Standing before the king was nothing new for Cas, but he could tell Iris was feeling pressured beside him. The tension in the air was so thick, it could have been cut with a knife. With no memories of the ruler of Aspiria nor any recollection about proper behavior to display in his presence, all she had to go on were the few brief pointers had been able to scramble together before his father had arrived. And it was only too late that he realized his list had been woefully incomplete.

The prince glanced discreetly at Iris when the monarch addressed her, biting the inside of his cheek as he noticed that he had forgotten to tell her to bow or curtsey or do [i]something[/i] to show a sign of outward respect, since it was unlawful not to. In the presence of the soldiers, she would have to call him by unnecessary titles, but there were even more mandates in place that dictated how she could interact with the king. He hoped his father would take mercy on her, since she had only just left the hospital that morning.

However, it turned out that he was fretting for nothing because in the next moment, she surprised him by leaning forward in the deepest bow she could manage in her injured state. He blinked and looked away again, internally relieved that her amnesia hadn’t stolen away all her knowledge about how to address the royal family. His father seemed to be pleased as well. The king was not an expressive man, but his son knew him well enough to catch sight of the subtle movement in his jaw as he unclenched his teeth.

As for her answer to his question, the reaction was harder to gauge. Cas wasn’t sure what his father was trying to pull by asking her which family she belonged to when she couldn’t even remember her last name. He had a feeling it was a test of some sort though. The king was cunning by anyone’s measurement, and he was one of the most distrusting people the prince had ever known. If he had to take a guess, Atlas was probably skeptical about her condition and intended to throw curveball questions at her to see if he could break her act. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. If that really was the case, he was going to be sorely disappointed when he discovered that she was just a normal girl who’d hit her head.

“Nonsense. You aren’t imposing on anything,” his father said dismissively.

[color=#b97703][i]Bullshit,[/i][/color] Cas thought, reflecting on how persistent he’d had to be to convince the king to let her anywhere near the mansion.

“Come,” Atlas turned toward the table in the nearby dining room where their plates had been set up by the wait staff.  “I am eager to get to know you over dinner and drinks, Iris.”

While his father’s back facing them, Cas shot Iris a helpless look and shrugged his shoulders before following him over to the table. The king took up the seat at the head, and the prince stood behind the chair on his right, waiting for the monarch to settle down comfortably before he did so as well. The rules weren’t as strict among the members of the royal family—the soldiers would sooner be executed than they would arrest the heir to the throne for something as petty as disregarding etiquette—but he didn’t want to earn any scolding looks from his father for ignoring protocol.

The other utensils had been set up across from him on Atlas’s left.

On the table were three plates covered by metal domes to conserve the dishes’ heat. Cas could smell buttery shellfish underneath. He shot his father a bemused look. Atlas was supposed to be eating light meals to keep from upsetting his stomach while he was on medication, but it seemed like his pride wouldn’t allow him to serve anything less than the best while there was a guest in their home.

The king removed his dome first and picked up his fork and knife, digging in to a steaming lobster tail. “So, Iris,” he mused. “Caspian told me he found you in the woods. What were you doing outside the capital in the middle of the night?”