Jonas grinned mischievously. “Well, then, I’ll have to see what she wants, won’t I?” He leaned toward Cleo and kissed her cheek. “By the way, that shade of violet is my favorite. And you look gorgeous, as usual.”
Cleo couldn’t help but notice that Magnus’s eyebrows furrowed immediately whenever Jonas complimented her.
Perhaps they always would.
“And you . . .” Magnus eyed Nic.
“What about me?” Nic shot back.
A smile turned up the corner of his mouth. “I might surprise you yet.”
“Oh, you do surprise me,” Nic replied. “Constantly. Be good to her or you’ll have me to answer to, your majesty.”
“Noted,” Magnus replied.
Then Nic and Jonas left them to take the remaining walk to the balcony in privacy.
“I still hate both of them,” Magnus told her. “Just so you know.”
“No, you don’t,” Cleo replied with amusement.
Magnus shook his head. “What exactly is it that my sister sees in that rebel?”
She repressed a grin. “If I have to tell you, it would be a waste of my breath.”
Whenever Lucia wasn’t spending time with her daughter, she seemed to be with Jonas. The only one who seemed to have a problem with this was Magnus.
He’ll get over it, Cleo thought. Probably.
The day after the Kindred had been defeated, they’d received a message from Nerissa explaining what had happened in Kraeshia.
It said that Amara’s grandmother had commanded the assassin to take the life of King Gaius. And that she’d arranged to have Lyssa kidnapped, making it seem as if it had been the fire Kindred.
A week later, Nerissa and Felix returned from their journey and delivered Lyssa into her young mother’s grateful arms.
“I do like your hair like this, very much.” Magnus twisted a long, loose golden strand around his finger as he pressed Cleo up against the wall of the corridor. They were inches away from the balcony where they would be addressing the cheering Limerian crowds and making their first speech as king and queen.
“I know,” she said with a smile.
He traced his fingers along the tendril that framed her temple. She gently touched his scar.
“Can we do this?” she asked, a sliver of doubt creeping in. “For real? Or are we going to fight every day about everything? We have vastly different outlooks on a million different subjects.”
“Absolutely true,” he said. “And I anticipate countless heated arguments that will stretch deep, deep into the night.” A grin pulled at his lips. “Is it wrong that I look greatly forward to each and every one of them?”
Then he kissed her deeply, stealing both her breath and her thoughts.
They would make this work.
Mytica—Limeros, Paelsia, and Auranos—mattered to both of them. Their people mattered to them. And the future stretched before them, both frightening and enticing in far too many ways to count.
Magnus took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the thin gold band she now wore, a near match for his own. When she’d questioned him about the rings, he’d insisted that it wasn’t the bloodstone melted down and made into two rings.
She didn’t believe him, since she hadn’t seen his thick gold ring since that fateful night.
If she was right, Magnus had created the most powerful pair of wedding bands in history.
“Apologies for interrupting,” a voice cut between them, making Cleo gasp against Magnus’s lips.
“Valia,” Magnus said with surprise. “You’re here.”
“I am.” The witch wore her long black hair loose. It cascaded down the back of her burgundy gown.
Several guards who stood along the walls nearby didn’t make a single move toward her.
“You didn’t answer Prince Ashur’s summons when we needed you,” he said darkly.
She smiled. “Perhaps I did. Perhaps I’m answering that summons now. But what difference does it make? You survived, both of you. And you’re ready to begin the rest of your lives together.”
True enough, Cleo thought. But a little extra help would have been lovely.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I’ve come to give you a gift. A symbol of luck and prosperity for the future of Mytica under the new rule of its young king and queen.” Valia held out a small plant, its roots encased in a burlap pouch.
“What is it?” Magnus asked, eyeing it.
“A grapevine seedling,” she said. “One that will yield perfect grapes year after year, just like those produced by the greatest vineyards of Paelsia.”
“Much gratitude,” Cleo said, taking the plant from the woman. “Alas, it will not last long if we don’t get it into Paelsian soil soon.”
“This one will do well wherever you plant it, even here in Limeros,” Valia said with confidence. “I promise you that.”
“Earth magic,” Cleo guessed.
Valia nodded. “Yes. It certainly helps. And ever since the Kindred were defeated, I feel that my magic has increased. I am grateful for that.”
It wasn’t the first time Cleo had heard this claim. Lucia said her magic had also strengthened, that the drain that Lyssa had on it was no longer an issue for her.
“Will you be present for our speech?” Magnus asked.
Valia nodded again. “I plan to join those in the palace square now.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Much gratitude for your gift, Valia.”
Cleo froze as the witch pressed her hand against Cleo’s belly.
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step back.
“Your son will be very strong and very handsome,” Valia said. “And in time he will discover a great treasure, one that will benefit the world.”
“Our son . . . ?” Cleo began, sharing a shocked look with Magnus.
Valia bowed her head. “All the best to you, Queen Cleiona. King Magnus.”
As the witch walked away, Cleo was certain she saw the brief flash of a gold dagger—one that looked very much like the dagger Lucia had used to destroy the Kindred orbs—in the sheath on her leather belt.
How strange, she thought.
But the thought quickly left her mind. She was focused on something else entirely that Valia had said.
Their son.
Her gown had been so much tighter this morning. And she hadn’t been able to keep any breakfast down, but she’d decided that was due to her nerves about starting her and Magnus’s coronation tour.
“A son?” Magnus asked, breathless. “Did she just say something about our son?”
Cleo tried to find her voice. “Yes, she did.”
He searched her face, his eyes wide. “Is there something that you haven’t told me yet?”
She laughed nervously. “Perhaps we can discuss this in further depth after our speech?”
A slow smile appeared on Magnus’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Immediately after.”
Cleo nodded, trying very hard to keep her happy tears at bay.
Her hand in his, they approached the doors leading to the balcony.
“Seeing Valia again,” Cleo mused, “her face seems so recognizable to me, like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
“Seen it where?” Magnus asked.
Then it came to her. “That book—the one about your goddess I’d recently started to read. It had some of the most incredible illustrations I’ve ever seen. So detailed.”
“So who does the witch remind you of?” he asked.