“You failed me?” the king roared.
“We were ambushed. My guards were killed. I had to kill the guard accompanying the princess in order to escape with my life.”
The king’s face reddened with fury and he stormed toward Magnus, raising his hand to strike him. Before he made contact, Magnus caught his wrist.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “If you ever dare to hit me again, I’ll kill you too.”
“I asked you to do one simple thing, and you failed me.”
“And I barely returned home alive. Yes, I failed to bring you King Corvin’s daughter. But it’s over. You’ll just have to find another way to get what you want. Perhaps your own daughter will be all the assistance you need.” His face tensed. “Even though she’s not your daughter by blood.”
The king’s eyes widened a fraction—the only sign of any shock over Magnus’s words. “How did you learn of this?”
“Your mistress told me before Lucia turned her to ash. Then I confirmed it with Mother.” His lips twisted. “What do you have to say about that?”
King Gaius stayed locked in Magnus’s grip for another moment before he yanked his arm away. “I was going to tell you when I returned.”
“You’ll forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”
“Believe what you must, Magnus. What Sabina and your mother told you is true. It changes nothing.” Finally his rage lessened and he nodded slowly. “But I trust in fate. We’ll have to go into this war without any guarantees.”
No apologies for a lifetime of lies, but Magnus hadn’t expected any. And so he would offer no apologies for his failure in Paelsia. “Were there guarantees even with Princess Cleiona in our grasp?”
“No. Only speculation.” He studied his son’s face. “You’ve learned from this failure and from recent truths offered from the lips of deceitful women. It’s made you stronger.” He nodded again and a grin stretched across his face. “All is well. Destiny smiles on us, Magnus. Wait and see. Auranos is ours.”
Magnus kept his expression stony and unamused. “I feel the sudden need to crush others beneath my feet.”
This only made the king’s smile widen. “Got a taste for blood, did you? For the feel of a sword piercing flesh?”
“Maybe I did.”
“Excellent. You’ll get to experience a great deal more of it very soon, I promise.”
? ? ?
The next day when his father summoned him, Magnus didn’t delay in going to his side, leaving in the middle of his swordsmanship lesson. Andreas and the other boys watched him leave, attempting to guard their distaste.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Magnus said, throwing down the sword he’d used to break two of the boy’s arms in the last week. They should be lucky they didn’t practice with sharpened steel or he would have taken the entire limb. “I have royal business to attend to.”
Everything seemed so much simpler with his new outlook. He was the son of the King of Blood. And he would live up to that title in any way he could.
His father waited at the entrance to the eastern tower, where prisoners of special interest to the king were kept.
“Come with me,” the king said before leading Magnus up the narrow spiral staircase. The black stone walls higher up were coated with frost. There were no fireplaces in the towers to bring any warmth to them.
Magnus wasn’t sure what to expect when they reached the top. Perhaps a prisoner about to lose their head or their hands. He might be the one allowed to pass final judgment on a murderer or pickpocket. But when he saw who the prisoner was, his steps faltered.
Amia was chained in the small stone room, her arms raised above her head. Two guards stood by obediently. The girl’s face was bloody. Her gaze moved to him and widened before she bit her bottom lip and stared down at the floor.
“This,” the king said, “is one of our kitchen maids. She was caught eavesdropping outside my meeting room. You know how I feel about spies.”
“I’m not a spy,” she whispered.
The king strode across the room. He grasped hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. “Anyone who listens to conversations while hidden is a spy. The only question is, for whom do you spy, Amia?”
Bile rose in Magnus’s throat. The girl spied for him. She’d been an asset ever since he’d first taken notice of her. She’d told him many interesting pieces of information.
When she didn’t reply, the king backhanded her. Blood bubbled from her mouth as she sobbed.
Magnus’s heart thundered in his chest. “Seems as if she doesn’t want to say.”
“Perhaps she’s protecting someone. Or perhaps she’s simply stupid. The question is, and why I brought you up here, what do you think I should do with such a problem? Spies are usually tortured for information. While she hasn’t been helpful yet, a few hours on the rack might loosen young Amia’s tongue.”