“What prophecy is it that relates to Lucia? What are you waiting to see from her?”
The king didn’t say anything for a long time. His eyes narrowed. “You know how I feel about those who listen in on my private conversations, Magnus.”
He cringed internally. Sometimes even he knew not to speak so bluntly unless he wanted his father to lash out. It was difficult to remember sometimes. But he was on edge and having a difficult time controlling himself. His mask of indifference usually served him much better than this.
Learning that Lucia was a witch, however, had knocked his world off balance. He’d found that the mask he’d depended on had shifted. It was difficult to set it back into its proper position without great effort.
Magnus was certain his father would not answer him. Perhaps he would send him away without any new information. That would be fine since he could go immediately to Lucia’s chambers and continue with her practice.
Finally the king spoke. “If I admit something like this to you, Magnus, we’re treading on very dangerous ground.”
“The truth is only dangerous if it can inflict injury.” He pretended to be more interested in a platter of apples and cheese on a nearby table than on every word his father uttered.
“Lies can make harsh truths less painful. But I believe pain is essential for growth.” The king’s gaze was unflinching. “Do you think you’re ready for such honesty?”
Magnus looked his father right in his eyes, which were the exact same color as his own. As he studied his father’s face, he couldn’t help but see the coldness there. The king had reminded him of a serpent for as long as he could remember—just like the cobra that adorned the family crest. A slippery one with venom and fangs.
“I want to know about Lucia,” Magnus said firmly. “And I want to know now.”
The king stood up from his throne and paced to the other side of the room so he could look out a window down the sheer, frost-covered cliff side to the sea far below. “Many years ago, Sabina and her sister studied the stars looking for a sign of a special birth. A child to become one of legend and magic.”
“Magic.” The word itself was dangerous.
The king nodded slowly. “Sabina is a witch.”
Magnus felt himself pale. He’d never cared for Sabina, but he’d never seen any indication that what his father claimed was true. “You took me to see a witch burn when I was twelve years old. It was a lesson on what happens to them should they try to work magic here in Limeros. And yet you say that your mistress is one? I didn’t even know you believed in such things other than making examples out of those who might spread evil and lies.”
The king spread his hands. “There are hard choices one must make as king. For a long time, I didn’t believe. But it’s true, Magnus. Magic is real.”
“You would condemn one woman to death for being accused of witchcraft yet consider Sabina your closest advisor? One you also take to your bed?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, only to accept that what I’ve done—what I’ve always done—has been for the benefit of my kingdom. Sabina is a rare exception for me.”
His mind reeled. “What does this have to do with Lucia?”
“There was a prophecy of a child born who would one day possess the power not of a witch, but of a sorceress.”
Magnus went very still. “And you believe it’s your own daughter.”
The king grabbed Magnus’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “I have waited a very long time to learn if it’s true. But there’s been no sign that Lucia is anything as extraordinary as this. Sixteen years, Magnus. I grow frustrated.”
His stomach clenched. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’ve seen nothing. Nothing? Truly?”
Magnus chose his words wisely. “Truly. There is nothing for me to report. She is as any other sixteen-year-old girl might be. To think she could be a sorceress—” His throat tightened. “It’s ludicrous.”
Lies did soften the painful truth a great deal.
“I refuse to believe that,” the king said through clenched teeth. There was a sheen of perspiration now on his father’s brow. “She’s the key, Magnus. She’s essential to my plans. I need all the help I can get.”
“What? You mean with Auranos?”
“Of course. Nothing else matters right now.”
“Surely our army combined with Basilius’s, though . . . ”
“Basilius’s? Ha. Untrained, underfed youths who’ve never held a sword before. Auranos, for all their lazy lifestyle, has an impressive military. No, we need a guarantee.”