Even while wracked with sobs, she knew she had no time for tears or regrets.
She had to get to Emilia.
Cleo forced herself up from the ground and ran for the door. She burst into the hallway, only to crash right into somebody. Nic staggered back a few feet away and gingerly rubbed his chest.
“Ouch. You do have a habit of frequently hurting me, Cleo.” He studied her red, swollen eyes with concern. “I heard a cry from your chambers. I thought you were in distress.”
Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. “I was. I am. I—I have the seeds. Eirene...she was the Watcher.”
He stared at her blankly. “How much wine did you have tonight? I believe you might be even drunker than Aron.”
“I’m not drunk. It’s true.” Her heavy heart lifted. “Come. We much go to Emilia’s chambers immediately.”
“You really believe in magic?” he asked.
“Yes!”
He nodded and a grin crept across his face. “Then let’s go save your sister.”
They hurried through the hallways toward Emilia’s room, passing through a corridor where she caught part of a conversation between two guards.
“Their forces are relentless,” one said. “The palace walls aren’t impenetrable.”
“They’ve breached the walls?” Nic asked sharply, drawing Cleo to a halt.
The guards looked sheepish as if they hadn’t meant to be overheard.
“I’m afraid so,” one said, nodding gravely. “But they won’t get into the castle.”
“How can you sound so confident of that?” Cleo said, concern twisting inside her.
They exchanged a look. She might only be sixteen, but as princess they were obligated to answer her questions. “The doors of the castle are fortified by a witch’s spell.”
She looked at him with disbelief. “My father never told me this.”
“The spell is renewed every year by the same witch to keep it strong. But she won’t be much help to us anymore.”
“Hush,” his friend hissed.
“Why?” Nic asked. “Where’s the witch now?”
The first guard’s jaw tensed and his eyes shifted back and forth between his friend, Nic, and Cleo. “King Gaius sent her head to the king in a box three days ago. But it doesn’t matter. Whatever that bastard king tries to do now, the spell will still hold. He will fail.”
Cleo knew the king of Limeros had a horrible, bloodthirsty son, but it sounded as if he might be even worse—just as the rumors she’d heard about him threatened. “Why wouldn’t my father tell me any of this?”
“The king wants to protect you from the bad things that are happening.”
“So why are you telling us?” Nic asked.
“Because you have a right to know that we’re all in danger here.” His expression hardened. “The king has put us all at risk by refusing to surrender.”
Cleo inhaled sharply. “You think he should?”
“It would save a great many more deaths outside on the battlefield. Does he think that we can stay inside this castle forever, with or without a spell keeping the doors sealed? We’re no better than a cornered rabbit waiting for the wolf to tear out its throat.”
Cleo looked down her nose at this sniveling coward. “How dare you speak ill of my father? He’s making the best choice he can to keep Auranos strong. Yet you’d prefer he surrender to the King of Blood? Do you think that the world would be better then? Do you think those who have already lost their lives would be saved?”
“What do you know?” the guard asked darkly. “You’re only a girl.”