The snake dancer stepped down from the stage and into the tavern crowd, from which she pulled a young, dark-haired man. Magnus froze. He craned his neck, trying to see around the heads of other patrons. The dancer threw her arms around the young man, twirling around in her visitor’s embrace until he faced in Magnus’s direction.
Shocked and open-mouthed, Magnus stared at the sight before him.
It was Jonas Agallon. Here, in the very same tavern as Magnus.
“What are the odds?” spoke a familiar voice next to him, articulating his very thoughts.
A wave of displeasure washed over Magnus even before he turned to discover what he already knew: that red-headed Nicolo Cassian now stood directly beside him. “You.”
Nic poked him in the shoulder, letting out a bark of a laugh as a splash of ale spilled over the edge of his large tankard. “It seems as though fate is finally kicking you in the arse, don’t you think, your highness? And I’m more than happy to bear witness to it.”
“Your visit to Kraeshia did nothing to diminish your charm, I see,” Magnus said, dismayed that he drunkenly slurred his words every bit as much as Nic did.
Nic smiled, but his unfocused eyes held no humor at all. “Prince Magnus Damora, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine.”
Annoyed at the use of his name in a public venue, Magnus turned, expecting to see some lowly rebel or another. But instead he was met with a face he saw only in his nightmares.
“Theon Ranus,” he managed. The pleasant, tingling warmth of the wine he’d consumed disappeared in an instant, leaving him utterly, devastatingly cold as he faced this apparition.
“You’re mistaken,” said the young man, a dead ringer for the first person Magnus ever killed. With cold eyes filled with nothing but single-minded hatred, he pulled out a knife and held it to Magnus’s throat. “I’m his brother, you son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER 13
CLEO
PAELSIA
“Where are you going, princess?”
The words halted her at the main door of the Hawk and Spear Inn. Cleo looked over her shoulder to see Enzo standing in the shadows behind her.
“I’m going to the tavern at the end of the road,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“It’s late.”
“And . . . ?”
Enzo straightened his shoulders. “I think it’s best that you stay here, where it’s safe, princess.”
“I appreciate your opinion, but I disagree. Magnus is there, and I’m surprised and rather dismayed that you didn’t go with him. What if he’s recognized?”
“The prince made it very clear to me that my sole duty is to ensure your safety, princess.”
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to wink away her surprise at this interesting revelation. “Really. Well, that makes things much simpler. You will come with me to fetch the prince and ensure that neither of us are put in harm’s way.”
She allowed him no time to argue as she turned and exited the inn, leaving the door open behind her for Enzo to follow and pulling up the hood of her cloak to cover her hair and shield her face.
Enzo trailed close behind her without further argument as she eyed the people on the street, the carriages moving past, the sound of horse hooves clopping against the gravel road. She followed the sound of drunken laughter and music toward the tavern that surely had to be Magnus’s destination. Above the large wooden doors was a bronze sculpture of a bunch of grapes on a vine.
She read the sign. “The Purple Vine. How appropriate a name for a tavern in Paelsia. And how deeply uninspired.”
The prince was so drawn to the taste of wine that he didn’t care what would happen if anyone recognized his royal face. He loved to drink so much that he was willing to risk getting killed in the midst of a stormy brew of Paelsians. And what a truly stupid way to die that would be, she thought.
“I’ve heard of this place,” Enzo said, looking up at the entrance. “Nerissa once worked here as a barmaid.”
She raised a brow at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “She said it was an interesting experience.”
“I had no idea she’d lived in Paelsia.”
“She’s lived everywhere, it seems. So unlike me, who has never ventured beyond Limeros until now. How boring she must find me.”
“I assure you she finds you anything but boring.” To hear Enzo speak of her friend made Cleo’s heart ache. She had no doubt Nerissa could look after herself, better than any other girl—and possibly boy—she’d ever known, but . . . Cleo couldn’t help but worry for her safety. She hated the thought that she might be in danger while being forced to work close to Amara.
Cleo took a deep breath as she and Enzo pushed through the front doors. Inside the tavern were at least two hundred smelly, dirty patrons.
She scanned the faces, searching for Magnus in the crowd.
This tavern was unlike anything she’d experienced during her two previous visits to Paelsia. Her knowledge of the area was limited to poor markets, decrepit villages, and wide expanses of wasteland.