Caspian wished he and Iris were normal people. Normal lovers who had met each other under normal circumstances and been together the way any other normal people would have been. But that could never happen. From the beginning, they had been hopelessly star-crossed, coming from opposite ends of the social order and fighting tooth and nail against everything and everyone who got in their path. He would have loved to put it all behind him and be with her—tell her that he loved her the way he would have wanted to. If he’d had it his way, he would have taken her out on a romantic date and planned out exactly how he would have confessed the feelings that he had for her. He would have then waited with bated breath for her to tell him she loved him too.

Instead, he’d admitted it in the confines of a rebel prison, rushing to make sure she knew before he was dragged off to what would most likely be his death. He didn’t even have time to care if she felt the same way. Of course, he did want her to love him too, but he also knew that he’d confessed quickly. They’d been together in the capital for only a day or so, and then only another couple days had passed since they’d gotten together again in Bel Bicis. Objectively, they still barely knew each other, but he couldn’t deny that he’d fallen head over heels for her while they’d been on the run from rebellion. Trauma and hardship had a way of accelerating the clock. However, he knew it was a lot to expect her to reciprocate his fledgling affection this soon, so he didn’t wait.

Dragged along by Ethan, he dropped his gaze to the floor, only to freeze again when he heard her say that she loved him too. The words made his pounding heart stumble, and he looked up at her, dumbfounded. [color=#b97703][i]She loves me,[/i][/color] the thought echoed over and over in his head. It was relieving and exhilarating and gut-wrenching all at the same time. He was elated that she felt the same way, but because of the rebels, their affection would die at that. They would never have a chance to explore it any further because he was going to be killed, and she was going to have to move on without him. If fate was real, it had a morbid sense of humor.

Dazed, he staggered as Ethan pulled him out of the cell and led him down one of the cold, gray corridors away from Iris. He couldn’t pay attention to where they were going—not that it mattered, since he had no hope of escaping—and only came out of the stupor when they arrived at a room. As soon as the rebel let go of him, he looked around again, wondering absently if [i]this[/i] was the last place he was ever going to see. It was just as unnerving as the rest of the building, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ethan chose to play the role of both interrogator and executioner that day.

Turning back to him, Cas eyed the other man cagily. Right away, Ethan asked him a question that he wasn’t willing to answer. He may have been disappointed and upset with his father for turning his back on him, but he wasn’t a traitor. At the risk of life and limb, he was going to take the crown’s secrets with him to his grave.

[color=#b97703]“Wouldn’t you like to know?”[/color] he growled stubbornly, mentally bracing himself for the repercussions of his decision. At least he wasn’t restrained. With his arms and legs free, he intended to fight back as best as he could if the rebel tried to force him to talk. Broken ribs be damned, he had nothing left to lose now that he was guaranteed to die, so he wasn’t going down without resisting on the way.