All she knew for sure was that, by deciding to accompany him here to the palace rather than going into exile with Nic, she had put her immediate future in the prince’s hands. But that was a small price to pay to ensure she’d live to see the distant future.
“If you’re afraid that I want to discuss what happened at Lady Sophia’s—”
“Afraid?” he interjected. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“—then allow me to put your mind at ease.” She’d rehearsed this speech over and over in her mind since she’d left her chambers. “Emotions were running high that night and our thoughts were cloudy. Anything that either of us may have said should not be taken seriously.”
He studied her for a long moment in silence, his brow drawn together. “I must admit,” he said finally, “the details of what happened before we arrived at the temple are rather hazy for me. But what I can say is this: In the harsh light of day, confusing events seem much clearer, don’t they? Moments of regrettable foolishness that seem like they’ll carry grave consequences become entirely irrelevant.”
“My thoughts exactly.” The look of relief in his eyes should have felt freeing for her, but instead she felt a heavy weight bearing down on her chest.
Stop, Cleo, she chastised herself. You hate him and you always will. Hold on to that hate and let it make you stronger. You are his pawn in his battle against his father. That is all.
Even if Magnus had defied the king to save her, he was still his father’s heir. That meant that she remained his enemy, and that he might choose to dispose of her at any moment if it served his purpose. This had never felt more possible, now that he’d shown his true face while dealing with a minor inconvenience like Kurtis.
She swore she wouldn’t let her guard down around him again, as she had that fateful night.
“Yes, well, I’m very glad we could have this private talk,” said Magnus, moving toward the doors leading back into the palace. “Now, if we’re finished . . . ?”
“Actually, that wasn’t the primary reason I wanted to speak with you.” She straightened her shoulders and adjusted her own invisible mask. “I need you to send for my attendant, Nerissa Florens.”
He regarded her for a moment in silence. “Do you?”
“Yes.” She raised her chin higher. “And any answer besides ‘yes’ is unacceptable. As . . . delightful as the attendants are here in Limeros, I’ve grown accustomed to Nerissa and find her grooming and domestic skills to be incomparable.”
“Limerian attendants are delightful, are they?” Magnus reached toward Cleo. She froze, and he hesitated before taking a long lock of tangled, half-braided hair in hand. “Did you ask your handmaiden to transform your hair into a bird’s nest today?”
He was standing far too close to her now. Close enough that she knew from his scent that he’d been out riding today. She picked up the familiar aromas of worn leather and warm sandalwood.
She stepped back from him, knowing she would think much clearer with some space between them. Her hair slipped from his fingers. “You smell like a horse.”
“I suppose there are worse things to smell like.” He raised a brow before narrowing his gaze. “Very well, I’ll send for Nerissa if you feel she’s so valuable.”
Cleo regarded him with surprise. “Just like that? No argument?”
“Would you prefer I argue?”
“No, but I . . .” When one has gotten what they want, one should stop speaking. Cleo’s father used to say that to her whenever she’d continue to make her case for something he’d already relented to. “Thank you,” she said now, as sweetly as she could.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I must wash the scent of horses from myself. Wouldn’t want to offend anyone else with my stench.” Again, he turned toward the door.
Stop being a weak little fool, she told herself. “I’m not finished.”
His shoulders tensed. “Oh?”
Her teeth had begun to chatter from the cold, but she refused to go back inside yet. “The message you sent to your father. What did it say? You didn’t tell me.”
He blinked. “Should I have?”
“It concerns me as well, doesn’t it? I’m the one whom you helped escape execution. So, yes, you should have told me. What are his plans? Will he come here? Are we safe?”
He leaned against the balcony doors and crossed his arms. “We, princess, are mostly certainly not safe. I told my father that I’d learned you had specific information on Lucia’s whereabouts. I wrote that Cronus was so steadfastly loyal to the king’s commands that he refused to delay your execution until after I could get this information out of you. So I took matters into my own hands.”
Cleo exhaled the breath she was holding during this entire speech. “And has he replied?”
A shallow nod. “I received a new message this morning. Apparently he’s traveling abroad, and he looks forward to seeing me again upon his return.”
“That’s it? So he believes you?”
“I wouldn’t say that. His reply could mean anything—or nothing. After all, he knows that messages sent by raven aren’t exactly guaranteed to stay private. But I plan to stick to the story I’ve told until my last breath. If I can convince him that I only acted out of love for my sister, he may be lenient with me.”
“And with me?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Cleo hadn’t expected him to make any promises to keep her safe and alive, so she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. His silence was just more proof that the boy she’d seen intimidating and humiliating Kurtis was the real Magnus.
“Now, let me ask you a question, princess,” Magnus said, locking gazes with her. He drew so close to her that they were nearly touching and she moved backward until her spine was pressed up against the balcony railing.
“What?” She tried to inject the single word with as much defiance as possible.
“Have you managed to send word to Jonas Agallon and his trusty rebels informing him of your current whereabouts? Perhaps he can chase after Amara and bring you back the water Kindred.”
The name Jonas Agallon was a sharp slap back to cold reality.
Cleo pressed her hands against Magnus’s chest and pushed. “Step away from me,” she hissed.
“Did I strike a nerve? Apologies, but some subjects need to be addressed—even if they prove unpleasant to you.”
“I’ve already told you that I don’t and have never had anything to do with Jonas Agallon and his followers.” The belief that she’d colluded with rebels was what had led to her imprisonment and the king’s command for her immediate execution.
But it was the truth of course—she had conspired with him. But she’d never admit that out loud. Especially not to Magnus.
“Well, regardless, might I suggest Jonas as an archery tutor instead of Kurtis? Kurtis is skilled in the sport, I suppose, but Jonas—now there’s someone who’s killed Auranians and Limerians alike with his arrows, while Kurtis has only aimed at painted targets.”
“Kurtis will do nicely, but thank you for your opinion.” She shoved past him, then glanced over her shoulder as she left the balcony. “Good day, Magnus.”