“I suppose stubbornness is another trait we share as father and son.”
“Yes. And he’s quite taken with his wife, isn’t he? When I last saw them in Limeros, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Love’s like that. It’s one of the few things in life that are worth killing for, wouldn’t you say? He’d likely do absolutely anything for her, wouldn’t he? How romantic, considering she remains the greatest threat to your throne.”
The king’s expression was resolute and impassive, but his face had turned a shade redder.
“Apologies.” Princess Amara frowned. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“Not at all,” the king replied, and Felix watched him shift in his seat. “But tell me, while on your . . . impromptu trip to Limeros where you allegedly saw my son and his wife—”
“Not allegedly. I did see them . . . at the Temple of Valoria, in fact.”
“Did you also happen to see my daughter, Lucia?”
“I can’t say that I did. Why? Has she also fled her royal nest? Goodness, your grace, it seems that both of your children have abandoned you at such a delicate time in your rule. That must be rather disappointing.”
Felix and Milo shared a confused look. What, exactly, were they witnessing here?
The king chuckled, surprising his small audience. “Princess, you are a very special young woman indeed. I promise never to underestimate you again.”
“That would be wise,” she said, then glanced ahead. “Oh, look. We’ve nearly arrived at the Emerald Spear. This was the place I missed most while I was away.”
Felix turned in his seat to see the massive green palace rising high up into the sky.
“King Gaius . . . Felix, Milo . . .” Amara smiled brightly. “Welcome to my home.”
CHAPTER 11
CLEO
LIMEROS
Yes, very good, princess,” Lord Kurtis said. “Focus all your energy on the very center of the target.”
Cleo took her time carefully aiming her arrow, standing twenty paces from the target. It was cold, but the skies were clear and there was no snow to distract her today.
“When you’re ready, release the arrow.”
She let the arrow fly, feeling more confident than she had in any previous lesson.
But the arrow made it only halfway to its destination before taking a nosedive straight into the frozen ground.
This particular failure had become very familiar to her over the last week.
The sport of archery had seemed so easy from the sidelines, where she’d watched her sister compete. Now, looking down at her fingers, blistered and bleeding from daily practices, she realized how wrong her assumption had been. Every day it was the same: drawing back the bowstring, aiming, letting the arrow free. Over and over. And then failing each time, again and again.
She was further embarrassed by the fact that there were several guards posted near the archery field to witness her lack of progress, including Enzo, the friendly guard she made sure to say good morning to every day.
“Very good,” Kurtis said, trying to cheer her up. “You’re getting much better.”
She tried not to laugh. “You lie.”
“Not at all. You don’t see your progress, but I do. Your aim has become excellent and your strength is improving with each session. To master a skill like this takes extreme quantities of both patience and time.”
Why must everything important take so much patience and time when she had none of either left?
When she’d first met Lysandra Barbas, Cleo had been impressed by the rebel girl who had been so easily able to keep up with boys like Jonas, who could wield a bow and arrow as if she’d been born with them already in her grip. Although she’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to the belligerent Lysandra herself, Cleo had come to admire her deeply.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she said, putting down her bow and tucking her hands into the folds of her pale blue, fur-lined cloak.
“Very well.” Kurtis ordered a guard to pick up their equipment and they began to walk slowly toward the entrance to the palace. “Your grace, may I speak frankly with you?”
“About?”
“Prince Magnus.”
She glanced at him with surprise. “What about him?”
He hesitated. “Forgive me if I’ve misinterpreted, but I feel that you and I have become friends.”
“You haven’t misinterpreted at all.” Cleo could use as many friends as she could get. “Please, feel free to say whatever’s on your mind.”
“Thank you, your grace. The fact of the matter is . . . I’m a bit concerned for your husband. During the council meetings over which he’s presided, I can’t help but notice how so obviously doubtful the prince is about his abilities to lead. I fear it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the council catches on and begins to believe him inept. If the council finds him unfit to rule in his father’s place, they have the power to remove him from command.”
“All new leaders make mistakes at first,” Cleo said after a thoughtful pause. “And, as a matter of fact, I must disagree with you. When I sat in on the meeting he seemed both confident and capable.”
Did I just say that aloud? she thought with dismay.
She knew how much Magnus disliked delivering public speeches, so she really had been surprised at the seemingly effortless way he took command of the council meeting. When he spoke, it was as if everyone else faded from her view.
“I’ve known the prince a great deal longer than you have,” Kurtis replied without hesitation. “He’s never shown any signs of leadership, nor any interest in learning more about what makes a great leader. Yet he suddenly shows up here out of the blue, demanding control and sowing frustration.”
Cleo wasn’t sure she liked the direction of this conversation but still wanted to see where Kurtis was trying to lead it. “He is heir to the throne.”
“He is,” Kurtis acknowledged. “As were you to the Auranian throne, if not for Magnus’s father. I’m no fool. I know this marriage wasn’t one you made of your own free will. Forgive me if this seems quite harsh, but it’s almost as if you’re less of a wife and more of a prisoner of war. Knowing what a bully he was when we were children, I greatly sympathize with your position.”
He was far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. “I’m not sure how to reply to that, Kurtis.”
“You don’t have to say a thing. But, know this: In my heart, I know that Magnus is not meant for that throne. It belongs to someone else. Someone who has earned it, and who is much more worthy.”
She found she couldn’t breathe. Was Kurtis offering his allegiance to her?
“Kurtis . . .”
“That throne is mine,” he continued. “With both the king and my father in Auranos, I should be the one in power here.”
She grappled to conceal her shock. “It’s unfortunate, then, that the prince of Limeros disagrees with you.”
“You should know that the prince has succeeded in making far more enemies than friends since his arrival,” Kurtis said, his voice hushed as they drew closer to the palace. “I’ve become concerned about his safety.”
“You believe his life’s at risk?”
“I pray to the goddess it isn’t, of course.” He paused, his lips thinning out to nearly a grimace. “But what I know for sure is that very few in Limeros would mourn either his or his father’s death.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I hope that you might encourage your husband to step down.”
“You think I have that kind of control over him?”
“You certainly seemed to have a certain sway over him at the council meeting when it came to how to handle Limeros’s debt. It’s clear to me that he’s come to value your opinion.”
“I don’t think we share that clarity.”
“Even so, will you consider this request, princess?”
She pushed a smile onto her lips and squeezed Kurtis�
��s arm. “I appreciate your frankness today, Kurtis. And yes, I will consider it very carefully.”
“Excellent. Then I promise not to take up any more of your time.”
He bid her farewell until tomorrow’s lesson and left her there at the palace entrance, lost in her thoughts.
What just happened?
Cleo’s desire to reclaim what was rightfully hers had not faded at all, and Kurtis Cirillo would make for an interesting ally. If only something about his approach, his naked desire for the throne, hadn’t left such a rancid taste in her mouth.
So, the council hated Magnus. And, if presented with a choice, they would side with Kurtis. If Magnus were to then put up a fight, his life would be in danger.
That had once been her goal—to see the prince dead alongside his father.
Judging by the tight, sick sensation that now roiled in the pit of her stomach, times had certainly changed.
• • •
She returned to the ice gardens later that day, pulling her cloak closer as she explored the grounds, trying to clear her head. Everything around her was covered in a coat of pure white. Even the palace, a black and ominous beast of a structure, appeared muted and gray today, frost covering nearly every inch of its surface. She walked the long icy pathway leading through the gardens, imagining that it was lined with manicured hedges and blooming rose bushes. Perhaps an ivy-covered archway. Full of color and warmth, just like home.
Cleo loved Auranos, of course. But Limeros did have its beauty, too—a cold, untouchable beauty best admired from afar.
Much like the prince himself.
Yet the prince isn’t always cold and untouchable, is he? she thought.
Suddenly, something—a sensation, a small sound . . . she wasn’t sure what—made her pause and turn around.
Someone walked along the pathway behind her, about a hundred paces off. She stood there, transfixed, as the figure drew closer.
Until she could finally make out who it was.
“This is impossible,” she whispered.
When he was about thirty paces away, she started to walk, her legs moving of their own accord, taking her closer to him.
Theon.
Theon Ranus wore brown woolen trousers and a thick black cloak, the hood pushed back to reveal his handsome face. It was a face she’d memorized, a thousand times over. A face that had haunted her. A face she loved.
“H-how? How are you here?” she managed when she knew she was close enough from him to hear her.
He stopped, only an arm’s reach away. “I told you I’d find you and I meant it, princess. I will always find you. Did you doubt me?”
She reached out to him with a trembling hand, and found him solid and warm and real. “But . . . I saw you die! That—that sword pierced straight through your heart. You were gone!”
He grasped her hands in his. “An exiled Watcher found me, just in time. She healed me with a grape seed concoction enchanted with earth magic, but still it took months before I was strong enough to leave. I’ve searched for you ever since, princess. I searched everywhere and, thank the goddess, I’ve finally found you.”
That was why she’d been in Paelsia in the first place, to search for the mythical grape seeds rumored to bring someone back from the edge of death.
He was alive. Theon was alive! This changed everything. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Theon looked at her tenderly, seriously. “You’ve endured such horrors these last months. You’ve been forced to do terrible things in order to survive. But it’s over now. I’m here, and I promise to keep you safe.” He looked up at the façade of the black castle. “We need to leave here immediately.”
“Leave? But wait . . . I have to tell Nic . . .” Her life had been filled with hope again, but everything seemed to be changing so fast that she barely had the time to process it.
“We’ll send word to him so he’ll know where to find us.”
“My kingdom . . . Theon, I need to take it back.”
“You will, but not here. Not with him.” Theon’s expression darkened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that monster, my love. But I will now. You’ll never have to see him again.”
He drew her into a tight embrace, but she stiffened against him.
“I can’t leave,” she said, her voice so quiet she barely heard it herself. “There’s too much I need to do here. I’m sorry.”
Theon pulled back from her and shook his head. “How can you say this to me?”
“Please, try to understand—”
“Why would you stay with him a moment longer than you have to? Don’t you remember what he did to me?”
Slowly, blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth.
She covered her mouth in horror. “Theon!”
“He murdered me, princess. That evil coward plunged a sword through my back and in return he deserves nothing but pain. You know this!”
She shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears.
Theon staggered backward and fell to his knees. He ripped open the front of his cloak to show her the bright red stain in the center of his tunic. “He stole me from you. He stole your kingdom and your family and your future. Do you forget that?”
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “No. You—you don’t understand . . .”
“I loved you, princess. We would have been so happy together, if not for him. Why would you betray me like this?”
He fell to the ground, his accusatory eyes glassy and staring at her.
Cleo woke from the dream screaming.
• • •
She searched for Nic, but passed Magnus in the halls instead. She tried to avoid him, but he stepped directly into her path.
“Princess,” he said, eyeing her cloak and gloves. “In a hurry to go somewhere?”
She had trouble meeting his gaze, so she kept her attention on the dark floor instead. “Nowhere in particular.”
“I’m curious, how are your archery lessons coming along?”
Of course, today, of all days, he wanted to stop for a friendly chat. Lovely. “Couldn’t be better.”
“Lord Kurtis is a good instructor?”
“Very good. I—I’m actually looking for Nic. Have you seen him?”
“Not recently.” Magnus blinked, then straightened his shoulders. “The last place I saw him was at a public house nearby. It seemed to me he was there to try to forget a certain Kraeshian prince. Curious, isn’t it? And here I’d thought he was madly in love with you. Some people are full of secrets, aren’t they?”
“Indeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He caught her arm as she brushed past him. “Is everything all right, princess?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Look at me.”
Cleo gritted her teeth before forcing herself to meet his dark gaze. As soon as she did, a thousand different emotions hit her all at once, and her eyes began to sting.
No, not here. I won’t cry in front of him.
Magnus drew his brows together. “Tell me why you’re so upset.”
“As if you’d care.” She looked down at his large hand gripping her upper arm. “You’re hurting me.”
He let go of her immediately, and she felt his gaze hot on her back as she walked away, trying to appear as if she wasn’t in a rush.
She tried to breathe normally, tried to find a way to find her strength again, but it slipped from her grasp with every step she took.
Finally, she found Nic exiting his room in the servants’ wing. There were dark circles under his eyes and his red hair was a mess.
“Remind me of something in the future, Cleo,” he said. “Stick with Paelsian wine. Any other drink imbibed to excess leads to nothing but great pain and regret the next morning.”
If it were any other day, she might find this humorous. “The pain you’re feeling right now should be reminder enough,” she said, then glanced up and down the hallway. “I need to talk to you about a private
matter.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Now?”
She nodded, her throat tight.
“Fine.” He gestured toward his room. “Come in and experience the fine luxury I’ve been given by his majesty.”
She chewed her lip. “No, let’s go outside. I need some fresh air and . . . it will do you good.”
“Excellent idea. And if I freeze to death, I’ll be no further burden to you.”
“Stop it, Nic. You’re not a burden. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” She grabbed him and hugged him hard.
He stiffened with surprise, but then returned her hug. “Are you all right?”
“That’s a very good question. I’m not so sure anymore.”
He nodded. “Then let’s have that talk.”
Nic grabbed his warm cloak, and Cleo led him out of the palace and into the ice gardens.
“Have you seen the labyrinth?” she asked, drawing the hood of her cloak up over her head to help block out the chill.
“Only from a distance.”
She eyed the red-suited guards dotting the white landscape. “I’ve walked it several times and know the way through. It’ll give us some privacy.”
As they entered the maze, Cleo hooked her arm through Nic’s for additional warmth.
“All right,” he said. “What’s so urgently private that we need to walk through a maze of ice on the coldest day I’ve ever lived?”
“Well, first I want to apologize. I feel that I’ve been neglecting you when you . . .” She took hold of his cold hand in her gloved one. “When you’ve been deeply in need of a friend.”
His steps faltered and his expression grew serious. “What do you mean? I know you’re my friend. I mean, you’re more than that. You’re my family now. The only family I have.”
“Yes, of course. But I know you’ve been so troubled since the temple . . . since Prince Ashur died . . .”
His face went pale. “Is that what this talk is all about? Don’t ask me about him, Cleo. Please.”
“I know you’re in pain, Nic. I want to help you.”
“I’m working it out for myself.”
“By getting drunk every night?”
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