Nerissa placed an opal-handled hairbrush down on the vanity table and looked back at Cleo’s reflection. “You say you’ve already agreed to go along with this new plan,” she said, “so I think you should stay true to that agreement. At this stage in the prince’s scheme, there’s very little to do with you, and much more to do with Jonas. Nothing has really changed, it seems. Except, perhaps, your ongoing question of whether the prince is capable of being honest about his true agenda.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Cleo said.
“You said he’s forgiven you for conspiring with Jonas.”
“He says he understands why I did what I did.”
Nic let out an exasperated groan. “How have you two not figured this out yet? If the prince’s mouth is moving, he’s lying.”
Cleo’s eyes flashed with frustration. “And what if he isn’t lying this time? We just give up the first chance we’ve had in months to reclaim our kingdom?”
“But what if he is, once again, misleading you? Cleo, damn it,” he swore under his breath, “I can’t lose you, too. Got it?” His tone was fierce, but his eyes had grown glossy. He rubbed at them and turned away from her. “I need some air, even if it might turn my lungs to ice.”
He left the room, and Cleo rose to her feet to go after him.
“Let him clear his head,” Nerissa said, placing her hand on the princess’s shoulder. “It’ll give you the time to do the same.”
“Nerissa . . . I don’t know what to believe anymore. Everything used to be so clear and now . . . I’m just so confused.” Her voice caught. “I haven’t even had a chance to speak to Jonas privately.”
Magnus had put the rebel and his friends up somewhere on the far side of the castle, but Cleo didn’t know exactly where. And the prince made it clear he wasn’t going to tell her.
“Yes, of course you need to talk to him,” Nerissa said. “But first you need to talk to the prince. If you peel back the layers of animosity and suspicion and . . . confusion you feel, perhaps your sense of clarity isn’t as marred as you think it is.”
The thought of talking to Magnus after all that had unfolded in the throne room sent a shiver running through her.
No. She wouldn’t allow herself to fear him. Hate him? Loathe him? Distrust him? Yes. But never fear. She’d decided that long ago.
Still, Cleo shook her head. “It’s the Limerian day of silence. I wouldn’t even know where to find him.” Cleo had never experienced a single day of silence at the Auranian palace, and to witness such quiet in a place as stark as this northern castle was about as jarring as she could imagine.
“This day of worship will only make it much easier to find and speak to him in peace,” Nerissa reasoned. “Everyone in Limeros has gathered in the temples and village centers to worship their goddess. And I happen to know exactly where the prince has gone to do his worshipping.”
offered Amara a slight shrug and another small grin as he accompanied the king out of the room.
“Father?” Dastan said quietly when all had fallen silent in the hall.
“It seems I have a great deal to think about,” the emperor replied.
Yes, Amara thought. You certainly do.
• • •
Later that evening, Amara wandered the hallways, feeling too energetic to retire to her chambers for the night. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way the king had taken full command of that meeting. She’d wondered why he’d been so foolish to come here, thinking it was a mistake for anyone to try to confront her father.
She’d forgotten King Gaius’s reputation.
He was ruthless, power hungry, and now claimed his mother had been a witch.
Fascinating.
Her reverie was broken when she bumped into Felix.
“Stop,” she said.
“Stopping,” he replied, then gestured at the doorway beside him. “Luckily, this is my room anyway.”
“I know you didn’t grow up in a palace, but you should at least know that it’s not very smart or polite to wink at a princess, especially during a formal event,” she said.
“Well, I’ve never been accused of being smart or polite before.”