The princess’s lips thinned. “As you said, I’m very lucky.”
“I’m sorry for stating this so bluntly, but as you know, servants talk.” No reason to let Cleo know the king had said anything. Servants were always easiest to blame for everything.
“Yes.” A fresh smile now snaked slowly across Cleo’s face. “I’ve heard things too. About you.”
“Oh? Such as?”
“I’m sure it’s a lie. However, unlike some people, I prefer to make my own judgments, not have my head so easily filled with the gossip of servants.”
Lucia bristled at the sly insult. “What have you heard?”
Cleo moved closer as if ready to speak in quiet confidence. “I heard that you and Magnus had an unsavory relationship before coming here to Auranos. That you’re in love with your own brother.”
Lucia’s mouth fell open. “That’s not true!”
“Of course not. As I said, I make my own judgments. But, despite the distasteful and unnatural leanings of such an attraction on your part, I would understand it. Magnus is very handsome. Don’t you think?” A mocking smile curved the edge of the girl’s mouth, as if she knew she was getting under Lucia’s skin and pushing the boundaries of her patience.
And she was. Lucia’s magic growled and paced in its cage. She wasn’t in love with Magnus and she despised such an accusation. How would Cleo like to know that it was actually Magnus who felt the unnatural and disgusting love for her?
But had that changed? Had this girl seduced Magnus and taken him away from Lucia forever? He was ready to be hers—now and always. She didn’t want him romantically, but she didn’t want to lose him to this meaningless princess.
Irrational—I’m being irrational.
At that moment, she didn’t really care.
Fire magic was the closest to the surface, and her mind reached for it even without her conscious permission. The unlit torches set into the walls of the library caught fire and began to blaze hot and bright. A crack began to slither down a large stained glass window before it shattered, shards of glass raining down on the smooth floor.
Cleo’s head whipped in the direction of the broken window and the torches, her eyes widening with alarm.
“What’s happening? Is it another quake?” Her gaze snapped back to Lucia, who now had her fists clenched at her sides, trying with all her might to calm herself before something truly horrible happened.
Before she lit her brother’s bride on fire and listened to her dying screams.
Sudden clarity reached Lucia with the force of a fist slamming into her stomach and she gasped out loud. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t her. Something was making her act irrationally and violently. It was her elementia. It had closed its hand on the back of her neck like a master with a favored pet, controlling her, commanding her.
The torches returned to a normal height, still lit but now flickering harmlessly as they added more light to the already bright room.
“It’s nothing.” Lucia echoed Cleo’s previous words as she brushed past the wide-eyed princess to go further into the library. She had research to do. She wouldn’t let this stupid girl continue to distract her. The broken glass crunched under the leather soles of her shoes. “A trick of the light, I’m sure. Nothing more.”
Chapter 30
NIC
AURANOS
There was no time to wait. He had to speak with Cleo now. Nic searched the castle until he finally found her outside in the sunny courtyard seated upon a bench, surrounded by trees heavy with fruit and fragrant blossoms. She was so intent on her reading that she didn’t hear him approach. He glanced over her shoulder to see that she was immersed in a book so old its pages were yellow and brittle. She slid her index finger over an illustration of a ring with a large stone and a band like winding ivy.
“That looks like your ring,” he said with surprise. She slammed the book closed and turned to face him, her eyes wide. Then she exhaled shakily. “Oh, Nic. It’s just you.”
He’d rarely seen her as nervous as this. Nic looked toward the other four guards who kept watch over this area. They each stood against the stone walls as still as statues.
Cleo’s knuckles had tightened on the book she now clutched to her chest. Nic tilted his head to read the title: Song of the Sorceress.
He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. He had something to say and he needed to speak before they were interrupted. Privacy for a member of the palace guard—even a reluctant one like him—was fleeting.
“We need to escape this place,” Nic whispered. “We must go while we can, while there’s a chance to leave here undetected. We need to leave tonight.”
“No, Nic.” Cleo’s eyes locked with his. “This is my palace, my throne. I can’t leave. Not yet.”