She was Princess Lucia Eva Damora, daughter of King Gaius, in every way that counted.
And today she had his permission to leave the palace.
• • •
The king had told her to consult a guide who was familiar with the city. But he never specified who this guide should be.
“Apologies, Princess Lucia, but she is not allowed past the palace gates without the king’s permission.”
Lucia looked from the guard to Cleo, who stood next to her, exasperated.
“It’s all right,” Cleo said. “I’ll stay here. I don’t want any trouble.”
Lucia was still uncertain about Cleo, but if there was anyone who knew this city well, it was her. And if there was anyone besides Lucia who knew what it felt to be trapped inside the palace all day and night, it was Cleo as well.
She turned now to the guard with what she hoped was her iciest glare. “I have my father’s permission to leave the palace and I’m taking my brother’s wife with me. Let us pass, or I won’t be pleased.”
“But, princess—”
She raised her hand, silencing him. “You do know how much my father adores me?”
“Of course, your highness. But I have my orders. You must understand.”
sn’t his fault that their relationship had soured—not entirely. The thought of their broken bond made her heart ache.
Once the last of the councilmen had departed, her father greeted her. “Lucia. It’s wonderful to see you, my dear.”
She’d practiced the words on her way through the still-unfamiliar corridors. Now all she had to do was say them.
“I’d like permission to leave the palace today,” she said, rushing to speak before she had the chance to doubt herself.
He raised his dark brow. “Would you, now.”
“I know you don’t think it’s safe, but I disagree. The city is walled and well secured. I’ll take several guards with me. But I—I can’t tell you how much I need to get out of here and breathe some fresh air. To see something new. Even the courtyard and gardens are oppressive to me now. I feel like a prisoner here.”
“Of course you’re not a prisoner, Lucia.” The king drew closer, his expression one of genuine concern. “You think I’d deny you this request?”
“I don’t know. I know you worry about my safety.”
He touched her cheek, a smile playing over the thin line of his mouth. “I’ve seen what you can do. I have no doubt you would be able to protect yourself if you were ever threatened.”
Her heart leapt. “Then you’re giving your permission.”
“And if I say no?”
A spark of anger ignited within her. “But why would you? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Everything! You yourself said I can protect myself. And I can! I ask for one little thing in all these months and you would deny me—”
“Lucia,” he said, cutting her off. “I was merely asking rhetorically to see if you’d be willing to fight for what you want. I see now that you are, and that you came here knowing you would accept only one response from me. Good. I like to see that fire in you, that strength. If ever anyone tries to deny you something you want, then you just take it, no matter who they are. Is that clear?”
Lucia relaxed. The king was only imparting a lesson, one that she received happily. “Yes, Father.”
“However, I do suggest you consult a knowledgeable guide so as not to waste your valuable time on mediocre sites.”
She nodded eagerly, her heart thudding with anticipation. “I will.”
“Good.” He went to the long council table, glancing at the parchment and letters and formal documents still strewn on its surface from the meeting, then returned his attention back to Lucia. “Tell me, though—how is your magic coming along? Your control?”
The king asked her the same questions every day. He knew how much her abilities had troubled her in the past and had tried to find tutors to help her—so far to no avail. Her magic was more powerful than anything her tutors had encountered before. “Better, I think. I work on it every day.” On trying to repress it, to keep it from killing anyone else, she thought. “I try my best.”