With the car stereo turned up loud enough to drown out the sound of his phone’s ringtone, Cas drove himself to see his friends without looking back. He felt guilty for ignoring his father’s summons, but he couldn’t keep letting the king trod all over him anymore. For his entire life, he’d allowed Atlas to make almost all his decisions for him, always rolling over because he didn’t have the guts to stand up for himself. He’d justified it by telling himself that his father was just wiser than he was, trying to quell the frustration he felt about not having a voice of his own in the capital. However, now that his interests were directly opposed to the monarch’s, he had to take the leap and start asserting himself. If Atlas didn’t like it, it would only prove that he cared more about having a perfectly groomed successor than he did about having a son with his own free will.

The screen of his phone, which he’d set down in one of the cupholders in the center console, lit up once more as the number for the manor flashed across the top. Cas glanced at it fleetingly and looked forward again with a shake of his head. His father was probably furious with him, but he wasn’t going to pick up. [color=#b97703]“I’m not your damn puppet,”[/color] he grumbled to no one in particular, pressing down on the gas pedal with a little more force. The vehicle was equipped with GPS tracking, so Atlas could easily look it up and figure out where he was going, but he wasn’t in danger, so it would have been excessive for the king to send security to bring him back. If his father was determined to chew him out about the session with Dr. Foster, he would just have to wait to do it when he came home that night.

Making good time to Miles’ place, he pulled around to the front of the estate and climbed out of his car, veritably slamming the door behind him with simmering irritation. He hadn’t called ahead to let his friend know that he was on his way, but Miles was almost always welcoming when he showed up to visit. He didn’t expect anything different this time as he jogged up the steps to the front door and rang the doorbell to announce his presence.

Meanwhile, Miles, who had just unsuccessfully confessed his interest in Iris, tried to backpedal quickly. “God, no,” he held up his hands. “You don’t have to leave. I think you’re hot, but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with you or anything. You can still stay here. I’ll just back off a little now that I know you aren’t into me, okay?” He offered her an assuring smile. Inwardly, he was still discouraged by her swift rejection, but he was a spin doctor who could twist any painful situation into a positive one with a little effort. In this case, he told himself that now that he knew she wasn’t interested, he could move on from his crush. It was a good thing, ultimately. There was no reason to stay upset.

Taking a deep breath, he went on, “Just forget I said anything. We’re still cool, I swear.” In the next moment, the doorbell rang, and he glanced over his shoulder, secretly thankful for the excuse to get away from the awkwardness of their conversation. Standing up from the sofa, he cleared his throat, “I’ll go see who that is. Be right back.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and trotted out of the room, heading down the hallway to find out who had showed up to his house when it was barely noon.