“She’s eager to learn about everything, your highness, but of course I understand if you feel that a woman has no place in such meetings.”
Murmurs hummed along the council table of the old men who agreed with this statement.
Magnus thought he knew what Kurtis was trying to do. He wanted to make Magnus look like a fool before the council. Either by allowing a woman to sit in on the meeting—women were sternly forbidden from participation in any official palace affairs—or by tempting Magnus to protest his suggestion, thus risking offending the princess, which might allow Kurtis to gain more of her trust.
Magnus gestured to the guard. “Bring her in.”
Cleo entered the throne room, her gaze keen and her chin raised. If she was at all nervous about being here, she didn’t show it.
Her gown was blue, the color of Auranos and her favorite. Her long, golden locks hung in loose curls to her waist, free of any braids or twists.
He much preferred when she wore her hair up. It wasn’t such a distraction to him then.
“Princess,” he said stiffly, indicating the vacant chair to his right. Hesitating only slightly, she approached and took the seat.
During their time in Limeros, he’d of course seen Cleo at meals and other public events, but he hadn’t spoken to her privately since their discussion on the balcony. He reminded himself to avoid balconies in the future—they were dangerous places to find himself alone with her.
“All of you have had the honor of meeting Princess Cleiona Bellos of Auranos.” He reintroduced the members of the council, who all nodded at her in turn. “And, of course, princess, you’re already well familiar with Lord Kurtis.”
“Indeed. Lord Kurtis has been teaching me how to handle a bow and arrow this last week,” Cleo explained to the councilmen. “He’s an excellent tutor.”
“And you are an excellent student,” Kurtis replied. “Soon you’ll be winning competitions, just as your sister did, if that’s your goal.”
Oh yes, Magnus thought wryly. I’m sure that’s exactly why she wants to learn how to send sharp arrows directly and precisely into a target.
Magnus decided to imagine Kurtis’s right eye socket as his own personal target.
“Your highness, perhaps it would be interesting to get the princess’s take on the problem at hand?” Kurtis suggested.
This sounded very much like a challenge.
“Yes,” Magnus agreed. “It would be interesting, wouldn’t it?”
“How absolutely ludicrous,” the high priest said under his breath.
“What was that?” Magnus asked sharply. “Did you say something?”
The priest smiled weakly. “No, your highness. I was just clearing my throat. I look forward to hearing your wife’s thoughts.”
Magnus slid the financial document in front of Cleo. She scanned it quickly, her expression turning serious. “This is a great deal of money,” she said. “To whom is it owed?”
“King Gaius has an agreement with the moneylenders in Veneas,” Kurtis replied. “They expect to be repaid without extensive delay.”
“And so you’re taxing all of the Limerian people to these great extents?” She looked sharply at each of the council members. “What about the rich?”
“What about them, your grace?” asked Lord Loggis.
“According to this document, these financial issues are due to the decisions of the rich. Why wouldn’t they be expected to contribute the lion’s share of this debt? To clean up their own mess?”
“That’s quite a sentiment for an Auranian royal to have,” Loggis countered. “Then again, Auranos’s poor would be the equivalent of our rich, wouldn’t they?”
“Thank you for your opinion about my homeland, but you didn’t answer my question,” Cleo said with a patient smile. “Should I take your insult to mean that you’re trying to avoid this matter? Or that you’re not sure why your taxes are structured as they are?”
Magnus watched her with barely concealed amusement. Cleo certainly wasn’t winning many allies in this room, but he found her ability to stand up for herself deeply admirable.
Not that he’d ever admit this out loud, of course.
“Well?” Cleo prompted, glancing next at Lord Kurtis.