Cas appreciated that Iris tried to cheer him up, but her words didn’t do much to comfort him. He didn’t believe his father was looking for him at all if he was still continuing on with the war while he was still missing. If the king had been searching, they wouldn’t have nearly lost their lives to those bombers. It had just been a stroke of good luck that Iris’s fever had kept them from walking close enough to have suffered more than a few ruffled feathers. Had she been well enough to keep moving, they might not have escaped with their lives. And there was no telling if they would find themselves in another warzone while they were on the move. He wasn’t sure how many more near-death experiences he could take. Just the thought of it was enough to make him shiver apprehensively.

Similarly, he didn’t care what was going on “behind closed doors.” As far as he was concerned, there was no reason good enough for Atlas to give up on finding his only son after just one week. That he had was proof that he didn’t care about him more than he cared about defeating the Scourge. Cas could understand his father’s urgency, since the rebels were causing so much trouble for the monarchy, but it wasn’t enough to justify putting his life in danger. Knowing that the king was so quick to forget about him left a bitter taste in his mouth that wouldn’t dissipate anytime soon. It was the biggest reason why he felt too emotionally wounded to feel excited about going back to the capital.

Not wanting to argue with Iris about it though, he merely shrugged in response to her question about hope. He had hope. It just wasn’t in the capital. [color=#b97703][i]She gives me hope,[/i][/color] he thought, glancing at her as they headed out of the room. If he didn’t have her with him, he wasn’t sure what he would have done by now. Granted, he would probably be dead, since she was the one who had freed him from Regis’s basement. However, he was thankful that she was with him when he didn’t have anywhere else to lay anchor outside the walls of the capital. Her presence was his rock until he could figure out where he belonged and what his purpose was.

Feeling a little better with that reminder, he rolled his eyes at her joke. [color=#b97703]“I prefer the word ‘handsome,’”[/color] he gibed in return. [color=#b97703]“Although I think I’d even fit the bill for ‘rugged’ now.”[/color] He brought his hand to his cheek, where the cut was still healing. He was pretty sure it was going to scar. Along with the bruise on his jaw and the thick stubble he was sporting after going over a week without shaving, he would hardly call himself “pretty.”

Following her out of the pub, he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and took a look around. To his relief, there weren’t many people outside, so he didn’t feel like he had to watch his back as carefully as he had when they’d first arrived. Relaxing a little, he nudged Iris with his arm. [color=#b97703]“So, this roadway you’re taking us to,”[/color] he started, turning to meet her gaze. [color=#b97703]“Does it go straight to the capital, or will we be passing through any other districts along the way?”[/color] Though he didn’t say it, he was hoping that it was the latter. He still hadn’t made up his mind about going home, so he wanted to stall for more time to think it over.