Rebel Spring

CHAPTER 6

CLEO

AURANOS

As the date of her dreaded wedding drew closer, Cleo’s anxiety grew. She dreamed of escape-of growing wings like a bird and flying away from the palace, never to return.

But, alas, she was a bird still locked tightly in her cage. So, instead of dwelling on what awaited her in the weeks to come, she focused on what she could control. Knowledge. Studies. Praying she could find the answers she sought before it was too late. She found herself moving toward the palace library for the second time that day, but this time she encountered Mira sobbing in the hall outside the library’s tall doors.

“Mira!” Cleo rushed to her and pulled the girl into her arms. “What’s wrong?”

It took a moment, but Cleo’s friend finally managed to form words. “I still can’t find my brother anywhere! They’ve killed him, Cleo. I know it!”

Cleo drew her further away from the Limerian guards that seemed to lurk in every shadow, instructed, she knew, to keep a close eye on the princess lest she stray from the castle.

“Nic’s not dead,” Cleo assured her, tugging Mira’s hands away from her tear-streaked face.

“How do you know?”

“Because if he was, Magnus would have been certain to rub it in. For me to know that Nic had been executed for what he did in Paelsia. .” Even the very thought of it was like a hot poker shoved through her heart. “He knows it would destroy me. And he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me. I know we haven’t been able to find Nic yet, but he’s alive, Mira.” He’s got to be, she thought.

Her words were sinking in. Slowly, Mira regained control and stopped crying. She rubbed her eyes wearily, a trace of anger now lighting within them. “You’re right. The prince would celebrate your pain. I hate him, Cleo. I hate it every time he comes to see Princess Lucia. He’s a beast.”

Cleo had barely seen the prince over the week since he’d chosen to continue this horrible betrothal. It seemed that he wished to have very little to do with Cleo, which was more than fine by her. “I couldn’t agree more. Just try to stay out of his way, all right? How did you slip away from Lucia’s bedside? I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“The queen is visiting her daughter right now. She told me to leave and return later. Of course, I didn’t argue. I’d hoped to find a friendly face in this nest of vipers. Yours is the first I’ve seen today.”

Cleo repressed a smile. Nest of vipers, indeed. “Well, I’m glad for the chance to see you. It’s the only good thing that’s happened all day.”

She stood with her friend at the edge of the hallway, sweeping her gaze over the large portraits of each member of the Bellos family, which lined the hall outside the library doors. She couldn’t look away from the painted eyes of her father. Her last memory of him was of his death in her arms from a wound inflicted during the attack on the castle. In his final moments, he’d given her a ring passed down from generation to generation in her family, a ring said to somehow help lead the way to the Kindred. He hoped, with that magic in her possession, she would be able to crush King Gaius and reclaim the throne. But he’d died before he could tell her anything else.

Cleo believed it to be the very same ring rumored to have belonged to the sorceress Eva, the ring that allowed her to touch the Kindred without being corrupted by the endless elemental power of the lost crystals. Cleo had hidden the ring in her chambers behind a loose stone in her wall, and she’d come here to the library every day since, searching for more information to help her figure out her next move. Her father had believed in her so much, far more than she believed in herself. She couldn’t let him down now.

Mira touched her arm, her eyes now dry. “You’re trying to be so strong, but I know, Cleo. I know how much you miss him. How much you miss Emilia. I miss them too. It’s all right to let yourself cry. I’m here for you.”

Cleo swallowed hard, her heart swelling to know that she had a friend who understood her pain. “I try not to look upon their faces for too long when I come by here. When I see them, I. .” She exhaled shakily. “It so strange. Sometimes I can’t see anything past the darkness of my grief. Other times I’m angry, so angry that they left me to deal with all this on my own. And I know how selfish that sounds, but I can’t help how I feel. So, don’t you see? I can’t let myself cry. If I cry again I might not ever be able to stop.”

“You should know, princess. .” Aron’s voice cut between them as effectively as the edge of a blade. “The king has instructed that these portraits-apart from the one of you, of course-are to be taken down and replaced with those of the Damoras.”

Cleo spun to face yet another lurker in the shadows. That was what Aron did now that their engagement was called off. Lurk.

She had hoped he would go away, back to his parents’ villa elsewhere in the City of Gold, but it appeared that he had moved into the palace permanently.

“And will you do it yourself?” she asked, her words twisting. “I know, as the king’s new lap dog, you will do anything he asks of you for the mere promise of a treat.”

He gave her a tight smile. “No, why should I? Since I am fully capable of giving orders of my own. And why wait?” He gestured toward the two red-uniformed guards who’d accompanied him. They immediately went to the wall and began to remove the portraits. Mira clutched Cleo’s arm as if to prevent her from lurching forward. Fury rose within her like a tidal wave.

She glared at him. “How can you do this, Aron?”

“Lord Aron, Cleo. As kingsliege, and since we are no longer betrothed, it will show more respect if you begin to use my proper title.”

Of course. Kingsliege. The king had gone ahead with his promise to bestow the lofty-but, in Cleo’s opinion, meaningless-title on Aron. He was still a “lord,” only now it was a title Aron felt he’d earned, rather than inherited through his family line. Everyone of importance in the palace had been required to gather in the throne room for the ceremony yesterday. Now Aron wore his new status like a suit of armor, shiny protection against anything that might attempt to hurt him.

It sickened her. He acted as if he’d been born with Limerian blood running through his veins. Once, Cleo might have dismissed this as merely a necessary survival tactic against the enemy now in power. But Aron did everything asked of him with a smile on his face, as if he relished being one of the King of Blood’s trained dogs.

“He finds you an amusement, you know.” She couldn’t stop herself from speaking her thoughts. “Pray to the goddess that you make yourself invaluable to him before this amusement wears thin.”

“I could say the same for you, princess,” Aron said evenly.

“What are you going to do with the paintings, Lord Aron?” Mira asked with the barest edge of sarcasm detectable in her tone. “Hang them in your chambers?”

There was once a time when Mira had had warm feelings for the handsome lord, but no more. She too saw him for what he truly was. An opportunist who would sell his own mother’s soul to a demon from the darklands if it meant he might gain the king’s favor.

“They’ll be burned,” he said simply, and Cleo’s heart wrenched. He gave her a smirk. “On the king’s orders.”

Somehow, the horrible thought that her family’s portraits would be destroyed brought a coolness to her, a calm that held power. Her hatred now burned with ice, not fire.

“I’ll remember this, Aron.”

“Lord Aron.” As the guards finally yanked Emilia’s portrait down from the wall, Aron nodded at them. “Good. Take them outside and leave them by the stables for now. They may as well become coated with filth, just like that idiot friend of yours now is.”

“Idiot friend?” Cleo asked quietly. Cautiously.

“That he yet breathes is a constant surprise to me. But knee deep in horse dung is a fair punishment for-”

But she was already walking away down the long hall, pulling Mira with her.

“Cleo?” Mira asked, uncertain. “Where are we going?”

“I think I know where Nic is.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “Then we must move quickly!”

Ignoring both the shadowy guards and Aron, who now followed them, Cleo and Mira moved swiftly through the castle. She may be little more than a glorified prisoner within these walls, but this was Cleo’s home and she knew the labyrinthine hallways better than anyone. As a child, she and Emilia had played hide and seek with their nursemaids-although the nursemaids had never found much amusement in the impromptu games.

They emerged outside into the courtyard, a walled, open-air space in the center of the palace filled with herb gardens, apple and peach trees, and lilac bushes in full bloom that scented the warm evening air with their perfume. The moon was full and bright, lighting their way along the winding cobblestone path.

No one tried to stop Cleo as she pushed open the gate leading out of the courtyard, went down a long hallway, and exited the east side of the castle toward the stables, Mira following close behind. Beyond the stables was the rest of the walled city, home to many thousand Auranian citizens. Here she was as close to freedom as she’d been since King Gaius had destroyed her world and taken her father’s throne. She had no doubt that if she attempted to breach the outer palace walls she would be stopped and dragged back inside.

But escape was not her goal tonight.

As they neared the stables, the stench of manure hung heavy in the air. And there she saw him.

“Cleo. .” Mira whispered, then louder: “Cleo! You’re right-he’s here!”

Heart in throat, Cleo hurried her pace as the girls rushed toward Nic. A few other stablehands looked on with interest. Nic watched their approach with wide eyes, then dropped the two buckets he carried. They sloshed against the ground. However, before Cleo or Mira could get any closer, the guards closed in and grabbed each of the girls’ arms to stop them.

“Unhand me!” Cleo struggled against her captor. “Nic. . Nic! Are you all right?”

Nic nodded with one firm shake of his head. “I’m fine. You don’t know how glad I am to see you two.”

“Let me go!” Mira snarled, fighting against the guard who held her in place.

Aron had followed them leisurely and now he approached, his arms crossed over his chest, a lit cigarillo protruding from the fingers of one hand. “Well, seems that I have revealed a little secret, haven’t I? Doesn’t matter, I suppose. It won’t change anything.”

“You don’t think so?” Cleo retorted. “Now that I know where Nic is I’ll make sure he’s released from these lowly labors!”

“You confuse yourself with someone who still has great power here, princess.”

“And you confuse yourself with someone who has any.”

“Working knee deep in horse shit is his punishment. Although, if you ask me, he should be dead for what he did to Prince Magnus.”

The memory tore through her mind before she could try to stop it. Theon’s broken body, his eyes staring upward, unseeing. Magnus with blood on his face from where she’d clawed him as he tried to wrench her to her feet. Nic, throwing a rock to stop him, which met its mark. Cleo had taken a heavy sword and very nearly plunged it into the prince’s chest while he was disoriented, but Nic feared the ultimate repercussions of such an act and stopped her. He’d knocked Magnus out cold so he couldn’t follow them.

I’m so sorry, Theon. I’m so. . so sorry. I led you to your death, and then couldn’t avenge you.

Her eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She needed Theon’s memory, the recollection of his strength, his confident belief in her, to aid her now. Tears wouldn’t help. Commands wouldn’t help. Aron was right, she had no power here anymore. No influence.

However. .

She turned toward Aron-this time with a smile.

“Come on, Aron,” she almost purred. “You were once our friend-our good friend. Can’t you find that within yourself again? Not everything has changed, has it? Mira thought her brother was dead. Don’t keep them apart. Please.”

Aron might have expected rage from her but clearly didn’t know what to do with cordiality. He hesitated for a moment, nonplussed, before he finally nodded at the guard who held Mira. The guard released her and Mira ran directly into Nic’s arms.

“We couldn’t find you anywhere,” she said, choked. “I was so worried about you!”

“Oh, Mira.” Nic gripped his sister tightly, snorting softly into her long hair. “Honestly? I was worried about me too.”

She pulled back from him a little and scrunched her nose. “You stink!”

He laughed out loud at that and ran a hand through his messy and matted red hair. “Glad to see you too, dear sister.”

This time, the smile Cleo gave Aron was sincere. “Thank you.”

He watched the siblings with a sour look. “Remember this favor, Cleo. You owe me one.”

She fought to hold on to her pleasant expression. “Of course, Lord Aron.”

Aron smiled, pleased, at this.

It was good to know she could easily handle this fool when necessary.

• • •

The guards accompanied Cleo back to her chambers and closed the door behind her. She knew one would remain stationed outside until morning in case she even thought of escaping. There had been times she’d scaled the ivy outside her sister’s balcony to leave the castle, but in her own chambers, it was a sheer drop from her window to the ground thirty feet below.

The king might acknowledge her as a “guest of honor” publicly, but at this very moment she felt every bit a prisoner of war. She supposed she should consider herself lucky her own chambers had been returned to her. For days after the battle, they had been given to Lucia until other accommodations for the ailing Limerian princess had been found.

Seeing Nic and Mira reunited, though, had given Cleo a twinge of hope that things could change. She held tight to the knowledge that she’d been right, that Nic still lived. He could use a very long bath, but he was alive.

If she allowed herself to admit it, it did surprise her that Magnus had not demanded his head. Did he really think toiling in the stables was the best punishment?

“He’s still horrible,” she whispered. “But Nic still breathes. I must be grateful for that much.”

Her chambers were dark. Her attention slid over to the stone wall by her vanity table, to the very location where she’d hidden the amethyst ring. Her hands itched to take it out and put it on her finger. To feel the coolness of the gold against her skin, the weight of the stone. To have something tangible that might be able to help her. Something tied to her family. To history. To elementia itself.

She would return to her search for information tomorrow. There had to be something in the library that would tell her about the ring, help her learn how to properly use it. Emilia had always spent hours upon hours in the library, reading both for pleasure and for knowledge. And Cleo had always avoided such things. Until now. She had hope that somewhere in one of the thousands upon thousands of books that lined the library’s shelves lay the answers she sought.

She wrapped her arms around herself and moved to the window to look down on the moonlit courtyard far below. A warm breeze brushed against her skin.

It was then that she sensed the presence of someone else in her room.

Cleo spun around, searching the shadows. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

“Did you have a nice evening, your highness?” His deep voice slid across the room, wrapping itself around her and holding her prone with instant, remembered fear.

She ran for the door, but he caught her before she got there, grabbing hold of her arms and pressing her up against the wall.

“I’ll scream,” she warned him.

“Screaming would be the wrong move.” He pressed one hand against her mouth and with his other hand trapped both her wrists so she couldn’t move.

Jonas Agallon smelled like the forest itself, of evergreen needles and warm earth.

She attempted to drive her knee up between his legs, but he avoided this attack effortlessly.

“Come now, princess. It doesn’t have to be like this. I only came here for a chat. . unless you cause me problems.” The surface of his words was friendly, but the malevolence behind them was unmistakable. “I’m going to remove my hand now. If you speak in a voice louder than a whisper I promise you’ll regret it. Understand?”

She nodded once, willing herself to remain calm.

He pulled his hand away but otherwise didn’t loosen his hold on her.

“What do you want?” She kept her voice low and controlled. For now.

“I just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

She couldn’t help but laugh drily at this. “Really.”

Jonas’s face was in shadows, his eyes dark as he scanned the length of her. “Last time I saw you, you were cloaked and armed with a dagger.”

“Yes, and that was right before you alerted Prince Magnus to my presence in the crowd.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I did no such thing.”

“And I should believe you? You worked with him before. With the king himself! You kidnapped me, leaving me with no food or water for a week, waiting to hand me over to my enemy.”

“It was three days, princess. And you were given food and water. Anyway, my dealings with the King of Blood and his ilk came to an end when he deceived my people.”

“Anyone with half a brain could have seen he was deceptive from the very beginning.”

He glared at her. “Easy to say that now.”

She’d touched a nerve. Perhaps he did feel like a fool for helping King Gaius. “Let go of me.”

“I don’t trust you. You’ll try to scamper off and alert the guards.”

Fueled by her success earlier with manipulating Aron, she decided to try the same with Jonas. Anger or demands wouldn’t work, that much was certain. She looked up into his dark eyes and worked some pain into her own. “You’re hurting me.”

Jonas laughed, low and throaty. “Speaking of deceptive. . trust me, princess, I don’t underestimate you either.”

Her gaze frantically skimmed her familiar room, searching for anything that might help her. “What am I to think with you here? There was a time you wanted to kill me.”

“Believe me, if I were here to end your life, you’d already be dead. I wanted to see for myself how much you’ve been taken in by them now that you’re betrothed to the prince. I witnessed the announcement. Despite the rough beginning, it looks like you’ve been accepted into the king’s family with open arms. How nice for you.”

Nausea coursed through her gut that he’d think this; that anyone would think this. “You think I’d welcome the inclusion to such an evil family?”

“I don’t know.” He studied her carefully. “Maybe.”

He believed her allied with the vipers themselves. The thought was so foreign that she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Venom coated her next words. “I shouldn’t have to defend myself to someone like you. What do I care what you think?”

Jonas pressed her harder up against the wall, making her gasp. “I know you think I’m nothing more than a Paelsian savage.”

She refused to look away from him. “Are you denying it?”

“I’m no savage, your highness. I’m a rebel.” He said it as if he was proud of it. Like it should impress her.

“If that’s true, then it’s only a matter of time before your head finds its way onto a spike, just like those of your rebel friends.”

He flinched at the mention of the executions. “Perhaps. But at least I’m attempting to change things.”

“By sneaking into my chambers and trying to bully me? I think I have my share of bullies in this palace to deal with already. I’ll say it one more time: let go of me.”

Finally, he did as she asked and stepped back. He watched her warily, as if he expected she’d immediately flee to the door and call for the guard. Part of her was tempted to do just that.

Instead, she watched him back just as warily. She couldn’t deny that in looks alone, Jonas Agallon was very attractive. Black hair, dark eyes, deeply tanned skin from working outdoors like most Paelsians. A tall, muscular body with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Beneath the dark gray cloak he wore, his clothes were dusty, torn, and simple, but he held himself like no peasant she’d ever seen before.

There was an arrogance to this boy that was similar to that of Prince Magnus-despite their vastly different upbringings. Jonas’s eyes weren’t as cold and serpentine as the prince’s, but they were still sharp and dangerous. They looked as if they could pierce right through her and pin her to the wall as easily as he’d done with his body.

There was a time not so long ago that he’d looked at her as if she was a hateful, spoiled creature who needed to die. Now there was a great deal of suspicion in his gaze, but also an edge of interest, as if he was curious about her plans now that she was betrothed to the son of her greatest enemy.

“Are you aligned with King Gaius?” Jonas asked again, his words harsh.

He was the rudest person she’d ever met. Ruder, possibly, than Prince Magnus himself. “How dare you enter my private chambers and demand answers like this? I’ll tell you nothing.”

His hands fisted at his sides and his glare intensified. “Princess, you could make this easier for me.”

“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. Because you’ve always been such a good friend to me.”

Her sardonic tone coaxed the barest edge of a smile to his lips. “I could be a good friend.”

She went completely silent for a moment. “How?”

“That depends entirely on you, your highness.”

Jonas used the title as an insult, with no respect implied whatsoever, just as he had when he’d taken her captive in Paelsia. This much had not changed. “Talk quickly, or soon you’ll be trapped in the palace with no chance for escape. The guards will begin patrolling the courtyard very soon now that night has fallen.”

Jonas swept his gaze through the small room, coming to rest on the canopied bed. “Then I would have to stay here for the night, wouldn’t I? Would you help to hide me away under your covers?”

She ignored the heat that touched her cheeks at the suggestion. “Continue speaking nonsense and your time continues to drain away. Talk. Now.”

“Always issuing orders. Is that what a princess who’s lost her kingdom still does-or the future bride of Prince Magnus? Does it make you feel powerful to boss me around?”

“Enough of this.” She turned toward the door and opened her mouth as if to shout.

Jonas was behind her in an instant, his hand coming over her mouth, his arm across her chest to pull her tightly back against his body. “Summon the guards and I’ll tell them I’m your secret lover. What would Prince Magnus think about that? Would he be jealous?”

She bit his hand hard enough to taste blood. He pulled away from her, his eyes wide with pain even as a grin curled up the corner of his mouth.

Cleo wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You need to know one thing. I don’t care what Prince Magnus thinks, nor will I ever. I hate him and I hate his father. No matter what happens to me, that much will never change.”

“You want to destroy them.”

It wasn’t a question. Cleo just stared at him, unblinking. Unspeaking. Admitting anything at all to this boy felt far too dangerous.

But he didn’t seem to need any confirmation. He nodded once. “I told you that day in the crowd to be ready. It’s time, princess. I need your help.”

The thought was absurd. “You need my help?”

“The rebels need information about the Damoras. Their plans, their schemes. And this road-the one the king announced during his speech. Did you know he’s butchering entire villages and enslaving Paelsians to help him build it as quickly as possible? It means something to him, this road. Something important. Something beyond what anyone else believes it to mean.”

Butchering villages? She felt the blood drain from her face. “What?”

“That’s what I want you to find out. I want you to be my spy.”

For a moment, she couldn’t seem to form words. “What you’re asking could get me killed.”

“The very act of breathing could get you killed. Same for anyone else. You might be trapped here, but you’ve been given great privilege. The king underestimates how deep your hatred for him flows. He doesn’t know what you’re capable of.”

Cleo did fully mean to destroy the king and everyone who had aligned with him in order to reclaim her throne. She would not stand by and see her people-or any people from any land, for that matter-abused and enslaved by this man.

But could she be a spy for Jonas? Could she net him the information he was looking for to help the rebel cause?

Perhaps she could.

She would have to give this more thought. And she could not think with the rebel here in her presence.

“I need to consider my options,” she said quietly. Not that she had many to consider.

Jonas cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Princess, you need to-”

“I need to do nothing, not when it’s something that involves you. You thought to barge into my chambers, wait for me in the dark, and expect me to be drooling at the very idea of working together to defeat the king? You may underestimate me, but you vastly overestimate yourself.” She didn’t want to say no to him, but she couldn’t say yes, either. Not yet. “I don’t trust you. I will never trust you, Jonas Agallon.”

His mouth dropped open. “Are you denying me?”

His reaction was nearly comical. “I will assume this is not something you normally deal with when you ask a favor from a girl.”

He frowned. “Actually. . it’s not.”

She heard a rustle outside her door. Any moment it could swing inward and a guard might enter and capture Jonas. “You must leave.”

Her breath caught as he grasped her chin and drew her closer. “You will help me when you realize it’s the only way you will ever have a chance to be queen.”

“I will be queen, no matter what I must do to achieve it. I am betrothed to a prince, remember? One who will one day take the throne.”

He actually laughed at this, a sound that held no humor. “You can’t honestly believe King Gaius will ever let that happen. Open your eyes, princess. Your wedding is only another distraction to try to keep his new citizens satisfied and looking in directions other than where the king’s true greed lies; and so no one realizes how thin his army is now spread policing all of Mytica. Beyond that, you’re a liability to the crown, to the king’s power and the prince’s claim to the throne. You have great value to them, perhaps, but it will be short-lived, as you too will be if you choose to remain here.”

She’d already thought of this herself, but it was shocking to hear it put into cold, hard words. Once she’d become worthless to the king as a figurehead to the Auranian people, there was no doubt in her mind that he’d quietly have her killed and disposed of. She remained silent.

“I’ll be in touch again, soon, your highness, once you’ve had more time to consider what I’ve said.”

Jonas released her and turned to her window. The warmth of his touch lingered for the briefest of moments as she watched him slide out the window and scale the wall as if he were a cliff-dwelling creature like those rumored to live in the Forbidden Mountains. He effortlessly dropped the last ten feet to the ground and within moments disappeared into the shadows.