When Iris said she agreed with the king, Cas looked back down at the food on his plate. It was hard for him to listen to her pander to his father when Atlas was being so cold toward her. Having lived in the culture of the monarchy all his life, he knew she was being shrewd by indulging the king’s skepticism—if she openly challenged him, he could have her kicked out or arrested—but that didn’t mean he liked it. His father was being cruel in his accusations. There was no reason for him to frighten her when she had already been through so much. A small piece of him understood that caution was necessary for the royal family, especially with a group of rebels threatening to usurp the throne, but he wished there was a kinder way to go about it.

He exhaled quietly and lifted another forkful of pasta to his mouth. Sometimes he felt like he’d been born into the wrong family. Even when he was a kid, the message had been drilled into him that he needed to be stern and pitiless with everyone in Aspiria or he would be used or betrayed. He had been told to emulate his father, who was the epitome of a worthy leader. However, he’d never been able to detach from his emotions the same way that Atlas could. As much as he tried, he’d always had an empathetic heart and a bent to trust that people were naturally good. It was why he dreaded becoming the next king. Sure, he knew all the head knowledge about how to run an empire, but he wasn’t confident he had the strength of will to handle making some of the hard decisions he’d seen his father commit to before—like the way he was handling Iris now.

When she suddenly offered to leave, Cas looked up from his plate in unbridled surprise. He didn’t know if she had made the suggestion because she was making the king uncomfortable or if she was uncomfortable, herself, but he did know it was a bad idea. Choking down the bite of food in his mouth, he interjected quickly, [color=#b97703]“That’s not necessary. You can stay here until you can go back to your family—”[/color]

“Caspian,” his father intoned warningly. “Until the day you’re crowned king, I make the final decisions around here. Do you understand?”

Cas winced at the harshness of his father’s voice. [color=#b97703]“Yes,”[/color] he muttered, shuffling his feet beneath the table as he grew nervous for what the king was going to choose to do with her.

Atlas nodded, satisfied, before he turned back to Iris. “Excuse my son’s outburst,” he apologized, dabbing at his stubbly chin with his napkin. “However, I did permit you to stay here until there is somewhere else for you to go, so there is no reason for you to leave any sooner. As long as you abide by the rules I trust Caspian has already informed you of, you may sleep in the room you’ve been assigned.”