Caspian had been the one to prompt her for an answer, but when Iris said she had been sent to kill him, he looked away from her with a pained expression. There were a lot of different thoughts running through his head. Firstly, he couldn’t believe he’d taken his [i]assassin [/i]into his care. Even though it hadn’t been his intention, he’d put himself and his father in danger by trusting that she was a high born despite the fact that he’d found her on the edge of the city and that she had no form of identification to prove that she wasn’t an intruder. It would have been safer to follow Atlas’s instructions and have her sent to a cell until the guards figured out who she was. But no. Instead of doing the logical thing, he’d had to go and play hero and welcome her into the home she would have otherwise had to break into to do her job.

Alongside that realization, he also felt manipulated. She may have lost her memories for a while, but by the time he’d confessed that he liked her, she had known she there to kill him. Yet she’d still indulged him and let him believe there was something between them. He hated how easily she’d been able to string him along, while he hadn’t even considered the possibility that she’d been lying. He had been so blinded by infatuation and the conviction that she was a high born that he’d walked right into her trap.

[color=#b97703][i]Some leader I’m turning out to be,[/i][/color] he thought bitterly. If he was able to escape or if the soldiers found him before the rebels killed him, he was going to be much more careful in the future. He owed it to himself and to his father to be a better ruler who wouldn’t put Aspiria in jeopardy with his unrealistic beliefs that most people were good. Once he was back in the safety of the mansion, he was going to take his training much more seriously.

As Iris went on to explain herself by talking about the way she had been raised, Cas said nothing. Aside from the fact that he didn’t want to talk to her anymore, he was also tired of hearing the Scourge’s excuses for trying to dismantle the monarchy. He knew they thought his family was corrupt, and he knew they thought they were just for causing an uproar, but it didn’t change the reality that they were in the wrong. It was frustrating to hear both Ethan and Iris talk about their cause as if it wasn’t the source of all the suffering happening in their country.

He managed not to look her in the eyes until she brought up her mother. At the revelation that she had lost her life to cancer, he looked up with a mixture of hesitation and surprise. Fail-proof treatments and vaccines had been invented to treat that disease decades ago, so it was hard for him to believe that someone had died because of it recently. However, there was no sign of dishonesty on her face. He squirmed, unsure what to think. At the very least, her mother’s case was worth looking into to find out why she hadn’t been treated for her illness. If—[i]when[/i]—he returned to the capital, he would have to remember to ask around for an obituary.

[color=#b97703]“I know words won’t bring your mother back, but I’m sorry,”[/color] he said earnestly. Having lost his own mother a few years ago, he understood what she was going through. He parted his lips to go on, but before he could, he flinched at the thunder of an angry voice. As the door flew open, he turned toward the opening, squinting against the light that came through from the other side. The silhouette of a man stood at the top of the stairs, but it wasn’t Ethan this time.

The stranger marched down into the room, and Cas studied him silently, unable to place who he was looking at. He’d never seen this guy before, but it had to be someone from the rebellion. Whoever he was, the rage in his voice made the hairs on the back of the prince’s neck stand up, and he sat tensely, hoping this wasn’t going to be his next guard. He’d already had enough of Ethan. He didn’t need to put up with this man too.