“And yet, here he is,” Magnus said, eyeing him with distaste. “In the flesh. And now what are we to do with him? Put him up here at the palace? Feed and clothe him? All so he can sit there and look pretty and relate orders from the Sanctuary?”
Alexius gave the insolent prince a tight smile. “I can certainly do more to earn my keep. Melenia has suggested that I become Lucia’s elementia tutor. I’m certain that I’m much more knowledgeable than any of her other tutors.”
“This was Melenia’s idea?” The king’s skeptical expression remained fixed.
This could all go very wrong. The king was unpredictable. He seemed furious, so disappointed in Melenia for ignoring him for so long that he might have Alexius thrown in the dungeon to keep him from Lucia’s side.
He could certainly try, but he wouldn’t like the consequences.
There was only one outcome to this story, and it had been scored into his flesh with Melenia’s magic.
“It’s an excellent plan.” Lucia nodded enthusiastically. “Alexius would make a wonderful tutor.”
“I don’t like this,” Magnus said. “Any of it.”
“What do you like? Ever?” Lucia’s eyes flashed. “Can’t you, just once in your life, try to think beyond what you like? What you want?”
He flinched as if she’d struck him. Then coldness spread across his features. “Apologies, sister. I’m only trying to look out for you.”
“Don’t bother,” she replied.
Oh, yes. They certainly had a complicated relationship.
The king assessed each of them in turn, his gaze finally falling upon Alexius’s swirl of magic once again. “We will talk, you and I. I want more information about Melenia. About all of this.”
“Of course, your majesty.”
“But can he stay?” Lucia asked, her voice filled with hope.
There was a long stretch of silence in which the king scrutinized Alexius even more closely. “Yes. And I agree wholeheartedly with Melenia’s plan. Alexius will make an excellent tutor. If I’m not mistaken, I think he and I have the same goals for your magic.”
The king believed that he and the Watchers were collectively after the Kindred, and that he would be the one to possess and control their magic, making him a god.
If only he knew the truth.
“We do indeed have the same goals, your majesty,” Alexius said.
The king nodded. “Then go. You will begin your lessons first thing tomorrow once Lucia has a chance to rest. Welcome to my kingdom, Alexius.”
CHAPTER 17
MAGNUS
AURANOS
The Beast.
The name of the tavern was humorous to start with, but after Magnus had finished his second bottle of wine, he found it downright hilarious.
“Another bottle,” he barked. “Now.”
The server placed a third bottle of Paelsian wine in front of him.
“Silas Agallon Vineyards,” Magnus read aloud from the etching on the green glass bottle.
He was drinking wine made by Jonas Agallon’s family.
Even more hilarity.
Despite his distaste for the kingdom itself, Magnus had quickly come to prefer Paelsian wine. Still, the place was a dry wasteland at best. And at worst, it was the site of bad memories and poor choices, of humiliation, defeat, and regret.
He drank straight from the bottle now, ignoring his goblet. How stupid that his father had forbidden such pleasures in Limeros all those years, citing religious reasons. Valoria had taught that to keep a clear mind was to keep a pure heart, and her people had obeyed. Magnus had always subscribed to this credo, believing that he truly preferred a clear mind to this . . . this . . .
Yes. This was better.
Drunk was much better than sober.
He cast a dark glance around the shadowy tavern. What few patrons remaining at this late hour had moved to tables in the back. The only people near Magnus were a couple of his guards.
He’d told them to leave him alone, but they’d ignored him. They were there “for his protection.”
Impudent bastards.
He raised the bottle. “To my sister and her shiny new tutor,” he said, tipping the wine toward the server before taking a long drink. “And to my father. Family—so important. So valuable. May they all rot together in the darklands one day.”
His own words amused him deeply, as did the server’s horrified response to his toast.
Magnus was halfway through the third bottle when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.
“Your highness,” Cronus said. “It’s time to leave.”
Magnus flicked the guard’s hand away. “But I’m not nearly finished.”
“It wouldn’t please the king to see you like this.”
“Oh, no! The king wouldn’t be pleased. But I absolutely, positively want to please the king at all times. Don’t I?” He took another swig.
“You’ve had enough to drink.”
“Did you wake up this morning and suddenly decide to become my wet nurse, Cronus? Apologies, but I have no desire to suckle at your nipple tonight.”
“I could carry you back to the palace, but I’d prefer to give you the chance to walk.”
The prince responded to the guard’s rudeness with only a wry look. If anyone else spoke to him with such disrespect, Magnus would wish them dead. But having been the king’s most loyal and trusted guard for too many years to count, Cronus had gotten used to speaking his mind when necessary without fear of repercussion. He’d established his place in any palace the Damoras should ever occupy. And one day he would be loyal and obedient to Magnus’s every command.