“I admire your candor as much as your curiosity, princess. But I’m afraid my business here is between me and the emperor. I’m sure you understand.”
“Come now. I’m sure you can give me just a little hint.”
The cordial smile remained fixed on the king’s lips. “Did you enjoy your visit to my kingdom, princess?”
Amara hesitated before conceding a reply to the abrupt shift in subject. “Very much so.”
“I was sorry to hear that you’d set sail before I had a chance to bid you farewell.”
“Yes, and I was likewise so unfortunate to miss the fleet of guards you’d sent to the villa to escort my brother and me back to your palace. My apologies for the rude departure, but it was time to go. I wouldn’t have wanted to outstay my welcome in your kingdom.”
On the surface, this was just a polite conversation between two royals, but Felix could have sworn he heard something darker, something entirely other than friendly, in their tone.
“What a pity,” the king said. “I sent the guards because I’d managed to arrange excellent new accommodations for you, right there at the palace.”
“How incredibly thoughtful.”
The king watched her, his smile growing wider and his dark eyes glittering with interest. “You disappoint me, princess. The famous Kraeshian bluntness is usually not so difficult to elicit. Are we really going to play this game?”
“I only indulge in games when I know I’m going to win.”
“And your brother, Prince Ashur? Does he play games as well as you do?”
“Not nearly as well, I’m afraid.”
“Has he also left Mytica and returned home?”
Felix studied Amara’s face, but found her expression impossible to read.
“Not yet,” she replied simply.
The king went silent for a long moment as the carriage proceeded on toward the palace. “Perhaps one day you’ll wish to speak your true thoughts to me rather than hold them back.”
“I’m not sure you’d enjoy that day very much, King Gaius.”
“Don’t be so certain.”
Felix felt as if he and Milo had become completely invisible, leaving only the two royals in the carriage to face off against each other.
“How is Prince Magnus?” Amara asked.
“Very well.”
“Really. You’ve seen him recently?”
The king narrowed his gaze. “My son is traveling at the moment, but we keep in very close touch. I’ve just received a message from him, informing me that he’s currently in Limeros.”
“Oh, yes, I already knew that.” She sighed. “Your darling little heir, so determined to do things his way, isn’t he? So stubborn.”
“I suppose stubbornness is another trait we share as father and son.”
“Yes. And he’s quite taken with his wife, isn’t he? When I last saw them in Limeros, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Love’s like that. It’s one of the few things in life that are worth killing for, wouldn’t you say? He’d likely do absolutely anything for her, wouldn’t he? How romantic, considering she remains the greatest threat to your throne.”
The king’s expression was resolute and impassive, but his face had turned a shade redder.
“Apologies.” Princess Amara frowned. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“Not at all,” the king replied, and Felix watched him shift in his seat. “But tell me, while on your . . . impromptu trip to Limeros where you allegedly saw my son and his wife—”
“Not allegedly. I did see them . . . at the Temple of Valoria, in fact.”
“Did you also happen to see my daughter, Lucia?”
“I can’t say that I did. Why? Has she also fled her royal nest? Goodness, your grace, it seems that both of your children have abandoned you at such a delicate time in your rule. That must be rather disappointing.”
Felix and Milo shared a confused look. What, exactly, were they witnessing here?
The king chuckled, surprising his small audience. “Princess, you are a very special young woman indeed. I promise never to underestimate you again.”
“That would be wise,” she said, then glanced ahead. “Oh, look. We’ve nearly arrived at the Emerald Spear. This was the place I missed most while I was away.”
Felix turned in his seat to see the massive green palace rising high up into the sky.
“King Gaius . . . Felix, Milo . . .” Amara smiled brightly. “Welcome to my home.”
CHAPTER 11
CLEO
LIMEROS
Yes, very good, princess,” Lord Kurtis said. “Focus all your energy on the very center of the target.”
Cleo took her time carefully aiming her arrow, standing twenty paces from the target. It was cold, but the skies were clear and there was no snow to distract her today.
“When you’re ready, release the arrow.”
She let the arrow fly, feeling more confident than she had in any previous lesson.
But the arrow made it only halfway to its destination before taking a nosedive straight into the frozen ground.
This particular failure had become very familiar to her over the last week.
The sport of archery had seemed so easy from the sidelines, where she’d watched her sister compete. Now, looking down at her fingers, blistered and bleeding from daily practices, she realized how wrong her assumption had been. Every day it was the same: drawing back the bowstring, aiming, letting the arrow free. Over and over. And then failing each time, again and again.
She was further embarrassed by the fact that there were several guards posted near the archery field to witness her lack of progress, including Enzo, the friendly guard she made sure to say good morning to every day.
“Very good,” Kurtis said, trying to cheer her up. “You’re getting much better.”
She tried not to laugh. “You lie.”
“Not at all. You don’t see your progress, but I do. Your aim has become excellent and your strength is improving with each session. To master a skill like this takes extreme quantities of both patience and time.”
Why must everything important take so much patience and time when she had none of either left?
When she’d first met Lysandra Barbas, Cleo had been impressed by the rebel girl who had been so easily able to keep up with boys like Jonas, who could wield a bow and arrow as if she’d been born with them already in her grip. Although she’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to the belligerent Lysandra herself, Cleo had come to admire her deeply.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she said, putting down her bow and tucking her hands into the folds of her pale blue, fur-lined cloak.
“Very well.” Kurtis ordered a guard to pick up their equipment and they began to walk slowly toward the entrance to the palace. “Your grace, may I speak frankly with you?”
“About?”
“Prince Magnus.”
She glanced at him with surprise. “What about him?”
He hesitated. “Forgive me if I’ve misinterpreted, but I feel that you and I have become friends.”
“You haven’t misinterpreted at all.” Cleo could use as many friends as she could get. “Please, feel free to say whatever’s on your mind.”