To think that Cleo had the power of a goddess within her . . .
Part of her felt jealous. The other part felt . . . sympathy.
As Lucia watched the banks of the wide river pass from the deck of the ship, she twisted her amethyst ring, deep in thought.
The ring protected her from her magic, once erratic and nearly impossible to control. It had protected her from Kyan when he’d taken his monstrous form, something she dreamed about most nights, and not only during the dream that Jonas had witnessed.
Kyan had wanted to kill her, and he would have succeeded had it not been for the mysterious magic within the ring.
A ring that Cleo had given to her of her own free will.
It was the greatest treasure—apart from Lyssa—that belonged to Lucia. She prayed that it might help her defeat Kyan when the time came.
And when the time came, she prayed that her magic would also be there without fail or doubt.
The City of Gold appeared in the distance, a glittering and spectacular sight under the sun, surrounded by blue water and seemingly endless rolling hills of greenery. Lucia longed for a different sight, that of an obsidian-black castle in the center of stark white perfection.
Home.
Would she ever see home again? Perhaps it would remind her far too much of Magnus—her brother and her best friend.
He was yet another person she had betrayed, and now it broke her heart to know she would never have the chance to make amends for this.
Lucia, with Lyssa in her arms, disembarked from the ship, and as they walked along the lengthy wooden dock to reach a series of waiting carriages that would take them the remaining short distance to the palace, Lucia shielded her eyes from the sunlight to look up at the shining City of Gold with its glittering wall. The towering spires of the palace were in the direct center of the guarded city.
Then her view of the city was replaced by the face of Cleiona Bellos—her skin was pale and the rims of her eyes red, but she held her chin high.
“Yes?” Lucia prompted when she didn’t immediately speak.
“The nursemaid who looked after my sister and me is still at the palace,” Cleo said. “She was wonderful—kind and sweet, but not weak in any way. I would highly recommend her to look after your daughter.”
Lucia looked down at the face of her baby for a moment. Lyssa blinked, her otherworldly purple eyes shifting in an instant to a more normal blue.
A shiver went down Lucia’s spin. She didn’t know why that happened or what it meant.
“Much gratitude for the suggestion,” she replied.
Cleo nodded and went to join her attendant as they entered the palace.
Once inside, Lucia asked for Cleo’s nursemaid and found her willing and able to attend to Lyssa. She held back any threats she was tempted to make about her daughter’s well-being.
After kissing Lyssa’s forehead in the cradle the nursemaid had swiftly readied, Lucia went to join her father for their audience with Lord Gareth.
The kingsliege wished to meet in the throne room, which had once held golden Auranian decorations and embroidered banners emblazoned with the image of the goddess Cleiona and the Bellos family crest, but which now held only a few small reminders of the time when King Corvin had ruled.
Her gaze lifted to the familiar walls, the stained glass windows. An expansive marble floor and columns lined the hall, leading to the dais and golden throne.
Lord Gareth waited for them in the center of the room. His beard had grown thicker and bushier and more streaked with white than the last time Lucia had seen him.
He held out his hands to the king and Lucia. “Welcome, my dear friends. I hope your trip here was pleasant.”
The sound of his reedy voice, reminiscent of his hateful son’s, made Lucia’s blood boil.
“As pleasant as a trip aboard a Kraeshian ship could be,” the king replied.
Lord Gareth laughed. “The empress hasn’t kept any Limerian vessels for such an occasion?”
“It seems she’s had most of them burned.”
“And now we are all Kraeshians, as it were. Let’s hope only for brighter days ahead, yes?” His gaze swept over Lucia. “You have grown up to be an incredibly beautiful young woman, my dear.”
She did not meet the compliment with a smile or a nod or a blush of her cheeks, as would have been expected of her in the past.
“Where is your son, Lord Gareth?” she said instead.
Lord Gareth’s pleasant expression dropped. “Kurtis? I haven’t seen him since I left Limeros at your father’s command to come here.”
“But you’ve exchanged many messages with him,” the king said. “Even after he became one of Amara’s most loyal minions.”
The lord’s expression became more guarded. “Your majesty, the occupation has been difficult for us all, but we’re trying as well as we can to adjust to the choices you’ve made for Mytica’s future. If anything my son has done seems disloyal, I can assure you he has only tried to fit in with the new regime as best he can. News reaches me only today that many of the empress’s soldiers have been called back to Kraeshia. I wonder if this means that the occupation will slowly and steadily be scaled back to next to nothing.”
“That is very possible,” the king allowed. “I think Amara has lost her interest in Mytica.”
“Good.” Lord Gareth nodded. “Which means we can all get back to business as usual.”
“Did Kurtis tell you that he recently lost his hand?” the king asked casually, moving toward the stairs leading to the throne. He glanced over his shoulder. “That my son sliced it from his wrist?”
Lord Gareth blinked. “Why, yes. He did mention that. He also mentioned that it was as a result of your orders, your majesty, that he came upon such an unfortunate injury. You asked him to deliver Princess Cleiona to you, and it seems that Prince Magnus . . .”
“Disagreed,” the king finished for him when he trailed off. “Rather strongly, yes, he did. My son and I have not seen many issues quite in the same way. Princess Cleiona is most definitely one of them.”
Lucia watched on, suddenly fascinated. She hadn’t heard any of this before now.
“Magnus chopped off Kurtis’s hand . . . to save Cleo,” she said aloud, bemused.
“It was an impulsive choice,” Lord Gareth replied, a thread of distaste in his tone. “But it cannot be undone, so let’s put it behind us, shall we?”
“Have you heard from Kurtis recently?” the king said as he sat down upon the magificent, gilded throne and leaned back, gazing down at Lord Gareth at the bottom of the stairs.
“Not in more than a week.”
“So you don’t know what he’s done now.”
Lord Gareth frowned deeply, his quizzical gaze moving to Lucia for a moment. “I do not.”
“Not even a rumor?” Lucia asked.
“I have heard many rumors,” Lord Gareth replied thinly. “But mostly about you, princess, not my son.”
“Oh? Such as?”