“You look very pale.”
“That’s how I always look.”
“You look fine to me, otherwise,” Ashur said, raising an eyebrow. “Happily, bruises fade and I’m sure you’ll be good as new before too long.”
Nic shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know you’re already well acquainted with my brother,” Amara said.
Nic wasn’t sure how he should respond to her statement. “We’ve spoken before.”
She studied him with open interest. “Ashur believes your relationship with Princess Cleiona makes you quite valuable.”
“Oh?”
“She sent you here today to speak with us, didn’t she?”
He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
“It’s an educated guess. Please correct me if I’m mistaken. There’s no other reason for you to venture all this way, is there?”
He cleared his throat and sipped some peach juice to compose himself. “If that’s what you believe, what reason would she have for sending me?”
“So you can assess whether we’re friend or foe,” Amara said simply. “And she chose you because she trusts no one else.”
Nic glanced at Ashur.
The prince’s lips quirked up at Nic’s stunned expression. “My sister’s educated guesses are legendary in Kraeshia. She’s almost always right.”
“The princess should know that we are worthy of her trust,” Amara continued, as if she hadn’t just directly stated what Nic had been trying to be extremely delicate about. “We are happy to offer our friendship to Cleo, but she needs to be willing to help us in return.”
Nic drained the rest of his drink in a single gulp. No reason to deny anything. Now he had to gather as much information as he could. “What do you want?”
“What we want,” Ashur said, “is the Kindred. My father has finally accepted there might be a treasure here worth claiming for Kraeshia. But he’s a man of brute force rather than delicate finesse. Many will die if he and his armada come here to challenge King Gaius. I’d rather prevent all of that, if possible.”
From Ashur’s description, Emperor Cortas was every bit as fearsome as his public reputation, and every bit as ruthless as King Gaius. A shiver shot down Nic’s spine. “You think Cleo knows how to find the Kindred?”
“Yes,” Amara said, smiling.
Nic fell silent, eyeing the two with doubt and suspicion. They were too eager to state their intentions, too ready to align. Was all of this just part of the simple Kraeshian candidness, or should Nic be heeding this as a warning?
His first priority was to protect Cleo. He couldn’t tell them everything they wanted to know. Not until he trusted them completely.
And he was far from that point.
Ashur laughed. “I think we’ve scared him. Too much too soon, perhaps.”
Amara slid her hand over her shiny black hair, patting a few loose strands back into place. “And here I thought you had him wrapped around your little finger. Has your infamous charm finally failed you, brother?”
Nic felt what color he had left drain from his face.
“Don’t be upset. You’re certainly not the first creature to be caught in my brother’s pretty net.” Amara leaned forward and patted Nic on his knee. “My goodness, you look like you’re ready to throw yourself off the nearest cliff.”
Wrapped around his little finger? Pretty net? What exactly did Amara think she knew?
Nic was not wrapped around anyone’s little finger. Except Cleo’s, perhaps, and that was entirely his choice. Cleo was family—the only family he had left. Ashur was nobody to Nic except a potential threat who already knew far too much.
Amara voice took on a gentle tone. “Tell Cleo that we’re willing to share the treasure with her. We’ll take two crystals, and she can keep the other two. Once all is said and done, my father will invade and claim Paelsia and Limeros for Kraeshia. Auranos will remain under Cleo’s control. There will be no reason for further bloodshed if she complies with the emperor’s wishes.”