out of bed last night, to see the Ruined when they brought him in. I’d never seen a Ruined before.”
“And?” she prompted, expecting a fresh wave of anger. But the way his shoulders had curled in and his face had rearranged itself into a frown made her hesitate, made her want to hear what he had to say.
“And . . . it was impressive. And scary.” He glanced at her. “When you killed a Ruined, would you provoke them to use their powers first? To weaken them? Is that how you killed the Ruined king? What was his power?”
“He ruined the soul. Could make you see visions and believe things that weren’t true.” She swallowed, the image of her dead father flashing across her vision. “And no, I didn’t. I just snuck up on him. Attacked before he could react.”