Rebel Spring

CHAPTER 25

CLEO

AURANOS

Aron was present at dawn as Cleo prepared herself to leave for the dreaded wedding tour.

“May you have a safe journey, princess,” he said, accompanying her through the halls toward the waiting carriages. “I will be leading the charge to find the murderer of the queen while you’re gone. Prince Magnus will join me on the hunt the moment he returns if the rebel is still at large.”

Leading the charge? Aron? “Obviously the king has great faith in your abilities as kingsliege.”

“He does. More than you know.” Aron leaned closer to speak confidentially. “I couldn’t help but notice that the prince left your wedding chambers last night only minutes after entering. Is there a problem already in your joyous union?”

“None at all.” She fixed a bland smile on her lips. “I shall miss you while I’m away, Lord Aron. You are so very amusing to me.”

He frowned. “Cleo-”

“It’s Princess Cleiona. Take care to remember my official title, especially now that I’m happily married to the king’s son. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She brushed past him and continued to the carriage without further delay.

What a jackass. It did give her comfort to know that he was part of the hunt for Jonas; that Jonas had even been pinpointed as the queen’s murderer was ridiculous. They were only looking for a reason to kill the rebel leader with full support of any citizens who might see him, and they’d found it. But with such ineptitude and with Aron “leading the charge,” the rebel leader would surely remain free forever.

I will see you again, rebel, she thought. Someday. Somewhere. Till then, please be safe.

And so the wedding tour began. They were scheduled to wind through Auranos before moving on to Paelsia and Limeros. From town to town, the appearances varied only slightly. Cleo and Magnus emerged before a gathered crowd, usually an enthusiastic one, before listening graciously to mayors’ speeches and bards’ ballads. In a village on the southern coast of Auranos, a small group of children performed a skit for Cleo and Magnus’s amusement. The children were adorable and so excited about this royal visit, and Cleo tried her very best to appear attentive and enthusiastic. Magnus, however, just looked bored with all of it and already impatient for the tour to be over so he could join Aron and the king’s soldiers on the hunt for Jonas.

After the skit was over, there was a greeting line. Cleo performed her actions by habit until one woman clutched Cleo’s hand and looked into her eyes with worry.

“Are you all right, princess?” she whispered so no one except Cleo could hear.

A lump immediately formed in Cleo’s throat, but she tried to smile. “Yes, of course. I am perfectly well. Much gratitude for your village’s warm welcome to me and my-and the prince.”

She couldn’t call him husband.

All across her beloved Auranos, most citizens welcomed the royal couple with great fanfare, exactly as the king had predicted. But in every crowd there were a few disbelievers-those who clung to sidelines and shadows, signs of dread and suspicion in their eyes. They knew, Cleo saw, that this union was not as glorious or exciting as their neighbors believed. They knew that the king was not to be trusted-that his words were just that, and promises could be broken as easily as bones.

How she wished she could assure this small but noticeable percentage that one day she would change things for the better-for everyone. But no, she had to play the part of a young princess in love with her new husband in order to ensure her own survival.

There was a bright side. While away from the palace, she realized, she’d have another, better chance to gather information about local folklore and legends; she would learn more about the Kindred and how her ring could play a part in finding it-all under Magnus’s nose.

The thought warmed her at night and helped keep her spirits high during the day. Still, for a journey surrounded by attendants and guards, not to mention the sullen, untalkative prince, she quickly became desperately lonely.

It was at King’s Harbor, where they were about to board a ship to take them to Trader’s Harbor in Paelsia, that she spotted Nic standing on the dock by the large black ship that rose from the water like a sea monster. He wore his red uniform like every other Limerian guard who’d accompanied Cleo and Magnus on this journey. His carrot-red hair stuck up in every direction. And he had a huge grin on his face.

Cleo’s mouth fell open at the sight of her dearest friend, but she stopped herself from immediately running to him and throwing herself into his arms.

“Something wrong, princess?” Magnus asked.

“It’s just. . Nic.” Her heart pounded. “He’s here.”

“Yes, he is.”

“You’re not surprised?”

“No. I requested it.”

She turned to stare at him with shock and suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Your misery has been palpable for days, and it reflects poorly on me. For some reason, you value the presence of this fool. So here he is for the rest of the tour until I can finally get back to the castle and head out on a journey that really matters to me. He can handle our luggage and clean up after the horses. I’m sure I’ll find many interesting uses for him.”

Disbelief clouded her thoughts. “You summoned him here so I wouldn’t be miserable.”

Magnus’s upper lip thinned. “I need you to keep up your end of the bargain as we continue to feed these stupid people my father’s pretty lies. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight at the thought that he’d do something so unexpectedly kind, despite his harsh words.

He offered her the barest edge of a glance. “Save your gratitude. I don’t need it.”

She sent a glare in his direction, but it was wasted. He’d already moved away to speak with a guard near the ship.

Cleo approached Nic as regally as possible but couldn’t keep her grin from spreading. “You’re here.”

He smiled too, far too broadly to appear professional. “On royal orders.”

“Well, I’m so glad you’re being royally ordered around.”

“In this instance, I’d have to agree.”

With Nic in tow, the journey continued on to Paelsia, and they toured through several villages and vineyards-though never coming near the Imperial Road, Cleo noticed. The poor villagers gathered to watch silently. Cleo’s presence did coax some children out of their homes, and they were fascinated by her beautiful and colorful dresses. The children’s eyes were filled with the boundless hope their elders lacked. Noticing this broke Cleo’s heart.

Paelsians were not fooled as Auranians were by anything the king said. These people had already seen his deception, his cruelty, with their own eyes. Such things could not be forgotten or forgiven.

By the time their entourage sailed up the coast to Limeros’s Black Harbor, Cleo was dismayed that she’d learned nothing useful about her ring, which sat heavy on her finger as it had since she first left the City of Gold. Nor had she learned anything more than repeated stories about the Kindred. The time to find such information grew shorter with every day that passed, and her anxiety increased.

Now that their journey had reached Limeros, Cleo had to bundle up in a thick ermine-lined cloak to keep out the chill of the frigid, frozen landscape. Where Auranos had a palace that literally sparkled like a jewel under the bright sunshine, the Limerian castle seemed to absorb light, killing it on contact. It was large and black and ominous, its spires rising up into the cold sky like the claws of a demon. Its windows were the only things that reflected light, much like the eyes of some ravenous beast.

Magnus’s true home suited him perfectly.

“Is that all of them?” Magnus asked, eyeing the trunks that Nic had unloaded from the carriages.

“It is, your grace.” To his credit, Nic managed to say this without sounding sarcastic. Sweat coated Nic’s brow after he’d single-handedly dragged all their luggage chests into the castle.

“Good. Now go see to the horses. I must check if there are any messages waiting for me here from my father.” He turned on the heels of his black leather boots and stalked off down the hall without another word.

“I hate him,” Nic snarled.

“So do I,” Cleo replied.

“Could have fooled me by how much you’ve been snuggling up to him on this trip.”

She grabbed his arm as he was about to walk away, digging her fingers in until he looked at her again. “Anything you think you see between us is for show only. Remember that.”

Nic’s shoulders slumped. “Apologies, Cleo. Of course I know that. This all must be so hard for you.”

“Thank the goddess you’re here with me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

She grinned, his hurtful words already forgotten. “I mean, who else would carry my chests of gowns so well?”

He laughed as she pulled him into a tight hug, never wanting to let him go. “I’m here for you, Cleo. Whenever you need me.”

She nodded, pressing her face against the rough fabric of his uniform. “I know.”

“You’re so brave-spending time with that monster. Forced to share his bed.” A look of hatred crossed his face as he leaned back from her. “Every night I imagine killing him for you.”

Cleo grabbed hold of Nic’s hands, squeezing them tightly in hers. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle the prince.” She wanted to tell him that Magnus did not share her bed and that she spent every night alone, but she held her tongue. No one, not even Nic, could know such things. “Please rest up so you can be by my side tomorrow. I need all the support I can get.”

“I’ll rest up. As soon as I take care of the horses for his majesty.”

“See you tomorrow.” She went up on her tiptoes to kiss Nic’s cheek. At the last moment he turned his face so she kissed his lips instead.

This earned her a newly brightened ear-to-ear grin. “Till tomorrow, princess.”

• • •

After a sleepless night, she’d been woken early by Dora and Helena, who were just as disrespectful to her here as they were at the Auranian castle. They helped her dress and look presentable. She wore a new fur-lined cloak draped over one of her finest new gowns. This, as well as the cloak, was red, to pay tribute to the

official color of Limeros. The color of blood. Likely, not a coincidence at all. On the sleeves of the gown, golden snakes were embroidered, the kingdom’s sigil. Also appropriate for a kingdom filled to overflowing with serpents.

Outside the castle, following in Magnus’s footsteps, she turned a distracted glance toward the gathered nobles who’d joined them today for an official presentation of a wedding gift by Lord Gareth, a close friend of the king’s. To their left was a pathway that wound through the ice gardens and into an intricate labyrinth of frost-covered hedges. To the right was a large clearing with a long, rectangular frozen pond, which led toward the castle itself. Beautiful but stark and pristine. Not an ounce of warmth existed in any direction.

“This is said to have belonged to the Watchers themselves.”

Her gaze immediately snapped back to Lord Gareth. She finally noticed the object they had halted near, the gift from Lord Gareth. It was a carved stone wheel taller than Cleo’s shoulder that protruded from the frozen ground at the entrance to the gardens.

“What about the Watchers?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Oh yes,” Magnus said. “Please tell us. It’s all so fascinating.”

It was rare that the prince said anything that didn’t mock whomever he spoke with. It was equally rare, she’d found, that anyone caught on to this as easily as she did.

Cleo remembered the rebel boy, Tarus, mentioning stone wheels that were associated with the Watchers and the Sanctuary. This couldn’t possibly be the same thing. Could it?

The balding but distinguished-looking lord clasped his hands in front of him, rocking on his heels, seemingly pleased he now had the royal couple’s full attention. “The Watchers watch us in the form of hawks.”

“A child’s tale I’ve heard a thousand times,” Magnus said, dismissively.

“Is it? Or is it true?” The lord appeared to welcome the chance to debate this. “Magic is very real, your highness.”

Magnus watched him, his gaze steady. “What makes you believe that?”

“I’ve seen many things that can’t be explained. I’ve met witches who can reach into themselves and use small pieces of elementia to create magic in the mortal world.”

Every piece of Cleo’s attention was now focused entirely on this man. This was it. This man could be the one to tell her what she needed to know most. “Is the Kindred real? I’ve heard stories about the elemental crystals, but they could just be legend.”

He glanced at her. “I believe it’s true. There is a whispered prophecy that says when the sorceress is reborn, she will be the one who leads the way to the Kindred.”

Cleo listened intently. A sorceress would lead the way? There was one thing she believed most of all-that the ring she now wore had once belonged to the sorceress Eva.

What did this mean?

The skies were gray today and snowflakes began to fall, speckling Cleo’s red cloak and the clothes of the nearby dignitaries with dots of white.

“Tell us more about this wheel, Lord Gareth,” Magnus said.

Heart pounding, she twisted her hands together, feeling the cool surface of her amethyst ring beneath her touch. She glanced toward Nic, who stood stiffly next to the other guards, as still as statues. His disdainful gaze was fixed entirely on Magnus.

The man moved toward the wheel and slid his hand over the curve of it. “Wheels identical to this are scattered across Mytica. For centuries no one has understood what they are and where they come from. Only that they’re very old and somehow connected to the Watchers.”

“How many wheels are there?” Cleo asked.

“A dozen have been found and documented. Each exactly the same but in different stages of disrepair.”

“How do you know they have something to do with the Watchers?” she asked, ignoring Magnus’s curious look at her.

The lord kept his hand on the wheel as he admired the carved surface of it. “There was an old man who lived in northern Limeros. Near the end of his days, he swore to all who’d listen that he was an exiled Watcher who had left the Sanctuary never to return. Once here, he became mortal, he aged, he became senile. His children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren listened patiently to his ramblings, but didn’t think much of it. He spoke of the wheels being here for a reason. He asked to be taken to one so he could touch immortality once again.”

The stone wheel seemed so innocuous to her, something no one would ever look twice at. “And did he?”

“No. He died before that could happen.”

“Likely, just an old man who didn’t know what he was saying.” Magnus’s expression was completely unreadable. “Much gratitude for this rare and generous gift, Lord Gareth. The wheel will be the highlight of this garden, I’m sure.”

“It’s my pleasure, Prince Magnus, Princess Cleo. May you have many happy years together.” He bowed and moved back to join the others.

“Prince Magnus!” a woman with gray hair and a wrinkled face called out to him. “Might I have a word? My son is still not betrothed and I was thinking about your sister. . well, could we speak?”

“This tour cannot come to an end soon enough,” he muttered before moving off to join the enthusiastic woman.

Now alone, Cleo touched the smooth, cold surface of the large wheel. A skilled hand had created this once, many years ago.

“It’s how they get back and forth between the mortal world and the Sanctuary in hawk form,” Tarus had told her. “They have these magical, carved stone wheels hidden here and there. Might look like nothing but a ruin to us, but without the wheels, they’re trapped here.”

But this stone had been moved from its original location. Would it still work?

After a moment, the stone, which had been cold as ice beneath her touch, began to warm.

Her heart quickened to see her ring begin to glow-and something deep within the purple stone, something that looked like sparkling, molten gold, started to swirl.

The wheel quickly grew as hot as fire beneath her touch and a tremor of energy shot up her arm. Fear got the better of her, and she yanked her hand back. The stone in her ring stopped glowing, but she was captivated by that small speck of gold still visible down deep-so deep she felt as if she might fall into it and lose herself.

A wave of dizziness swept through her and she swayed on her feet before her legs gave out completely.

But she didn’t fall. Someone was there, reaching an arm around her waist to steady her. She looked up expecting to see Nic, but it was Magnus.

His dark brows were drawn tightly together. “Problem, princess?”

A quick glance at the gathered crowd showed that no one watched her with anything more than concern over her current state of well-being. No one guessed what she’d just seen.

The noblewoman Magnus had been speaking to gawked at her. “She’s so pale. Is she well?”

“Well enough,” Magnus replied, his words clipped. “Much gratitude for your concern, Lady Sophia. I think I’ll take a short walk with my. . with the princess before my speech so she can clear her head. Perhaps all this excitement is too much for her. Is that what it is?”

“Yes, of course. I–I need to clear my head.” Cleo swallowed hard and glanced at her ring. The swirling had stopped and the strange speck of molten gold was no longer visible within the stone.

Nic gave her a strained and concerned look as Magnus led her away and toward the labyrinth.

What would have happened if she’d been brave enough to keep her hand pressed against the wheel? Would she-a mere mortal-be able to journey to the Sanctuary? Would it offer her some glimpse as to where to find the Kindred?

If she didn’t find the answers, she would allow Auranos to continue to be held under the iron fist of King Gaius. And she’d be letting her father down. How she wished he was still alive to guide her now. Sometimes when she least expected it-like now-the bottomless emptiness of all she’d lost mercilessly pulled her downward.

“Is there something wrong?” Magnus asked. “You’re upset.”

Cleo wiped away a tear and didn’t bother looking directly at him. “Do you care?”

“I care that a sobbing princess doesn’t present a very good picture of a happy marriage.”

“I’m not sobbing.” She gave him a hard look. “Perhaps you’d prefer it if I were.”

“Such belligerence, princess. Whatever have I done to deserve this today?”

“You’re breathing.” The words were out before she could restrain them, and she bit into her lower lip. She decided to change the subject. “What is this place?”

“The Limerian palace grounds, of course.”

“No, I mean this place. This maze. Why’s it here?”

He glanced around. “Afraid of getting lost?”

“Can’t you just answer a simple question without being difficult?” Again, she bit her lip and studied the ground, fighting her constant frustration when it came to dealing with the prince.

Magnus let out a soft snort. “I don’t think you’re capable of asking simple questions. But all right. I’ll play along. This was a present for my sister six years ago. Lord Psellos wanted to garner favor for his son and an eventual betrothal, so he had this constructed as a birthday present.” His lips curved at the memory, the smile helping to soften his sharp features. “Lucia loved this maze. She’d challenge others to race through it. Often, she’d have to go back in to retrieve someone who’d become hopelessly lost. Usually it was me.”

The swift change in Magnus’s mood as he spoke of Lucia was surprising. Cleo recalled the sordid gossip Dora and Helena had shared with her about Magnus and Lucia. “You love your sister.”

His jaw tightened and he didn’t reply for a moment. “You think me incapable of such an emotion?”

“Again, that’s not really an answer, is it?”

“Perhaps it’s a question that doesn’t deserve one.”

She glared at him. “For a moment I thought. .”

“What, princess?” He eyed her. “That you’d found more evidence of that heart you continue to question?”

As if such a discovery were even possible. “I would never make that mistake. After all, you are your father’s son.”

“Yes. And you must never forget it.” His jaw tensed. “It’s nearly time for my speech. There are certain expectations of being the son of King Gaius. Making speeches is one of them. If nothing else, it brings this tour to an end. I’ve been receiving updates and understand that Lord Aron has thus far failed to capture the rebel leader. I will join the search the moment I return to Auranos.”

That Jonas was still free was a great relief. Cleo crossed her arms, trying to block out the chill by pulling her fox fur cloak tighter against her throat. For a moment, she grappled for what to say next. She didn’t wish to discuss Jonas or the rebels. Such dangerous topics could lead her onto treacherous ground. It was best to focus on today. On Magnus’s upcoming duties as heir to the king’s stolen crown. “Your father excels at speechmaking.”

“He does indeed.”

Cleo frowned at him as she realized something very important. “Wait. You’re stalling, aren’t you?”

“Stalling?”

“You brought me for this tour of the maze not to help clear my head, but to delay your speech. It’s officially your first one, isn’t it? You’re nervous about it.”

Magnus stared at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He said one thing yet acted another way. But she could suddenly see him clearly-clearer than ever before. “King Gaius adores the sound of his own voice. But you. . you’re different.” And here she’d believed father and son were alike in every way.

“I don’t need to listen to this nonsense.”

His steps picked up speed as he continued through the maze. Cleo was now completely lost. She had to keep pace with him or he might leave her behind to freeze to death. She pulled at her crimson skirts to keep them from dragging on the ground and getting damp from the frost.

“Public speaking should come naturally to you, given your heritage.”

He gave her a dark look over his shoulder. “Spare your breath, princess. I don’t need any words of encouragement from you.”

Annoyance flared within her, chasing away her bemusement. “Good. Because I don’t really care. I hope you make a fool of yourself. I hope they laugh at you. It would serve you right.”

The wounded look this statement received surprised her.

Cleo found it difficult to believe this horrible boy could possibly lack confidence at something so expected of royalty. Magnus effortlessly managed to intimidate everyone who crossed his path-his very presence, his height, his strength, his position and title, the harsh tone of his voice; they all ensured that anyone with less power cowered before him.

Had she managed to find a weakness?

There was an opening in the snow-encrusted hedge up ahead. They’d reached the end of the maze. Cleo let out a sigh of relief as she ran her thumb over the surface of her ring. As if to mirror her nervous gesture, Magnus ran his fingers over his scar. She’d noticed it was something he did regularly, if unconsciously.

“That happened when your family visited my father ten years ago. I remember.” Her curiosity got the better of her. She had to ask. “I assume it was an assault by a stranger, not an accident.”

The look he turned on her held nothing pleasant in it. “Neither an assault by a stranger or an accident. It was a punishment, handed forth from my father himself to forever remind me of my crime.”

Her eyes widened. His own father cut him so horribly? “What crime did you commit as a child to warrant such a punishment?”

His hand dropped to his side, his expression equal parts hard-edged and wistful. “For once in my life, I wanted to possess something beautiful, even if it meant I had to steal it. Clearly, I learned my lesson.”

Stunned, Cleo watched him rejoin the gathered crowd. Many lords and other important men waited to clasp his hand in friendship. His confusing words repeated in Cleo’s mind as their wives gathered around her, welcoming her to Limeros and congratulating her on her marriage to the prince.

They were then led back toward the castle, with the swelling crowd gathered in the palace square awaiting Magnus’s speech, cheering the very sight of the two royals. A cloaked figure parted from the crowd and began to swiftly move toward Cleo and Magnus’s entourage. He was so subtle that no one paid him any attention until he was only ten paces away, at which point he pulled a dagger from beneath his cloak and lurched forward.

Magnus lunged and thrust his arm out, catching Cleo across her chest as he shoved her back. She fell hard to the ground. The man arched the dagger toward Magnus, catching him in the arm before the prince deflected the blow and slammed his fist into the man’s stomach.

The rest of the guards restrained the man, quickly disarming him. Nic was at Cleo’s side then, helping her back to her feet. She stared at Magnus, now holding his injured arm, a look of rage on his face as he glared at his attacker.

“Who are you?” Magnus snarled.

The guards yanked back his hood. For a crazy, heart-stopping moment, Cleo was certain it would be Jonas.

But it wasn’t. It was a boy not much older than Magnus whom she’d never seen before today.

“Who am I?” he snapped. “I’m someone whose village you destroyed. Whose people you enslaved to work your precious road. Someone who sees through your father’s lies and wants to watch you both bleed and die.”

“Is that so?” Magnus stepped forward to inspect the boy with withering distaste. “It seems you’ve failed in your quest.”

“She didn’t want me to try to kill you.” The boy struggled against those who held him firmly in place. “I disagreed.”

“She? Who are you talking about?”

The would-be assassin raised his chin, his eyes cold and full of challenge. “The Watcher who speaks to me in dreams. Who guides me. Who gives me hope that not all is lost. Who tells me that that which is lost should never be found.”

Magnus’s gaze narrowed. “And this. . Watcher. . didn’t want you to try to kill me.”

“On that much we disagreed.”

“Obviously.”

Twisting her ring nervously, Cleo watched Magnus closely for his reaction. The prince claimed not to believe in magic and all but mocked Lord Gareth for his choice of wedding gift. Yet a mention of Watchers now seemed to give him pause.

An assassination attempt-especially one as bold and as public as this-should earn an immediate command of execution.

Silence fell as all waited for Magnus’s decision.

“Take him to the dungeon,” he said, finally. “But not the one here. Take him to Auranos where he’ll be questioned further. I’ll send message to my father today.”

“Your highness, are you certain that’s what you want?” a guard asked.

Magnus sent a cutting look in the man’s direction. “Don’t question me. Just do it.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Cleo watched tensely as the boy was dragged away, a hundred questions swirling in her mind. Was what he claimed real? Or was the boy simply mad?

Why did Magnus want him returned to Auranos for questioning? Did the prince believe what he’d said?

“Your highness,” another guard said, approaching Magnus. “My deepest apologies that he was able to get so close to you.”

Magnus’s jaw tensed. “See that it doesn’t happen again or you’ll be joining him.”

“Yes, your highness. Your arm. .”

“It’s nothing. Lead the way to the balcony.”

“That son of a bitch shoved you,” Nic whispered to Cleo. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” But confusion still clouded her thoughts and not only about the boy’s claims. Magnus had acted instinctively at the sight of the dagger. He hadn’t shoved her to be cruel. He’d done it to. . protect her.

Cleo was breathless as they were led to the black balcony overlooking the gathered crowd in the square below. Snow still fell in soft flakes, coating the ground with a layer of pristine white. The sky was the color of slate. The moment she and the prince came out into view, the crowd began to cheer at the top of their voices. Such a welcome would have been close to pleasant before, but after the drama that had just occurred. .

It was an important reminder that this was all lies. A thin layer of snow that would soon melt to reveal the ugliness that lay beneath its beauty.

The prince moved to the railing, holding up his hands to silence the crowd. And then he began to speak-confident, proud, and with command. . or so it seemed.

His mask was perfectly in place. He was Prince Magnus, heir to the throne. And he held his own, even a short time after an assassination attempt.

Even Cleo had to admit that it was impressive. That he was impressive.

“And here we are,” Magnus said, his voice loud and clear, his breath freezing in the cold air, “after much struggle and conflict. It has not been an easy path, but to achieve great change it takes great strength and fortitude. My father’s road, which will end at the Temple of Valoria, represents this change, this uniting of three lands. Beside me is another symbol of such a change to this kingdom. Princess Cleiona is the bravest girl I’ve ever known-one who has faced so many hardships in such a short time and weathered them all with incredible strength and grace. I’m honored to now stand by her side.”

He flicked her a glance, his gaze hard and unreadable. She returned it with one of her own. Such beautiful words, she could almost fool herself into believing he spoke from his heart.

“I am certain that for every day of happiness the princess and I will share together, this kingdom will benefit in kind.”

Oh, he was droll. And he knew it, too. There was now just the edge of humor in his gaze that he might ever refer to their forced union as a path to romantic bliss.

An uproariously loud cheer accompanied the end of his speech. His shoulders relaxed a fraction-barely noticeable if she hadn’t been looking. Her gaze moved to the tear in his shirt and the wound beneath that still bled, dripping down his arm to fall to the floor.

Red. The color of Limeros.

The crowd had started to chant something, but for a moment she couldn’t understand.

“What are they saying?” she asked.

Magnus’s jaw tensed.

“A kiss,” said Lord Gareth, who stood farther back in the shadows. As one of the king’s closest friends, he had been invited to join them on the balcony for the speech along with several guards, including Nic. “The crowd wishes for the royal couple to show their love with a kiss.”

Magnus turned his head away from the cheering crowd. “I’m not interested in such irrelevant public displays.”

“Perhaps not. But they would like it anyway.”

“A KISS! A KISS!” the crowd chanted.

“I mean,” their advisor continued wryly, “it would not be the first, would it? What difference would such a small request matter to please this hungry crowd?”

“I don’t know,” Cleo began, sickened by the thought of it. How far was she willing to go to appear agreeable? “Quite honestly, it seems like a bad-”

Magnus took a tight hold of her arm and turned her around. Before she could say another word, he put his hand behind her neck, drew her closer to him, and kissed her.

Every muscle in her body stiffened. It was the sensation of being a bird caught in a hunter’s trap. Her wings screamed out for her to fly away as fast and as far as possible. But he held her firmly in place, his mouth against hers, soft but demanding a response.

She gripped the front of his shirt. It was all too much-she wasn’t sure if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer. Much like diving into deep water, she had no idea which way would find her air to breathe or which way would drag her down deeper into the depths where she would surely drown.

And for a moment, just a moment, she found it didn’t seem to matter.

The warmth of his body against hers on such a cold day, his now-familiar scent of sandalwood, the heat of his mouth against hers. . it all made her head spin, and logic fell away.

When he pulled back, her lips felt as if they’d been set ablaze, a fire that continued to burn as bright as the flames now spreading across her cheeks.

Magnus leaned closer so he could whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her already flushed skin.

“Don’t worry, princess. It was the first and last.”

“Good.” Cleo let go of him and moved off the balcony, past Nic, so fast she stumbled on the hem of her red gown. The sound of the crowd’s cheers quickly became a distant echo in her ears.