Magnus sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed into Lucia’s eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, but resisted the urge. Given the strain between them from when he’d kissed her before, he knew that wouldn’t be wise.
He didn’t believe his heart would recover from her rejection, but here he was, and his pulse pounded hard and fast now that she had finally returned to him. Another chance to prove himself to her. He would not act so impulsively again.
“You’re awake now and all is well,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Weak. And . . . horrible.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I killed people with my magic, Magnus.”
More than two hundred had died in or because of the explosion, but he chose not to share such distressing numbers with her. “No one blames you for anything that happened. It had to be done. And had it not, we wouldn’t have won. We would be the ones who died. It’s not your fault.”
“That’s what he told me too—that it wasn’t my fault.”
He looked at her sharply. “Who told you?”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “No one.”
“Who is Alexius, Lucia?”
Her eyes, now wide, returned to lock with his. “Where did you hear that name?”
“I’m told that you whispered it in your sleep.” Something dark and endlessly unpleasant stirred within him.
“Alexius, he’s . . .” Lucia shook her head. “No one. Just a dream. Nothing more than that.”
Before Magnus could ask another question, the door creaked open and the queen entered, alone.
She greeted Magnus with a smile. “I wanted to check on Lucia, to see if she’s—” She gasped and closed the distance to the bed in only a few steps. “Lucia! My darling! You’ve come back to us. Praise the goddess!”
Lucia’s distressed expression froze away. “My, my. What a greeting. I must truly have been close to death to elicit such devotion from you.”
The queen flinched. “I suppose I deserve that.”
Lucia’s face paled. “Apologies, Mother. I—I didn’t mean such poisonous words. I’m sorry. It’s as though I couldn’t hold them back.”
“Nor should you, my darling. You must always give voice to how you feel. Don’t hold it inside.” The queen quickly composed herself and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember the last time you rose from your slumber? This has happened before.”
Magnus’s gaze shot to her. “It has?”
She nodded. “Twice before when I was here. Alas, it never lasts more than a few minutes and then she falls back asleep.”
He fisted his hands at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
His mother turned her head at his sharp and angry tone, her expression patient. “Because I knew you would only be disappointed. I know how deeply you love your sister.”
There was something in the way she said it. Did the queen know Magnus’s dark secret as Lucia did?
He wished that they might wipe the slate clean. To return to how it was when everything was simpler between them. To start again.
Impossible.
“I don’t remember waking before,” Lucia said, confused, as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“You still should have told me, Mother,” Magnus growled. “And told Father, too.”
“And risk one of his rages when she slipped away yet again? No, my son. I certainly shouldn’t have. We will see how this goes, if she stays with us this time, before we say a single word about it to him.”
“I will stay awake,” Lucia insisted.
“Go now,” the queen said, standing up and squeezing Magnus’s hands in her own. “I’ll attend to my daughter.”