Thievery was considered to be as evil as murder in Limeros, with the harshest of penalties.
His throat closed and tears threatened to fall, but he forced them back. He was the big brother, and he needed to be strong. In Auranos, he’d met the royal Bellos family, who had been so kind and warm and welcoming—three qualities that the Damoras didn’t share. The memory of their daughter, Princess Cleiona, the same age as Lucia, with bright golden hair that matched the warm Auranian sun, gave him hope since their return to frozen, gloomy Limeros that his future might be just as bright.
But once they’d returned, nothing had changed. He hated it here. And he hated his father.
He thought that if he journeyed there and asked politely, that the Bellos family might accept him into their family.
“Just trust me, Sister,” he told Lucia. “Pack what you value and let’s go.”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave and neither can you. I’m going to tell Father!”
“No.” He grasped her wrist, anger flaring up like fire within him. “You can’t tell him. Please, promise me you won’t say anything!”
She let out a shaky little sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Very well. I promise.”
“I’ll come back for you. Someday. All right?”
She nodded, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll miss you so much.”
Magnus kissed her forehead and stood up on shaky legs. Determination swelled in his chest as he took his small satchel filled with a change of clothing and several gold coins in a cloth pouch that he’d stolen from his father, sneaked past their nursemaid, who dozed in a chair just outside the door to their activity room, and moved down the hall with purpose. Not a single guard stationed throughout the palace asked him any questions about his destination as he passed by them. For all they knew, he was headed to the chapel to pray to the goddess.
He pulled the hood up on his black canvas cloak. He’d taken it from a servant’s son as a disguise, but he knew the thin fabric would do little to keep him warm. He pulled it closer and braced himself against the cold night as he left the palace. There was a small village two miles’ journey from the palace that would be his first destination. There he’d use the coins he’d stolen to bribe an adult to help him get passage aboard a ship to Auranos. He would tell no one who he was.
A storm brewed in the night skies, thick clouds blocking the moon and all stars. Lit only by torches set into the roadway, the two miles had felt like a hundred miles, but finally he made it to the village. Shivering, he pushed open the door to a meeting house, busy with patrons eating dinner and complaining about the weather.
“Look at this.” One man chewing some gristly meat with his mouth open nodded toward him. “Some entertainment has arrived.”
“I don’t know,” his friend sneered toward Magnus. “Doesn’t look all that entertaining to me. Tell me, child. Where’s your mama on a bitterly cold night like tonight? Might she like to help warm me up?”
They both laughed loudly at this, bits of meat flying from the first man’s mouth.
Magnus narrowed his eyes. “How dare you speak to me like that!”
“Oh, well, forgive me, little lord.” They continued laughing.
Magnus bit his bottom lip. He didn’t want to let on that he was the prince. He was simply a boy looking for a means of travel to a better place.
“I have coin,” he said. “I want to go to Auranos.”
“Do I look like a ship to you?” the second man said. “Or perhaps a horse with a wagon behind me? Begone, little one.”
“Wait,” the first man said, his gaze honing in on Magnus’s face, partially shadowed by the hood of his cloak. “You say you have coin?”
“I . . .” Magnus hesitated then, sensing danger.
Stupid, he chastised himself. It was so stupid to announce such a thing. “Never mind.” He turned away, but the man gripped his wrist, drawing him closer.
“Give it here,” the man sneered. “Could use some coin, myself. Spent my last one on this meal.”
Without any effort at all, the man yanked Magnus’s satchel away from him with enough force to rattle his bones. He dug around inside until he found the small pouch of coins. He opened the drawstrings and looked inside, his brows rising. “Very nice. Did you steal this? Is there more where this came from? Telle me where you got this, child.”
Before he looked up, Magnus turned and fled the meeting house, leaving his satchel behind, breathing so rapidly in his panic to escape that he was certain his insides would freeze.