“The honor is mine,” answered Kurtis. “I’ve been told of your beauty, but you’ve far exceeded my greatest expectations.”
“You’re much too kind, given the way I must look this morning.”
“Not at all. You are luminous. But you must assure me you’re not in any pain.”
Her smile remained. “I’m not.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
Every muscle in Magnus’s body had grown tense at the sound of the “kingsliege’s” voice. “And this is Nicolo Cassian, who is the princess’s . . .” How best to explain the boy’s identity and presence here? “. . . attendant.”
Kurtis’s brows shot up. “A male attendant? How unusual.”
“Not in the south.” To Nic’s credit, he took the introduction in stride. “It’s fine, upstanding, manly work down there.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Magnus had had enough forced pleasantries. It was time to move this along.
“I suppose you wonder why my wife and I are here, in Limeros, and not with my father in Auranos,” Magnus said. “Or have you been alerted about our current situation?”
“I have not. This is an unexpected, but very welcome, surprise.”
Some of the tension in Magnus’s shoulders eased. “Then I’ll let you in on a closely guarded secret: We’re in Limeros to search for my sister, who has eloped with her tutor. We need to stop her from making this mistake . . . and any further ones.”
“Oh, my.” Kurtis clasped his hands behind his back. “Lucia has always been full of surprises, hasn’t she?”
You have no idea, Magnus thought. “She has indeed.”
Nodding, Kurtis ascended the stairs leading to the king’s throne and took a seat upon it. Magnus watched him with sheer disbelief, but decided to hold his tongue.
“I will make a dozen guards available to you for this important search,” Kurtis said. He then addressed one of the guards at the entrance. “Organize this immediately and return here.”
The guard bowed. “Yes, your grace.”
Magnus watched the guard leave. “They obey your orders with much ease.”
“They do. It’s all in their training. Limerian guards will take any official order and fulfill it to the letter at once.”
Magnus nodded. “My father wouldn’t have it any other way. Those who show any sign of defiance are . . . disciplined.” It was a rather light word for the punishments Magnus had seen inflicted on palace guards who didn’t give themselves over—body, mind, and soul—to their duties to the kingdom.
“As they should be,” said Kurtis. “Now, I will arrange accommodations for you, your beautiful wife, and her attendant.”
“Yes. I will take my regular chambers. The princess will need separate chambers befitting her position. And Nic can be given . . .” He eyed the boy. “. . . servants’ quarters. Perhaps one of the slightly larger rooms.”
“You’re too kind,” Nic said darkly.
“Separate chambers for husband and wife?” Kurtis said, frowning.
“That is what I said,” Magnus said, a moment before it occurred to him that this might seem a strange request for husband and wife.
“Magnus is kind enough to ask this on my behalf,” Cleo spoke up to ease Kurtis’s confusion. “It’s a long-standing tradition in my family to retain separate chambers for the first year of marriage, both for luck, and also to make our time spent together all the more . . . exciting and unpredictable.” She blushed and cast her gaze downward, as if embarrassed by the admission. “It’s a silly tradition, I know.”
“Not at all,” Magnus said, impressed by the princess’s ready lie.
Kurtis nodded, seemingly satisfied by this explanation. “Very well. I’ll ensure that you’re given exactly what you require.”
“Good.” Magnus returned his attention to the “kingsliege.” “I also need to send some men to the Temple of Valoria immediately. There was a violent, isolated ice storm there last night that killed many. The victims should be buried by midday and the temple restored to its former glory as quickly as possible.”