Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)

“My deepest apologies for interrupting,” Magnus said, his tone free of sincerity. “So. Archery?”

Cleo waved her hand dismissively. “A simple hobby to help pass the days here.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you already have a hobby? Yes, I believe you’ve previously spent your free time plotting vengeance on me and my entire family?”

“I have many hobbies,” she countered.

“Indeed. Now, what is it you wish to speak to me about?”

“I said I’d prefer to talk in private.”

He cast a glance around the hallway, where servants bustled and several guards were stationed. “This is private enough.”

“Is it?” she said. “Then perhaps we can start by discussing what happened at Lady Sophia’s villa and why you seem to be trying your very hardest to forget all about it?”

His smile fell, and he hissed out a breath as he took Cleo firmly by her upper arm, directing her toward the nearest exit to a balcony. Suddenly she was out in the cold air without a cloak to keep her warm, her breath forming frozen clouds before her.

Magnus extended his arms in presentation. “Privacy. Just as the princess wishes. I hope it’s not too cold out here for you. For me, this temperature is refreshing after so many months trapped in the hellish heat of Auranos.”

How she wished she could read minds, to know exactly what was going on behind his dark brown eyes. Magnus had a rather enviable talent for stripping his expression of any telltale emotion. There was once a time when Cleo believed she had cracked the code, had learned how to see past this mask, but now she doubted herself, just as she doubted everything else.

o;Well . . . when the prince and I were children, we didn’t get along very well. My father would bring me here with him when he had business with the king, and Magnus and I were expected to spend time together, to become friends. It didn’t take long for me to learn that the prince is not one to have close friends. He’s . . . forgive me, your grace, but he was a rather sadistic bully of a boy. And I’m very sorry to see that little has changed over the years.”

A sadistic bully of a boy. It sounded right on target for the son of King Gaius.

“I can only hope . . .” Kurtis trailed off again.

“What?”

He blinked. “I just hope that he hasn’t been overly cruel to you.”

Cleo reached out and squeezed Kurtis’s hand. “Thank you. But I assure you, when it comes to the prince, I can handle myself.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment. You’re so much like your sister.” He smiled, but it quickly faded at the edges. “My deepest condolences on her loss, your grace. She was truly remarkable.”

Cleo tried to ignore the jolt of pain that came from being reminded of her sister, and regarded Kurtis with new interest. “You were a friend of Emilia’s?”

“Acquainted, but I’m not sure I’d say that we were friends. We were rivals, really.” He raised a brow at Cleo’s look of curiosity. “We met several years ago in Auranos, where we competed against each other in an archery tournament held in her honor. She was so talented, and she insisted that boys and girls should compete in the same matches.”

Cleo couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of the festivals and competitions once held in the City of Gold. “Yes, Emilia was an incredible archer. I envied her. But, then again, it takes years of practice to hone a skill like that, and back then I preferred activities that were much less athletic.”

Attending parties. Drinking wine. Exploring markets. Having her hair braided and styled by skilled attendants. Being fitted for extravagant gowns. Spending time with good friends—not that any of them had sent a single letter or condolence since the deaths of her father and sister.

Kurtis nodded. “It was unusual for a princess of her status—not to mention an heiress to the throne—to take up such a hobby, but she deeply impressed me. And I was even more impressed when she became the champion of our match.”

Emilia must have loved that, Cleo thought. To have beaten the boys at their own game. “Please don’t tell me you let her win.”

“Far from it. I tried my very best and came in second place . . . a very close second place. I would have loved the glory of the win, especially at that young and vulnerable age. I’d always hoped for a rematch, but some dreams aren’t meant to come true.”

“No, they’re not,” Cleo mused. Her sister had practiced with her bow and arrow every day until she fell ill with the disease that stole her life. Cleo used to joke that Emilia could bring back enough venison for a whole year after just one afternoon hunting trip. Or, perhaps, defend the palace with the rest of the guards if they were ever attacked.

Cleo had no such skills with weaponry. She’d been able to defend herself so far with a sharp dagger and a great deal of luck. Otherwise, she was dependent on others to protect her from danger.

“Lord Kurtis . . .” she began, an idea suddenly brewing in her mind.

“Please, princess. It’s just Kurtis. My friends needn’t use my title to address me.”

“Kurtis,” she repeated with a smile. “You should feel free to call me Cleo.”