“Angry? You think I was—”
“But to come here,” he interrupted her. “To, what? Attempt an alliance with Amara?”
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “Since she’s the only one with any power here, would you really blame me?”
“What should I do with them, Cleo?” Amara asked. “Do you want me to consider sparing Magnus’s life?”
“I’ll have to give it some thought,” Cleo said.
Magnus narrowed his eyes at her. “Some thought? The princess needs to give some thought to whether or not I die? Need I remind you that I have saved your life far too many times to count?”
“This is not a scale on which we must balance such things. This is war. And in war, we must do what is necessary to survive.”
He glared at her, then shifted his gaze to Amara. “Then perhaps I should arrange an alliance with you for myself.”
Amara scoffed. “Really? What kind of an alliance?”
“I remember the night we spent together very well. You are . . . an extraordinary woman, one I would very much like in my bed again.”
From the corner of his eye, Magnus could clearly see Cleo fidget uncomfortably.
“Really?” Amara twisted a finger through her hair. “And you don’t mind that I’ve been with other men since we were together? Including your own father?”
“I prefer a woman with experience. So many others are so . . . clumsy and awkward in their innocence.” He shifted his gaze to Cleo to see if his words, utterly untrue to his actual feelings on the subject, had any effect on her. “Don’t you think, princess?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Cleo agreed, though there was poison in her tone. “You should seek out only the most experienced women. Perhaps you could learn a great deal from them.”
Amara kept a thin smile steady on her face. “I think such invitations are well behind us, Magnus, but I certainly appreciate the generous offer. What I’m more interested in at this very moment is acquiring the air Kindred. I want it.”
“I’m sure you do,” the king said. “As you’ve wanted everything I’ve had.”
“Not everything. For example, I don’t want you as a husband anymore. Will you tell me where it is?”
“No,” he replied.
“I have no patience for this.” Amara gestured to the guards. “Take the two of them to the pit.”
“Yes, empress.”
The two girls turned toward the door.
“Princess . . .” Magnus said, hating the sliver of weakness in his voice. Cleo’s shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice.
She glared at him over her shoulder. “I thought I told you to call me Cleiona.”
Magnus stared after them as Cleo and Amara left without another word.
Cleiona . . . she wanted him to call her Cleiona.
The name of a goddess. Her full, proper name, not a shortened version of it. The name he’d originally chosen to call her to show that he wanted her, that he loved her.
That she loved him.
Could it be that there was still hope that she hadn’t abandoned him to this fate? That she had forgiven him his many mistakes?
The guards unshackled Magnus and the king and began pulling them from the dungeon and into the light. They entered a building, then moved down an echoing corridor with a open ceiling.
A pretty girl with short, dark hair and a shapely body leaned against the wall up ahead.
“Greetings,” she said to the guards. “I see that you have the prisoners firmly in hand. Well done.”
“Indeed, Nerissa. You look lovely today.”
“You think so?” She smiled seductively, and the guards smiled back at her.
“Fitting in well here, I see,” Magnus said to her coldly.
“Very well, thank you.” Nerissa began walking next to them, and she slid her hand down the sleeve of the guard’s uniform. “I need to ask you for a favor, my sweet.”
Magnus’s guard slowed down, while his father’s guards continued down the hall.
The guard looked at her hungrily. “Oh?”
She whispered something in his ear that actually made him giggle.
“That is a favor I’m most happy to oblige, my lovely. Tell me when and where.”
The king and his guards disappeared around the corner up ahead.
“Soon. Perhaps just a kiss for now to make you remember me.”
“As if I could forget.”
Nerissa pulled the guard in and brushed her lips against his. Magnus saw her reach for something in the folds of her dress. She met Magnus’s eyes just as she thrust her dagger into the guard’s gut. The guard immediately let go of Magnus, clutching his stomach.
“What are you—?” he gasped.
She jabbed him, quick and deep, several more times before he fell to the floor in a bloody, twitching heap.
Magnus stared at the girl in utter shock at what he’d witnessed.
Nerissa gestured to someone behind Magnus. “Quickly. Cut the prince’s bindings.”
That someone sliced through the ropes that tied his wrists, and Magnus turned. A familiar, angry face topped with a shock of red hair stared back at him.
“Nic,” he managed.
Nic shook his head. “It goes against my very nature to save your arse, but here we are.”