Rebel Spring

CHAPTER 10

CLEO

AURANOS

Cleo clutched the gold and amethyst ring in her fist so tightly she was sure it would leave a permanent imprint on her skin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to sense something from it. Anything.

Finally, she opened her hand to look at the small piece of jewelry. “It belonged to your mother,” her father had told her moments before his death. “She always believed it had the power to help find the Kindred. If you can find it, you’ll be powerful enough to take back this kingdom from those who seek to destroy us all.”

“I’m trying, Father,” she whispered, tears of frustration and grief stinging her eyes. “But I don’t know how. I wish you were here. I miss you and Emilia so much.”

The weeks of searching in the palace library had yielded nothing.

Maybe he was wrong.

There was a hard knock on her door and she quickly scrambled to hide the ring behind the loose stone in her wall. A moment later, the door opened and two young attendants entered, one fair, one dark. Both Limerian. Cleo wasn’t allowed to have servants from her own kingdom anymore.

“We’ve been sent to help you get ready for your trip,” the fair-haired one, Helena, said.

“Trip?” Cleo repeated. “Where am I going?”

“To Hawk’s Brow,” the other, Dora, said, bottomless envy shining in her dark eyes. “The queen herself is taking you there. You have an appointment with Lorenzo today.”

It was a name Cleo knew well from a simpler time. A famous man known throughout Auranos for his flawless taste and exemplary style, a man who had dressed Cleo and her sister since they reached adolescence.

The reality of the situation dawned. Queen Althea was accompanying Cleo to the fitting of her wedding gown.

Her stomach sank. The sensation of being cornered, of being ordered to do what she didn’t want to, settled over her. But then she realized this would be the first time she left the palace since the day after she had been captured.

There was a chance Lorenzo might secretly assist her, and her thoughts went again to the ring. Hawk’s Brow was the home of many scholars and artists-citizens who were well versed in history and legend. If she could speak with the dressmaker alone and enlist him to her cause. .

“Fine,” she said, raising her chin. “Then let’s not keep the queen waiting.”

• • •

“I hear you’re going to Hawk’s Brow today, Cleo.”

The slithering words slowed her steps as she moved down the hallway after dismissing Helena and Dora once they’d dressed her in traveling robes.

“Lord Aron. .” Cleo turned to see him loitering nearby.

The last time she’d been in Hawk’s Brow had been nearly a year ago, she remembered. It was a gathering of friends who’d spent a few days in the large Auranian city, nestled along the coastline, without a single care on their minds apart from having fun. Aron had been there as well. At the time, she’d thought herself infatuated with him.

How times had changed.

“I know you’re still angry with me for revealing your secret.” His eyes glittered from the torchlight set into the smooth stone wall beside him.

She forced a gracious smile. It took effort. “Such unpleasantries are in the past now. Let’s leave them there.”

He took hold of her arms as she tried to slip past him. “You really think I’ve given up so easily?”

The wine was heavy on his breath. He only drank Paelsian wine, which caused deep inebriation with no chance of illness afterward. This, of course, made it difficult to know when best to stop.

“Easily? What part of this has been easy?”

“Despite everything, I still want you.”

She wrenched away from him, shoving him backward. “Don’t be so pathetic, Aron. You never wanted me. You wanted the position marrying me would put you in. You would be very wise to let it go now. You’ve lost.”

We all have. . for the moment.

Aron narrowed his eyes. “If that’s so, then maybe I’ll set my sights on your little friend, Mira. She wouldn’t deny me-not if she knew what was good for her. Would it make you jealous if I took her as a lover?”

She willed herself to remain calm. “Leave Mira alone, you drunken ass.”

“Or what?”

“Or, trust me, I’ll cut off more than your tongue.”

She had no time for this nonsense, disturbing though it was. Cleo turned and began walking away from him, but his footsteps followed her. She swiftly moved past the library, avoiding looking directly at the portraits of the Damoras that now hung in the place of her family’s.

Eyes focused on her path, she nearly ran right into Magnus as he emerged from the library, books in his arms. He glanced at her uninterestedly, then looked over her shoulder. At the sight of Magnus, Aron’s steps faltered. He nodded to the prince and continued on past them, slowly, to disappear around the next corner.

“Seems you’re being pursued, princess. My father’s new kings-liege doesn’t give up on true love easily, does he?”

True love. Such a notion was laughable. “He will. Eventually.”

She eyed the books the prince held. It surprised her to see they all had to do with magic and legend-books she’d already skimmed only to find they held no useful answers.

He noticed that his selections had drawn her attention. “Just a little light reading to pass the boring days.”

She chanced a look into his dark brown eyes. “You believe in magic?”

“Of course not. Only a fool would believe in such nonsense.” He gave her an unpleasant smirk. “You care what I might believe in?”

“I thought you only cared about power and position at any cost. What more should I know?”

“Nothing at all.” His smirk held, but his eyes were cold. “Seems your other admirer also lingers nearby. So many boys seem to be enamored of you, I’d need a ledger to keep track of them all.”

“Princess,” Nic’s voice called out from her left, “I was sent to find you.”

She tore her attention from the loathsome prince. Nic approached her swiftly, but his wary gaze was focused on Magnus.

The sight of Nic was always a relief and lightened her mood-even in the presence of an enemy. But today, her expression soured to see his clothes. Not clothes. Uniform.

Red. Familiar. Hateful. But necessary.

After finding Nic toiling in the stables, and the morning after her shocking and unwelcome visit from Jonas Agallon in the darkness of her chambers, Cleo had gone directly to the king himself. She made no mention of the rebel but asked-or, rather, begged-for Nic to be reassigned to another part of the palace. Magnus had been present during this and had argued for Nic to remain indefinitely exactly where he was.

“You sent the former king’s squire to work in the stables and didn’t tell me?” the king asked, perplexed. “Such a boy would have more value than that to me elsewhere.”

Cleo had been surprised to learn Magnus hadn’t shared anything with his father about what Nic had done to gain him such a punishment. Nor did the prince choose to reveal such details presently. Perhaps he was ashamed and embarrassed by what had happened in Paelsia the day he’d killed Theon.

He should be.

“There are reasons for everything I do,” was all Magnus would say. “Nicolo Cassian deserves to remain in the horse filth indefinitely.”

“Unless you can give me a solid reason why, I will have to disagree with you.”

Magnus kept his mouth closed but cast a dark look at Cleo, who inwardly glowed from this small victory.

Cleo had won this round. However, instead of shoveling muck and horse filth, Nic had been assigned to the palace guard and was now forced to wear the uniform of their enemy. Nic’s jaw was tight and his focus didn’t leave Magnus. “Princess, is everything all right?”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “As well as can be expected.”

Magnus actually snorted at this. “Don’t worry. I haven’t heaped any indignities upon your fair princess today. Then again, it is quite early.”

Nic’s gaze burned with hatred. “If you should ever think to harm her, you will answer to me.”

“And you should be very careful how you speak to your superiors. That sounded very near a threat.”

“Make no mistake, Prince Magnus, no matter how low you try to push me, I won’t let anything unpleasant happen to Cleo ever again.”

Magnus’s expression remained amused. “You entertain me, Cassian. Perhaps I’m glad I didn’t ask for your head.”

“Why didn’t you?” Cleo asked curiously. “And why didn’t you tell the king what happened that day?”

Magnus’s mouth tightened. “I felt it. . unnecessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must visit my sister. May you have a fruitful journey to Hawk’s Brow with my mother, princess.”

Cleo studied the prince as he walked away. The boy was a complete and utter enigma to her.

She preferred to keep it that way.

“I hate him,” Nic said through clenched teeth.

“Really?” Cleo turned to him, angry now. “You hide it so well.”

“You expect me to-”

“You must not say such things to him no matter how you feel! Say them to me in confidence, but not to him. He could still order your execution for the slightest insult and you know it!”

Nic grimaced, eyes now lowered to the ground. “You’re right. Apologies, Cleo.”

“No apologies necessary. I only ask that you be more careful.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I refuse to lose you. Ever. Understand?”

“The feeling’s entirely mutual.” He was smiling now.

“What is it?” she asked, confused. She saw no humor at all in this conversation.

“You’re different than you used to be. More opinionated. More. . forceful.” His smile faded. “However, such strength has been forged through pain and loss. I wish I could take it all away so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”

Cleo felt an urge to tell him about her ring, but she held her tongue for fear of endangering him with such information. The ring would remain her secret. . at least until she learned all of its secrets.

“Let’s go,” she said instead. “Off to Hawk’s Brow. I shall insist that you’re to be my personal bodyguard who will stay by my side every moment we’re gone.”

This summoned a grin once again. “Do you need such protection for a simple dress fitting?”

“I think so,” she said, finally finding her own smile. “Don’t forget, I will be forced to spend the entire day in the company of the queen.”

• • •

“I haven’t seen very much of Auranos in my life,” the queen said a few hours later, sitting across from Cleo in the enclosed carriage. They had a half dozen guards on horseback riding in front and behind them. Nic sat up front with the driver, leaving Cleo to her fate within.

“Oh?” She forced herself to respond. To say the ride had been awkward, with the two stuck making small talk about the warm spring weather and the sweeping green landscape stretched out before them, would be putting it mildly.

“Of course, Gaius and I included Auranos in our tour of Mytica after our wedding. Gaius’s father felt it was an excellent idea to strengthen relations between the lands. Alas, it didn’t last long. Apart from our short-lived trip back here ten years ago to meet your family, I’ve remained in Limeros ever since.”

And I can’t wait to send you back there with great force, Cleo thought.

“How did you meet King Gaius?” she asked, feeling as if she was required to keep up her side of this strained conversation, as if she cared to learn more about Queen Althea or her horrible family.

“I was chosen to be his bride. My father was a friend to King Davidus, Gaius’s father. My father was rich. I was. . beautiful. It seemed the perfect match.” The queen folded her hands on her lap, her expression serene. “Arranged marriages are a necessity of royalty, my dear.”

“I know that.” After all, it had been drummed into her head since she was a child.

“You should also know that I love my son very much. I want him to be happy, no matter whom he marries. That Gaius has decided it is to be you, I must admit, gives me some reservation.”

“Really?” That made two of them, but that the queen chose to admit this aloud was very interesting.

“There have been moments of. . strain. . in my marriage.” The queen’s pallid cheeks tightened. “But I have always done what is right to uphold my position as a dutiful wife. For nearly twenty years I have stood by my husband’s side in times both dark and light. Even when I’ve disagreed with his decisions, his actions, I have not publicly said a thing against him. This is how a proper queen must conduct herself.”

“Of course it is,” Cleo said, the words sticking in her throat. That was not how she would conduct herself, if and when she retrieved her kingdom.

“I’m not blind, princess. I see how difficult it’s been for you, and believe me, I do empathize with all you’ve lost due to my husband’s lust for power. But I need you to know one very important thing. . and I mean this with all my heart and soul, speaking as one woman forced into an arranged marriage to another.”

Her soft, almost kind words came as a great surprise. “What is it?”

Queen Althea leaned forward and grasped Cleo’s hands. “If you cause my son any pain, I will see you dead. Do you understand me, my dear?”

The woman said all this quietly, but there was no mistaking the weight of such a warning. A shiver ran down Cleo’s spine. “I understand, your highness.”

“Good.” The queen nodded and released her grip on Cleo’s hands. She glanced out the window. “Ah, very good. We’ve arrived in Hawk’s Brow.”

Heart pounding from the unexpected threat, Cleo peered out the small window to see the city she remembered so well, the home to forty thousand Auranians.

Cleo had always loved it here so much. The color. The spectacle. The flamboyant citizens and the music in the air no matter where one went. The carriage wound its way along streets made from polished, interlocking brick that sparkled under the bright sun. The shops and taverns lining the street gleamed silver and bronze, with bright copper roofs. Large trees heavy with the pink and purple blossoms of the season leaned over the roadways, creating natural arches of colorful and fragrant beauty.

With King Gaius on the throne, she’d expected it to be different now. Perhaps the music would be silenced. The colors would be muted. She’d expected to see shutters closed as the carriage rolled past small homes and larger villas.

But there was nothing like that. The city seemed much the same as the last time she’d been here, with one major difference. Red uniformed guards spotted the cityscape like drops of blood, mixing with Auranians as if this was a normal sight.

The king wished to rule over her people, to fool them into believing he was a good king with an unfortunately harsh reputation. It was easier to control gullible citizens fearful of losing their status or lifestyle than those who were downtrodden and abused and motivated to rise up and oppose him. So, except for some increased security, Hawk’s Brow appeared just as it had the last time she was here.

She should be glad for this, that her people were not suffering as horribly as she’d expected with a greedy king perched upon Auranos’s throne.

Instead, cold dread slithered into her gut.

This will not last.

How long would it be before everything changed and the people here, unsuspecting and soft from generations of luxurious living, would feel the pain caused by the King of Blood ruling over them? Or before those who did not so readily accept their new king caused enough unrest to unleash his wrath upon the innocent, rather than only upon accused rebels? It was a disturbing thought.

The carriage came to a halt in front of the dress shop Cleo remembered so well. There was a crowd of about a hundred citizens gathered here, a burst of welcome color and friendly greeting.

“Princess Cleo!” a group of young girls called out to her. “We love you!”

Their collective voices caused a lump in her throat. She waved from the window in their direction and tried to smile brightly.

Nic jumped down off the top of the carriage to open the door and help the queen out and then Cleo herself. “And here we are,” he said, a half grin on his face.

“Here we are.”

He lowered his voice so the queen would not hear. “Are you ready for this?”

“I suppose I must act as if I am.”

“A warning. Do not look to your left if you wish to keep ahold of your breakfast.”

Of course, with a warning like that, she had to look to her left. There, two artists were toiling feverishly on a mural on the side of a popular tavern: a plaster fresco that looked a great deal like a portrait of her and Magnus. She shuddered.

“How can they accept all this so easily?” she whispered. “Are they really so naive?”

“Not everyone,” Nic replied, his jaw tight. “But I think most are too afraid to see the truth.”

A familiar man moved out of the store before them and rushed enthusiastically toward Cleo and the queen. The tunic he wore was the most vivid shade of purple Cleo had ever seen. It reminded her of squashed grapes on the brightest summer day. He was completely bald, and his large ears gleamed with gold hoop earrings.

He bowed so deeply it looked painful. “Queen Althea, your gracious majesty. I am Lorenzo Tavera. I am deeply honored to welcome you to my humble store.”

The store he referred to could never honestly be described as humble. It was roughly the size of Aron’s family’s large villa in the palace city, three stories tall and encased in sparkling stained glass windows trimmed with silver and gold.

“I am pleased to be here,” she replied. “I was told you are the best dressmaker in this or any other land.”

“If I might be so bold to say, you were told correctly, your highness.”

The queen extended her hand and Lorenzo kissed her ring with a loud smacking sound.

“And Princess Cleiona, I’m very pleased to see you again.” Lorenzo squeezed her hands. Despite the joviality in his tone, his searching gaze held a momentary glimpse of both grief and sympathy.

She swallowed hard. “And I you, Lorenzo.”

“It’s my true privilege to create your wedding gown.”

“As it will be my true privilege to wear it.”

He nodded once, shallowly, then tore his gaze from hers to look at the queen, flashing her a big smile. “Let us go inside, your majesty. I have something very special to show you.”

The queen raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “To show me? Really?”

“Yes. Please, follow me.”

Inside the store waited a dozen attendants and seamstresses, lined up six on each side, their heads lowered obediently. The expansive store was lined with bolts of silk, satin, jacquard, and lace for as far as the eye could see.

“I have been working very hard on a dress befitting a queen of your high esteem.” Lorenzo moved toward a mannequin that had been draped in a magnificent indigo gown. It was embroidered with gold thread and beaded with sparkling stones. “I believe I’ve succeeded. What do you think of this, your majesty?”

“It’s divine,” the queen said, her normally expressionless face tinged with the tiniest pink, her words hushed. “Beautiful. This is my absolute favorite color. Did you know that?”

Lorenzo smiled. “Perhaps.”

This vibrant shade was the queen’s favorite? Cleo had never seen her in anything that wasn’t black, gray, or a muted shade of steely green. Since Magnus and his father also wore nothing but black, she’d assumed it was a strange Limerian custom at odds with the red-as-blood uniforms.

The queen’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Who have you been speaking to about me that would give you such personal information?”

Caution shone now in Lorenzo’s gaze. “It was in my previous correspondence with the king. I asked. He responded.”

“How strange,” she murmured. “I had no idea Gaius even knew my favorite color.” She turned her attention to the gown again. “I would like to try it on.”

“Of course, your majesty. I will attend to you myself.” There was a fine sheen of perspiration on Lorenzo’s brow now at having come very close to offending such a powerful woman. “Princess, if you please, you can go with my seamstress into the fitting room. I will be with you as soon as I can.”

A pretty young girl approached, curtseying before her.

“I am Nerissa,” she said. “Please, your grace, follow me.”

Cleo glanced toward the queen, but the woman’s attention was fully fixed on the beautiful gown and nothing but. Nic stayed by her side as Cleo began to follow the attendant.

“I’m coming with you,” he said when she looked at him curiously. “You did want me to be your bodyguard today, remember?”

“This is a dress fitting,” Cleo said. “Therefore, I will be undressing.”

“A hardship for me to endure, I agree.” Again, that welcome grin of his flickered on his lips. “But I will try to keep my focus.”

She stifled a laugh. “You will wait outside this door for me to finish.”

“But, princess-”

“Nic, please. Do as I ask. Don’t make a fuss.”

He stopped walking and bowed his head. “As you command, your highness.”

Cleo needed as few people in this room as possible. When Lorenzo entered, she would send the attendant away so she could speak with him privately about secretly helping her.

Nerissa led the way into the large fitting room, closing the door between them and Nic. Inside there were messy swaths of cloth and half-made gowns. On one mannequin in the center of the room was Cleo’s wedding gown. It was made of silk and lace with shades of gold and ivory. It had tiny pearls, sapphires, and diamonds stitched into patterns of swirling flowers on the bodice. The translucent, flowing sleeves appeared to be as light as air.

The gown was so beautiful that it took her breath away. “Nerissa. . Lorenzo completely outdid himself.”

There was no reply.

She turned. “Nerissa?”

The girl was gone. Only then did Cleo notice how dark it was. Sunlight from the window shone upon the area of the dress, but not into the corners of the cavernous room.

“Swayed by pretty frocks, your highness?” a voice said from the shadows. “Why am I not surprised?”

Her heart began to pound hard. “You.”

“I did say you’d be seeing me again soon.”

Jonas Agallon stood in the shadows at the edge of the room, where he must have been since she entered. She hadn’t noticed him. Which surprised her, since now she couldn’t see anything else but him. He wore tan leather trousers, black leather boots, and a simple brown tunic that bore a slight rip in the sleeve. As he drew alarmingly close to her, he smelled not of dirt and sweat, which she might have expected, but the clean scent of the forest, just as he had when he’d snuck into her chambers.

Her gaze scanned the room again as quickly as she could. “What did you do to Nerissa?”

“Nerissa is a help to me and my rebels. One of those girls you mentioned before who says yes to what I ask of them instead of giving me a difficult time. You might learn much from her.”

“I’m surprised at you for endangering her. There are more than a dozen guards in the very next room who are on alert for any rebel activity.”

It was an exaggeration, but there was no reason he had to know this. The king did not take the threat of outside attack lightly, yet he’d sent so very few guards along on this trip.

Jonas didn’t seem alarmed at the threat of guards. He touched the sleeve of the wedding gown, sliding the sheer material between his fingers. “Have you given any more thought to my proposition?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is about? Another attempt to woo me to the rebel cause?”

“Believe me, princess, I would never attempt to woo you. Far too much work for very little reward.” A smile tugged at his lips. “So here you are, ready to be fitted in the gown you will wear to wed Prince Magnus. Very soon you’ll truly be one of them.”

“A gown does not make a bride, just as a few empty threats do not make a rebel.”

His grin fell away. “The tongue of a snake. Yes, I think you’ll fit in well with the Damoras.”

“What do you want, once and for all? Speak quickly and leave. I have no patience for useless games.”

“I’m asking you again. Will you help me destroy the king?”

Without realizing it, she’d drawn closer to the rebel-far closer than was comfortable. She couldn’t shout, couldn’t raise her voice louder than a harsh whisper. They were now very nearly touching. She forced herself not to take a shaky step back and show him that his proximity disturbed her.

She’d given this much thought since she’d last seen him. Perhaps this was an opportunity that could serve her well. She had put far too much hope into the idea of her ring leading her to answers that might never come.

Her stomach fluttered nervously. “If I help you, how do I know it will benefit me?”

Jonas’s brows drew together. “If you help me, I believe we’ll have a better chance of defeating the king currently seated upon your throne. Sounds beneficial to me.”

She wrung her hands. “I don’t know.”

“This is not an answer helpful to either of us.”

“What are the rebels’ plans to overthrow King Gaius?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

There was a knock on the door, then a rattle of the handle. The door was locked.

“Princess?” It was Nic. “Is everything all right in there?”

Jonas swore under his breath. “I suppose I can tell you part of my plan-my immediate plan. Had you been more agreeable the last time we spoke, it might not have come to this.”

She tore her gaze from the wooden door. “What? Speak quickly. They’ll be coming in here in moments.”

“Concerned for my safety?”

“No, for mine. If I’m found alone in a room with a rebel-”

“It would put a damper on your betrothal to the prince, wouldn’t it?”

“And cost both of us our lives. You must leave while there’s time.”

“You’re coming with me.”

He must be mad. “I’m doing no such thing.”

Jonas shook his head. “Apologies, your highness, but you really should have said yes the last time we spoke. It might have helped avoid the necessity of this.”

Alarm grew in her chest at the dark look that had come over his expression. She turned to the door and opened her mouth to yell for help. Nic now banged on the door, attempting to break it open.

Jonas was behind her, crushing her back against his chest. His hand covered her mouth-it held a cloth that smelled strange. Of strong herbs.

“You won’t believe me,” he said into her ear, “but I mean you no harm.”

She’d smelled the same thing once-a healer had used it to induce sleep when she’d broken her ankle as a child. To avoid further pain, and for him to have the opportunity to reset the broken bone, he’d administered this powerful medicine.

She tried to scream but found she had no voice. Darkness fell all around her.