“If you can help in any way,” Taran said, “I would hope that you would. And it’s not only me, it’s also Princess Cleiona. She’s in trouble . . . we both are.”
“And you need to help the other two,” Ashur said to Valia. “A young man named Nicolo and an immortal named Olivia. However, they are not as fortunate as Taran and Cleiona to still have some semblance of control.”
“He was right,” Valia said under her breath. “We’re close now. Too close.”
“Who was right?” Magnus asked.
“A friend of mine who likes to give advice and ask for difficult and time-consuming favors.” She swept her gaze over the four of them. “Bruno, it was lovely to see you again.”
Bruno bowed deeply. “And you as well. A vision of beauty, as always.”
Valia nodded. “Take me to the other one . . . this Princess Cleiona. I want to see her.”
“And then . . . ?” Magnus asked, his voice tight.
She met his gaze directly. “Then I will determine if there is anything I can do to help you, or if it’s far too late for that.”
CHAPTER 21
CLEO
AURANOS
Cleo woke up in the large canopied featherbed and sleepily reached for her husband.
But there was no one there.
She pushed up on her elbow to see that the silk sheets on the other side of the bed did not show any wrinkles.
Magnus hadn’t returned last night.
When she’d searched for him yesterday evening, she’d learned that he wasn’t the only one missing from the palace without explanation—so were Prince Ashur and Taran.
She wasn’t sure if she should be concerned or annoyed.
As she was thinking about it, her handmaiden arrived, a young Auranian girl named Anya who was attentive and polite. Her smile held even when she noticed the web of strange blue lines that now covered the entirety of Cleo’s right hand and arm.
Anya asked no questions but made polite conversation as she helped Cleo dress in a simple yet beautiful pale rose-colored gown with golden laces at the bodice.
It was one of the dresses Cleo had had modified by the palace tailor to include a pocket for her aquamarine orb.
“Have you seen Prince Magnus this morning?” Cleo asked.
“No, your grace,” Anya replied as she gently dragged a brush through Cleo’s long, tangled hair.
“And not last night either?”
“I’m afraid not. Likely, he’s enjoying the festival like everyone else is.”
“I highly doubt that,” she muttered. “He’s up to something.”
“Perhaps he’s out acquiring you a gift.”
“Perhaps,” Cleo allowed, although she was certain this wasn’t the case. If Magnus was with Taran and Ashur, she doubted that they would be doing anything frivolous. It would have been nice to have been kept informed of any plans.
He’s trying to protect you, she thought.
“I’m not a simpleminded child who needs to be kept away from steep cliffs,” she muttered.
Anya cleared her throat nervously, her smile remaining fixed upon her pretty face. “Of course you aren’t, princess.”
How Cleo longed for the company of Nerissa again. She needed her friend’s guidance and straightforward way of looking at the world, especially when it seemed to be completely falling apart.
Nerissa had told her only that she was going on an important journey with Felix and that she would return as soon as she could. When Cleo had pressed for more information, Nerissa simply shook her head.
“Please trust that I am doing only what I need to do,” she’d said.
Cleo trusted Nerissa because Nerissa had more than earned that trust in the past.
Yet it still seemed as if everyone had left her all alone with her thoughts, her worries, and her fears.
“I heard the most beautiful song last night at the Beast,” Anya said as she pinned Cleo’s hair back from the left side of her face. Cleo had requested that it remain down on the right to hide the lines.
The Beast was a popular tavern in the city, frequented by nobles and servants alike.
“Did you?” she asked absently. “What was it about?”
“It was about the goddess Cleiona’s final fight against Valoria,” Anya said. “And that it was not one of vengeance and anger, but painful necessity. That, in their truest hearts, they loved each other like sisters.”
“What a tragic song,” Cleo said. “And how fantastical. I’ve read nothing about them that would lead me to believe their battle was anything but two enemies who had finally declared war upon each other.”
“Perhaps. But it was very pretty.”
“Very pretty, just like you, my dear. Such a pretty vessel—I can see why you would fight so hard to keep it.”
Cleo’s breath caught as she stared at her reflection, Anya busily tending to her hair.
Who said that?
“You must give in to the waves,” the voice continued. Cleo couldn’t discern if it was a male or female voice; it could easily have been either. “Let them take you under. Don’t resist. Resisting is what makes it hurt the most.”
The water Kindred.
Cleo’s fingertips flew to her throat, to the lines that had crept up higher yesterday.
“Leave me,” she said suddenly to Anya, far more harshly than she’d meant to.
Anya didn’t argue, didn’t say that she wasn’t finished with Cleo’s hair yet, she simply bowed her head and left the room without a word.
“I need you to leave me too,” Cleo said, staring fiercely into her reflected eyes. “Immediately.”
“That won’t happen,” the voice replied. “I chose you, I’m keeping you. It’s as simple as that.”
“There is nothing simple about this.”
“The fact that I’m even able to communicate with you now means that I am close to taking full control. I’ve never taken mortal form before. I think it will be wonderful to finally live on that plane of existence. To see all this world has to offer, to taste it, smell it, touch it. It is something that has been denied me for far too long. Won’t you help me?”
“Help you?” Cleo shook her head, her heart pounding hard in her chest. “Help you to kill me?”
“A mortal life is fleeting. Seventy, eighty years, if one is lucky. I will be eternal.” As Cleo watched her reflection, her eyes began to glow with an otherworldly blue light. “You must go to Kyan. He will help you to make this transition as painless as possible. My brother does not possess a great deal of patience, and his anger can be quick and unpredictable, so you would be doing yourself a great favor, along with so many others who might come to harm, to do as I say.”
Cleo learned forward, studying her now strange and foreign gaze. It was like looking at someone else entirely.
“Never,” she snarled. “I will fight against you until my very last breath!”
She picked up the silver-handled brush that Anya had left behind and threw it at the mirror, shattering the glass on contact.
The water Kindred didn’t say another word.
Cleo burst out of her chambers, knowing that if she stayed a moment longer in there all by herself she would go mad.
She slammed into something solid and warm. And very tall.