Ruined (Ruined, #1)(50)
His father started pacing at a speed that made Cas dizzy. “You need to stay calm.”
“I’m calm.” He was too dazed to be anything but.
“No, we have an idea of who she is, and we need you to remain calm when we tell you,” his mother said.
“She was upset about that Ruined prisoner,” his father said, pacing even faster. “It made no sense for her to be that upset about him dying.”
“She thought the punishment was—”
“Quiet,” his mother snapped.
“She handles a sword better than almost anyone.” His father let out a hollow laugh. “And we all know Vallos soldiers aren’t well trained. Even a royal isn’t that good.”
Cas looked blankly at his father. Whatever the king was getting at, Cas hadn’t picked it up yet.
“And then she asked you where Olivia was. Didn’t she?”
“Yes.” Cas’s stomach turned over. “She asked again the other day.”
“What did you tell her?” A piece of hair had escaped from his mother’s bun, like even her hair couldn’t handle this situation.
“I—I told her the truth.”
His parents gasped in unison.
The fog in Cas’s brain suddenly cleared. “You think she’s one of the Ruined.”
His father ran a hand over his beard. “Not just any Ruined, because she doesn’t have any marks. She’s the right age, and the hair . . . the eyes . . .”
“What?” Cas was drowning suddenly, unable to breathe or think or move.
“I think that girl is Emelina Flores.”
TWENTY-ONE
EM RAISED HER hand to knock on Cas’s door. She could do this. Maybe. Probably.
She lowered her shaking fist, taking in a deep breath. She had to warn him, even if it meant angering the warriors. She wouldn’t let him die.
“He’s not there, Your Highness.”
Em turned to see Davina standing a few paces away, a half-eaten breakfast tray in her hands.
“He went to see your painting,” Davina said.
“My painting?”
“I—I thought you knew.” The color drained from the maid’s face. “It’s a painting of you and your parents, after all. I just assumed . . .”
Em’s throat tightened. A painting of Mary and her parents. They knew.
She scanned the area for weapons. Nothing.
“Please don’t tell the queen I told you,” Davina begged. “Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise, and if she knew I—”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Em turned on her heel, resisting the urge to break into a run. She didn’t want to alarm the maid.
She turned a corner and almost ran smack into Iria. Panic was etched across the warrior’s face. “The queen has—”
“A painting of Mary, I know,” Em interrupted.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
“I don’t have a weapon or—”
“I have one.” Iria pulled her sword from her belt. “Stay behind me.”
Em looked at her in surprise. “You’re coming with me?”
“Do you really think the king is going to believe we knew nothing about you? We arrived right after you.” Iria leaned around the corner. She jerked her head, indicating it was clear to go.
“We need to get Aren,” Em said.
“Koldo’s getting him. We’re meeting away from the castle.” They reached the top of the stairs, and Iria glanced down at the staff moving around the castle. “I think running is best.”
“It’ll attract attention. Do you know if they’ve all seen the painting yet?”
“No way to know.”
“WHAT?” Cas’s scream echoed through the castle, hoarse and furious. Em’s chest tightened, her heart leaping into her throat. She couldn’t think about him right now.
“Running is best,” Em said, grabbing Iria’s arm. “But not here. Back stairway.”
They sprinted down the hallway and to the staircase, their shoes thumping against the steps as they ran. Em slowed until her feet were almost silent. Iria followed suit, whipping her head around as they reached the ground floor.
Em quietly darted around the corner and pushed open the door to the kitchen. It was empty, and she and Iria raced across the room. She dove outside, squinting as the late afternoon sunlight splashed across her face.
“Which way?” Iria asked. “The front gate is going to be tough.”
“Impossible. There are too many guards.” She pointed to the tree Cas used to sneak out. “There. If we can jump the wall, we’ll only have to deal with one or two guards.”
“Where is she?” The queen’s screeching voice drifted out from a window. “Guards, go! Stop her!”
Iria took off and Em followed close behind, leaping over a bench as she raced for the back wall. The tree loomed in front of her, and she grabbed a branch and launched her body up the tree onto the top of the wall. They’d used a rope to climb down last time, and she swallowed as she judged the distance.
Iria hopped onto the wall beside her, and Em jumped before she could change her mind. She landed on her feet—hard—and she stumbled as pain sliced through her legs. She shook them out, relief coursing through her as she realized she hadn’t broken anything.