Rebel Spring

by Morgan Rhodes

  It was all so painfully beautiful. To punctuate this, a pink and purple butterfly flew by on a warm breeze.

  “Ugh.” Lucia turned away. She didn’t care about butterflies. She cared about hawks and had searched the skies endlessly for a sighting of one, just one! But there was nothing.

  It had been five long weeks since the last time she saw Alexius, when he promised he would see her again—when they’d kissed so passionately and she’d been torn from his arms by waking. If he was real, why hadn’t he come to her again? It wasn’t just a dream. It wasn’t. She knew Alexius was out there somewhere.

  She gripped the banister, and it warmed beneath her touch before beginning to crumble into dust from a surge of earth magic. She let go of it immediately and wiped off her hands, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had witnessed this, but of course there was no one. After learning of the fright she’d put into her elementia tutor, her father had strongly suggested she remain alone in her chambers until he sought the help of another.

  And so she had. But after so many days trapped in such a small space, she needed to be free.

  She was curious to know if the king had had Domitia executed since she had not fulfilled her purpose. It saddened Lucia that she didn’t care what the woman’s fate had been—life or death.

  Once she would have cared.

  The butterfly lit on the edge of a nearby flowerpot and she eyed it, fighting the sudden urge to squash its beauty in the palm of her hand.

  “What’s happening to me?” she whispered.

  She’d been cooped up in this room for far too long. Answers were what she needed more than anything. Books had always given her knowledge in the past. Why would now be any different? She’d heard that the Auranian palace library was second to none. Perhaps there, unlike the Limerian library, which contained only books of hard knowledge, she might find more answers about elementia. About the sorceress and the Watchers.

  Her decision made, Lucia left her chambers and moved through the hallways, looking neither left nor right, except to ask a guard for directions to her destination. The library was on the other side of the palace and the hallways were virtually deserted, apart from the occasional guard who stood as still as a statue. Magnus had always prided himself in his ability to move through the castle unseen—like a shadow. It was a true talent, one she’d only started to appreciate.

  She missed Magnus, she realized. She missed the days when they had talked for an entire afternoon about bards or books or nothing, how they laughed about some silly private joke, like the way Lady Sophia always slipped pastries into the pockets of her dress at palace dinners and thought no one noticed. She missed the way she could coax a smile from him even on his darkest days.

  Was that now stolen from her forever?

  It’s my fault. I should have been kinder to him in my thoughts and words.

  He was angry with her now and hurt by her continual rejection of his love. Hopefully, when he returned at long last from the hunt, she could earn his forgiveness and make him see that though they could never be together, their filial relationship was more important than any other. She needed him and he needed her. There was no question that she had to put right between them what had gone so very wrong.

  For now, Lucia forced these thoughts away and focused again on her goal. She wanted to take every book she could that might help her learn more about who she was and what she could expect from her magic. Take them and devour them, feeding herself with the knowledge like a feast laid out at a banquet.

  When she reached her destination, her footsteps slowed at the sight of the enormous room beyond the archway. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of books laid upon shelves that rose as high as small mountains. There had to be tens of thousands of books here, all shapes and sizes. All subjects. All offering knowledge beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of. Light from a multitude of stained glass windows shone down into this haven, casting a kaleidoscopic sparkle, as if the library itself were touched by magic.

  “Well, Princess Lucia, you’ve strayed from your chambers. At long last, we get to meet.”

  The voice broke the spell she’d fallen under, and her gaze moved to the girl standing before her with two books tucked beneath her arm. Lucia recognized her immediately. Her fair face, her aquamarine eyes, her pale, golden hair that fell in waves all the way down to her waist. She was shorter than Lucia by several inches, but despite her small stature she held herself tall, her shoulders back, her chin tilted upward. A curious smile played at her rosy lips.

  This was the distraction the king wanted so Magnus would no longer focus his unwanted attention upon Lucia. Princess Cleiona was just as beautiful as she’d heard. And Lucia found that she hated her immediately.

  She, however, pushed a smile onto her own lips to mirror the other princess. “Princess Cleiona, it’s a great honor.”

  “Please, feel free to call me Cleo. After all, we’re sisters now, aren’t we?”

  Lucia tried not to cringe at the reminder. “Then you’re most welcome to call me Lucia.” She shook her head, still awed by her surroundings. “I can’t tell you how incredible this library is. You’ve been so lucky to have this all your life.”

  Cleo’s eyes did not hold quite as much amazement as Lucia’s did. “I must confess, I never came here as much as my sister did. She loved it. She always had a book to read. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already worked her way through half of these by the time she . . .” Her words trailed off, and her cheeks were tight as she brought her pained gaze back to Lucia’s.

  Lucia’s distaste faded somewhat in sympathy for this girl who’d lost so much. Her sister, her father, her kingdom. All taken by an enemy force, which included Lucia herself. And now, this library belonged more to her than it did to Cleo.

  “Your sister sounds much like me, then,” Lucia said gently. “I love to read.”

  “Then you’ll fit in very well here.”

  “I’m glad to get the chance to talk to you.” The other princess, despite her new status as Magnus’s wife, was watched carefully and kept in a different wing of the castle. Her prison might be a gilded one, but it was no less secure. And yet, here she was today, roaming about unescorted, with no guard to be seen. Had this enemy to her father’s throne managed to ease herself into King Gaius’s good graces after the successful wedding tour?

  “And I’m very glad that you’re feeling better. Everyone was terribly worried about you, not understanding why you remained asleep for so long.” Cleo looked at Lucia curiously, as if expecting a reason to freely be given.

  “It was the strangest thing.” Lucia shook her head, back on her guard. “And I’m afraid it may always remain a mystery.”

  “There was a rumor that you might have been cursed by a witch. That you were under a magic spell.”

  Lucia frowned deliberately, as if this sounded ludicrous to her. “Magic? Do you believe in such silly things?”

  Cleo’s smile stretched thinner. “Of course not. But servants like to talk, you know. Especially when it’s about royalty. They love to make up all sorts of interesting tales.”

  “They certainly do. But no, I was under no magical spell, I assure you.” The lie felt so natural it took no effort at all to deliver.

  “I’m very glad to hear that.” Cleo shifted her books in her arms.

  “What are you reading?” Lucia asked, cocking her head so she could make out the gilded titles stamped onto the leather spines. “A History of Elementia. My goodness. That sounds like a strange choice of book for one who doesn’t believe in magic.”

  “Yes, doesn’t it?” Cleo’s knuckles whitened on the edge of the large book. “It was one of my sister’s favorites. Reading such things makes me feel that her spirit is close, guiding me.”

  This conversation was far more work than Lucia expected it to be. There was a time, back before the battle that
had put this kingdom in her father’s hands, that Lucia had imagined their meeting, hoping that they might become close friends. She’d begun to doubt that possibility now. She strained to read the title of the second, smaller book, which was covered in dust, as though Cleo had unearthed it from a long-forgotten stack, and her heart began to pound harder. “Song of the Sorceress. What is that about?”

  Cleo glanced down at it. “Poetry about a powerful sorceress who lived at the time of the goddesses. Her name was—well, your middle name . . . Eva. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  Lucia’s throat tightened. “Yes, quite.”

  This was a book she needed.

  “I should probably leave you to your own book search. I’d say you have permission to borrow whatever you like, but I don’t suppose you need it, do you?”

  There was just a drop of acid contained within those words. Lucia was pleased by it; pleased to know that the girl was not all she appeared—a polite and perfectly poised princess. She wore masks, the same kind that Lucia and Magnus did. Was it possible to be a member of a royal family and not have such a tool at the ready? Thinking this, Lucia felt her heart soften toward the other girl once again.

  “I know this is all difficult for you,” Lucia said, touching Cleo’s arm as she moved past her. “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Cleo smiled, but her eyes were cold. “How nice to know of your empathy for my situation.”

  “If you need to talk, please know that I’m here for you.”

  “As I am for you.”

  Something caught Lucia’s eye then and she looked down at Cleo’s hand.

  “Your ring.” She frowned. “Is it . . . glowing?”

  Cleo took a step back, her face growing pale. She glanced down at her ring, a delicate golden filigree with a large purple stone she wore on the index finger of her right hand. She adjusted the books so her hand was now shielded. “A trick of the light, I’m sure. Nothing more.”

  How strange. “Well, in any case, I hope to see much more of you from now on.”

  “Yes. I feel the same way. Since we’re now sisters.”

  Was it only her imagination too that the word was delivered as sharp as a dagger?

  “Do you know when Magnus will be back?” Lucia asked.

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “No.”

  “I was under the impression that your brother shared everything with you.”

  Lucia pressed her lips together, choosing not to answer. There was a time when this would have been true. Lately, however . . .

  The thought that she’d lost her brother’s confidence suddenly pained her, an ache she felt deep in her heart.

  “To answer your question,” Cleo said, “I don’t know when he will be back. I can only hope it will be soon.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  Cleo’s smile held. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Lucia regarded the girl for a moment before she spoke again. “Who would have thought that two people so very different would find love in the midst of this landscape of conflict.”

  Cleo’s gaze was continually moving, over Lucia, over their surroundings. She was alert, this princess. And Lucia sensed there was much more behind those innocent-looking eyes than anyone might believe.

  “Who indeed? You’re very lucky to have grown up with an older brother like Magnus.”

  “Yes. Just as you’re lucky to get the chance to spend the rest of your life by his side.”

  “Indeed.”

  Lucia watched her carefully, searching for any sign of deception. Was this true? Was Cleo actually happily in love with Magnus and he with her?

  Impossible.

  “He can be difficult,” Lucia warned. “Moody. Temperamental. Argumentative.”

  “Who isn’t, at times?”

  “He’s very forgiving, though.” Lucia arched a brow. “After all, he forgave you your unfortunate and shameful loss of chastity to Lord Aron Lagaris, didn’t he?”

  Cleo blinked, the only sign that her words had come as an unexpected slap. Lucia took a measure of joy from that but knew it was petty.

  During Magnus’s wedding tour absence, the king had filled Lucia in on many interesting facts. Everything she missed while she’d been asleep.

  The princess’s lips thinned. “As you said, I’m very lucky.”

  “I’m sorry for stating this so bluntly, but as you know, servants talk.” No reason to let Cleo know the king had said anything. Servants were always easiest to blame for everything.

  “Yes.” A fresh smile now snaked slowly across Cleo’s face. “I’ve heard things too. About you.”

  “Oh? Such as?”

  “I’m sure it’s a lie. Unlike some people, I prefer to make my own judgments, not have my head so easily filled with the gossip of servants.”

  Lucia bristled at the sly insult. “What have you heard?”

  Cleo moved closer as if ready to speak in quiet confidence. “I heard that you and Magnus had an unsavory relationship before coming here to Auranos. That you’re in love with your own brother.”

  Lucia’s mouth fell open. “That’s not true!”

  “Of course not. As I said, I make my own judgments. But, despite the distasteful and unnatural leanings of such an attraction on your part, I would understand it. Magnus is very handsome. Don’t you think?” A mocking smile curved the edge of the girl’s mouth, as if she knew she was getting under Lucia’s skin and pushing the boundaries of her patience.

  And she was. Lucia’s magic growled and paced in its cage. She wasn’t in love with Magnus and she despised such an accusation. How would Cleo like to know that it was actually Magnus who felt the unnatural and disgusting love for her?

  But had that changed? Had this girl seduced Magnus and taken him away from Lucia forever? He was ready to be hers—now and always. She didn’t want him romantically, but she didn’t want to lose him to this meaningless princess.

  Irrational—I’m being irrational.

  At that moment, she didn’t really care.

  Fire magic was the closest to the surface, and her mind reached for it even without her conscious permission. The unlit torches set into the walls of the library caught fire and began to blaze hot and bright. A crack began to slither down a large stained glass window before it shattered, shards of glass raining down on the smooth floor.

  Cleo’s head whipped in the direction of the broken window and the torches, her eyes widening with alarm.

  “What’s happening? Is it another quake?” Her gaze snapped back to Lucia, who now had her fists clenched at her sides, trying with all her might to calm herself before something truly horrible happened.

  Before she lit her brother’s bride on fire and listened to her dying screams.

  Sudden clarity reached Lucia with the force of a fist slamming into her stomach and she gasped out loud. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t her. Something was making her act irrationally and violently. It was her elementia. It had closed its hand on the back of her neck like a master with a favored pet, controlling her, commanding her.

  The torches returned to a normal height, still lit but now flickering harmlessly as they added more light to the already bright room.

  “It’s nothing.” Lucia echoed Cleo’s previous words as she brushed past the wide-eyed princess to go farther into the library. She had research to do. She wouldn’t let this stupid girl continue to distract her. The broken glass crunched under the leather soles of her shoes. “A trick of the light, I’m sure. Nothing more.”

  CHAPTER 30

  NIC

  AURANOS

  There was no time to wait. He had to speak with Cleo now. Nic searched the castle until he finally found her outside in the sunny courtyard seated upon a bench, surrounded by trees heavy with fruit and fragrant blossoms. She was so intent on her reading that she d
idn’t hear him approach. He glanced over her shoulder to see that she was immersed in a book so old its pages were yellow and brittle. She slid her index finger over an illustration of a ring with a large stone and a band like winding ivy.

  “That looks like your ring,” he said with surprise.

  She slammed the book closed and turned to face him, her eyes wide. Then she exhaled shakily. “Oh, Nic. It’s just you.”

  He’d rarely seen her as nervous as this. Nic looked toward the four other guards who kept watch over this area. They each stood against the stone walls as still as statues, far enough away that Nic and Cleo didn’t risk being overheard by them.

  Cleo’s knuckles had tightened on the book she now clutched to her chest. Nic tilted his head to read the title: Song of the Sorceress.

  He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. He had something to say and he needed to speak before they were interrupted. Privacy for a member of the palace guard—even a reluctant one like him—was fleeting.

  “We need to escape this place,” Nic whispered. “We must go while we can, while there’s a chance to leave here undetected. We need to leave tonight.”

  “No, Nic.” Cleo’s eyes locked with his. “This is my palace, my throne. I can’t leave. Not yet.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it every day, and I’ve reached a breaking point, Cleo. When the prince returns . . . I can’t protect you from him every hour of the day and night. I won’t let him kill you like he did Mira.”

  “Nic.” Pain flashed through her eyes at the mention of her lost friend. “I mourn Mira as deeply as you do, but it was the king who killed your sister.” She placed the book down beside her and grasped his hands. “Magnus spared your life—and he protected me in Limeros during the assassination attempt.”

  He stared at her incredulously. “Are you really attempting to defend the same boy who murdered Theon? Who stood next to his father as they conquered this kingdom? You’re not . . . you’re not falling in love with him, are you?”