Jonas couldn’t repress his sigh of relief. “Good.”
“Oh, yes, it’s lovely to be completely shut out by those who control your destiny.”
Again, her outrage sparked a smile from him. “You control your destiny, princess. No one else.”
She studied him with bemusement in her eyes. “You are the most frustrating boy I’ve ever met.”
This made him laugh aloud. “I’m sure it’s a close race with the prince.”
“You seem rather obsessed with Magnus. Perhaps next time I should try to arrange a meeting between the two of you instead.”
“You’re already thinking ahead to the next time we meet. I like that.”
Color rushed into her cheeks. “Don’t be so self-assured, rebel.”
He tried to repress his grin. “I’ve told you what I need from you. Now tell me what your plan is, princess.”
“My plan?” She touched her chest. “Why do you think I even have one? Perhaps I’m simply grateful to still be alive.”
Jonas knew that if she didn’t feel there was still a chance to reclaim her throne, she would have escaped long ago. With Jonas, with her friend Nic, with someone who could help her escape the Damoras forever.
“You won’t be alive for long if you continue to stay in the midst of your enemies,” Jonas said. “Do you think I’m wrong?”
Cleo looked unflinchingly into his eyes. “No, you’re not wrong.”
She trusted about as easily as he did. He’d managed to gain a lot of that trust, but there was still some ground to rebuild between them after so long without contact.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked.
“You would help me?”
“I have no personal interest in Auranos, but I don’t want the King of Blood to hold it under his thumb a day longer than he has to. More land gives him more power. If I can’t do it myself, I’ll help anyone who has the means to destroy him. Could that person be you?”
She gave him that look that was half distrustful, half endlessly hopeful. “It could be.”
“Then consider me at your service, your highness.” They didn’t have much more time. He’d already stayed too long and Felix would be wondering where he was. “You can send word to me through Nerissa.”
Cleo’s brow shot up. “The seamstress from Hawk’s Brow?”
He nodded. “She’s working at the palace as a servant. If you hear any information, no matter how minor it might seem to you, get a message to Nerissa and she’ll deliver it to me.”
“You’re still aligned with her? And you trust her?”
He nodded. “She’s proven herself, time and time again.”
Her gaze grew more scrutinizing. “Yes, I’m sure she has.”
What was that he saw in her eyes? Mistrust? Or jealousy? Certainly not the latter, although the thought was intriguing.
Cleo’s serious expression then gave way to a smile so bright and beautiful it could stop the cruelest killer in his tracks. “Once my enemy, Jonas Agallon now wishes to be my shining hero. How times can change.”
Not so long ago, he’d despised Cleo, who had stood by Lord Aron while his brother bled to death. He’d blamed her every bit as much as the coward who’d held the blade.
But as far as she’d fallen, as much as she’d had to endure, she was still a pampered princess who had no idea what a life such as Jonas’s had been like.
And he had no desire to be anyone’s personal hero.
Cleo could potentially help him, and he her. That was all that would ever be between them.