“Yes. It’s me who looks exhausted.”
Galo straightened, glancing back at the castle. The white stone building loomed large next to them, casting a shadow across the gardens. Arched windows lined the rear of the castle, and a maid stuck her head out of one on the second floor, giving a rug a quick pound against the wall.
“Maybe we should stop.” Galo gestured at the dusty jacket on the ground. “You’re going to smell like dirt and sweat when your new bride arrives.”
Cas dropped the sword on top of his jacket, messing it up further. “She’s been traveling for days. I’m sure she’ll smell as well. We’ll be even.”
“How very considerate of you, Your Highness.”
Galo only called Cas “Your Highness” when he was making fun of him. Cas shot him a mildly amused look. Galo was two years older than him, and in his three years on the guard had become more of a friend than someone who should call him by his formal title.
“Did you hear that Olso warriors are coming to visit after the wedding?” Cas asked.
“I didn’t hear that,” Galo said, pushing a hand through his dark hair. “Why?”
“Negotiations. They have some issues with a treaty that gave Lera control of their main port after the last war. But I think my father agreed to the visit so he could show off.”
“Show off what, exactly?”
“After I’m married, Lera will control Vallos as well as Ruina.” Cas laughed. “It is impressive. He can’t stop bragging that he’s leaving me with two more kingdoms than his father left him. Of course, one of them is Ruina. That one isn’t really something to brag about.”
“Not unless you’re a fan of dead crops and gray skies.”
“I asked him if I could visit Ruina, see the mines, but . . .” Cas shrugged. “Maybe it’s still too dangerous.”
“It’s definitely too dangerous,” Galo said.
“Casimir? CASIMIR!”
Cas turned at the sound of his mother’s voice from inside the castle. She swept out onto the patio of the second-floor library, the skirts of her light-blue dress swishing around her ankles. She planted her hands on her hips.
“She’s been spotted at the end of the road,” she said.
His heart dropped. “All right.”
“You could at least pretend to be excited.”
“I am simply alight with excitement and anticipation. I can hardly contain myself, really.” He flashed a big fake smile. “How was that?”
Galo covered a laugh with a cough. His mother let out a deeply annoyed sigh and strode back inside.
“I’d better go,” he said, grabbing his sword and handing it to Galo. He snatched his coat from the ground, shaking the dirt out.
“Good luck,” Galo said, then frowned. “Is that the appropriate thing to say in this situation?”
Cas lifted one shoulder. There wasn’t much to say to someone who was headed out to meet the woman he’d been ordered to marry. Try not to vomit might have been the best choice.
He gave Galo a tight smile and hopped up the steps, grabbing the handle of the tall wooden door. He threw it open, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting in the staff dining room. To his left, a boy backed out of the kitchen door, the sound of clanging pans and yells drifting in from behind him. He held a tray of pastries, and he came to an abrupt stop when he spotted the prince.
Cas nodded at the boy, striding past him through the far door and into the hallway. Sunlight streamed in from the wide windows to his right, and the walls in this corridor were almost pink in the afternoon light. Later, they would look red. Every corridor was painted a different color, and when he turned a corner he found two staff members arranging bunches of yellow flowers against the bright-green walls.
The castle buzzed with noise as he walked into the foyer. More flowers lined the banister of the staircase, and a staff member was wrapping blue ribbons around them. The air was full of anticipation and excitement as the castle staff prepared for the arrival of the new princess. Their bright faces just filled Cas with more dread.
His mother and father stood in front of the door at the main entrance, and he stopped next to them.
“You’re all dirty,” his mother said, taking his jacket from him. She beat at it with her hand, trying to remove lingering dirt. “Did you have to spar with that guard before she arrived?”
The king clapped his son on the arm. “He’s just nervous. Working off some energy.”
“I am not.” Yes, he was.
Maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Cas had always known he’d marry someone his parents chose. He’d known, yet he hadn’t quite prepared himself for how it would actually feel. Like his stomach was going to drop into his feet and his head would explode from the pounding.
What was the word for that?
“This is as good as it’s going to get,” his mother said, handing him his coat. He slipped it on.
“Try and talk to her?” the king said. “It makes people uncomfortable when you just stand there quietly.”