“I don’t always have something to say.”
“Then think of something,” his father said, exasperated.
The queen walked to the door, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on. Both of you.” She let the king slip past her and put a hand on Cas’s arm. “Don’t worry, Cas. I know she will be quite taken with you.”
He shook her hand off but tried to smile like he believed her. Quite taken with you. How ridiculous. It was a treaty marriage, and Mary knew as much about him as he did about her. Nothing.
They marched outside into the sunlight, Cas trailing behind his parents. About ten staff members and several members of Cas’s guard were waiting in two neat rows.
He walked down the castle steps and took his place next to his father as the gate began to open. He clasped his hands behind his back, then pulled on each finger of his left hand until he felt the knuckle crack. His heart was pounding so loudly it vibrated in his ears. He tried to fix his face into a neutral expression.
A dirt path ran from the castle to the front gate, flanked on either side by lush green grass and perfectly trimmed square hedges. Two guards pulled open the iron gate, scurrying out of the way as Lera’s royal escorts came through on their horses.
Behind them was a small carriage that had seen better days. Dirt and mud stuck to the wheels, though that was to be expected after the journey through the Lera jungle. The body was plain gray, with a glass window on either side. The windows were open, and the one closest to Cas looked like it might fall off its hinges at any moment. A curtain had been pulled over the open space, obscuring the inside from view.
A young man in a Vallos uniform sat on the seat at the front of the carriage, reins in hand. Cas expected several more guards to follow him, but he was the only one in Vallos yellow. Strange. Cas always took several guards with him when he traveled.
The Vallos guard pulled the horses to a stop and jumped off the carriage, tugging on the ends of his jacket. His hands were covered in scars, like he’d been burned, and Cas tried not to stare as the man opened the door to the carriage. He’d never seen flesh that mangled before.
A hand emerged from the carriage first, and the guard took it, stepping back as a dark head appeared.
Princess Mary jumped out of the carriage, disregarding the step and kicking up some dirt in the process.
She was tall with long legs and wore a yellow dress that stretched tightly across her chest. It was also too short, revealing a bit of ankle, and Cas wondered if she’d recently grown taller or just had a terrible seamstress. A few strands of her dark hair had come loose from their tie, giving her a wild, disheveled look.
“Rumors of her beauty were . . . exaggerated,” his father muttered.
Cas actually had known one thing about Mary, as her parents had written before they died, saying she was “beautiful” and “lovely” and “so pretty and delicate.” But the girl in front of them wasn’t any of those things. She was sharp angles and hard lines. Nothing about her seemed delicate at all.
The guard sort of waved his hand in Mary’s direction. He clearly wasn’t the one who usually introduced her. “Princess Mary Anselo of Vallos.” Cas had thought they might refer to her as “Queen Mary,” but technically she hadn’t ascended to the Vallos throne following her parents’ death. Vallos belonged to Cas’s father now.
Mary’s gaze immediately slid to Cas. She had dark, intense eyes, framed by long lashes. The skin beneath them was a bit dark as well, making her look either tired or angry. Maybe both.
Cas bowed his head slightly in greeting, then focused his attention on the trees in the distance. He was less likely to jump out of his skin if he didn’t make eye contact.
The herald stepped forward and swept his arm out toward the king. “His Majesty, King Salomir Gallegos. Her Majesty, Queen Fabiana Gallegos. And His Highness, Prince Casimir Gallegos.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mary,” his mother said, bowing her head, then stepping forward and clasping Mary’s hands in her own. The girl seemed surprised by this, and she leaned back, as if she wanted to run away.
Cas couldn’t blame her. He was contemplating running himself.
“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” Mary said quietly.
The king beamed at her in that way he always did with women. “A pleasure.”
One side of Mary’s mouth turned up in something like a smile. Or a grimace. Cas found it difficult to read the expressions on her face.
“This is my guard, Aren,” Mary said as the young man took a step forward.
“Did you bring only one?” The king’s tone held a note of suspicion.