“What?” Cleo gasped. “I know they died years before I was born, but . . . I was never told how.”
“Some feel that painful tales are best kept from innocent ears. They were killed by an assassin sent by Queen Selia Damora herself. Until that moment, I believed there was still a chance that Elena would walk away from the wedding to be with me instead. But in her grief, Elena believed the rumors that I was the one behind this act. She married Corvin and made it clear that she hated me. I didn’t take the rejection well, so I did what any fool would do. I became everything she thought I was.”
Cleo’s mind reeled. “So you weren’t always . . .”
“Evil and sadistic?” The small, cold smile returned. “I was never kind, at least not to those who didn’t deserve it. And very few did. This, however . . . it worked exactly as my mother wished. I tried not to care when I heard of your sister’s birth. I tried not to give a damn again about anything to do with Elena.” He snorted softly. “Then one day I received another letter from her. She wanted to see me again, even heavy with her second child. She asked me to visit the following month. But the following month, I learned she was dead.”
Cleo’s throat felt thick. For a moment, she couldn’t even attempt to speak.
The king’s gaze locked on the painted eyes of Queen Elena Bellos. “My mother found out about my plans to see her again, and she . . . intervened. And for years I believed her lies about the witch’s curse and that you were the one who killed her. I supposed I wanted to believe it.” He let out a pained snarl. “My mother destroyed my entire life, and I allowed it.”
“She . . . she wanted the fire Kindred to use your body as a host, not Nic’s.” Cleo had been trying to rationalize this since it had happened. “If she wanted ultimate power for you, had planned it all her life, that doesn’t make any sense.”
King Gaius nodded. “I agree, what happened was not according to Selia Damora’s plan. But I know my mother enough to know that she would have found a way to shift control back to me. Back to her.”
Cleo’s mind was in turmoil over everything the king had shared. She went over what he’d just said. “If you believe that, do you think there’s a way to bring Nic back?”
He sneered. “I don’t know, nor do I care about that boy’s fate.”
“I care,” she said. “My mother is dead. My father and sister are dead. My dear friend Mira is dead. And now Magnus is dead.” Her voice broke, and a layer of frost suddenly began to spread across the walls in the alcove. “But Nic isn’t. Not yet. And if there’s something I can do to help him, then I have to try!”
King Gaius eyed the icy walls uneasily. “Are you doing that with water magic?”
Cleo’s hands shook, but she held them out in front of her. The glowing, spidery blue lines had begun to spread over her wrists. “I—I can’t control it.”
“Don’t try to control it,” he said. “Or it will kill you.”
“What do you care?” she spat.
Gaius’s eyebrows drew together. He looked pained. “Magnus loved you. He fought for you. He defied me again and again in order to save you, even if it meant his own destruction. He was worthy of you in a way that I was never worthy of Elena. I see that now. And for that alone, you must survive this, Cleiona Bellos.” Then he scowled at her. “But know this. I would personally kill you in an instant if it meant that my son could live again.”
Cleo didn’t have a chance to reply before the king walked away, swallowed by the darkness of the library.
CHAPTER 11
MAGNUS
PAELSIA
When Magnus and Ashur returned to the walled royal compound by way of the Imperial Road, they found it all but deserted.
Amara and half her soldiers had set sail for Kraeshia.
King Gaius and a handful of others—including Cleo—had left for the Auranian palace.
“Do you think we can trust what he says?” Ashur asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Magnus pressed the blade he’d stolen harder against the Kraeshian guard’s throat. The guard had been patrolling outside the gates when Magnus and Ashur grabbed him and dragged him behind a thatch of thorny bushes out of sight of other guards. “He seems sincere enough.”
The guard’s eyes moved wildly between them. “I wouldn’t lie, not to you, your highness. I don’t believe your sister’s accusations about you.”
Magnus sent a sidelong look toward his companion. “I don’t think he’s addressing me.”
Ashur stepped closer. “Amara has accused me of horrible crimes against my family and against the empire itself.”
“And many refuse to believe her. Your sister doesn’t deserve to ascend to empress. You are the rightful emperor of Kraeshia. Say the word, and I will give my life for yours.”
“No,” Ashur said, a shadow crossing his gray-blue eyes. “I want no one else to sacrifice themselves for me. I don’t want the royal scepter my sister desires more than anything else. I never have.”
“Tell me more about Princess Cleiona,” Magnus growled at the guard. “Did Kurtis Cirillo return here? Is she safe?”
“I only saw her briefly when she left with the king’s entourage. Lord Kurtis hasn’t been heard from in days.”
Magnus already knew what had happened during the ritual. After the shocking realization that the fire Kindred now resided within the body of Nic Cassian, Ashur had filled him in on what had happened to Cleo.
He needed to get to her. To see her for himself if she was suffering in any way from this unexpected affliction.
Magnus always believed her to be a goddess; he just never thought she’d become a literal one.
“There’s nothing here for us,” Magnus growled, pulling his blade away from the guard’s throat. “Let’s leave.”
“Your highness?” the guard ventured. “Will you stay? Will you lead us against your sister?”
Ashur didn’t respond to the guard. Instead he turned his back and kept pace with Magnus as they left the compound.
No one followed them.
“Fool,” Magnus muttered.
Ashur glanced at him. “Are you referring to me?”
“You have great power within your grasp, and you consciously choose to ignore it.”
The Kraeshian prince clenched his jaw for a moment before replying. “I don’t want to be emperor.”
“Just because you don’t have a craving for an apple doesn’t mean you need to upend an entire cart of them out of spite.” Why did he even care to comment? Amara and her lust for power didn’t register as important for him at the moment.
All he wanted was to get to the Auranian palace.
That was as far into the future as he currently thought.
They’d walked along the Imperial Road for hours in silence. It would lead them through the Wildlands and into Auranos without the risk of being seen at the docks of Trader’s Harbor. For every guard who might claim loyalty to Prince Ashur, Magnus knew there were a dozen more who’d been commanded by Amara to kill him on sight.
Magnus washed the remainder of the dirt off himself in the first body of water they came upon. Since it was Paelsia, it was a thin, muddy river.