dra scrunched up her nose. “She’s a royal. That’ll never change.”
“And she’s married,” Felix added.
“Thanks for the reminder.” Jonas thought back to the note he’d received from the princess. He felt it was time to share its contents.
“Do either of you believe in legends?” Jonas asked after a silence had fallen between them.
“What kinds of legends?” Felix signaled to the barkeep for another round of drinks. Lysandra peered into her wine glass, finally taking a tentative sip.
“Of magic—the magic that is said to have history here in Mytica,” Jonas said. “And . . . of Watchers. And the Kindred.”
Lysandra drew in a shaky breath. “What about Watchers?”
“That they really exist.” Lysandra trembled at his response and, alarmed, Jonas reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She took a long sip of wine. “I didn’t say anything to you about this before, because I’ve tried to block it all out. But Gregor claimed that a Watcher used to visit him in his dreams—it’s why the king kept him alive so long. So he could question him. The king believed his story; I saw it in his eyes. He believes in magic, and he’s greedy for it. When Gregor couldn’t give him the answers he wanted to hear, the king had him killed.”
Jonas stared at her, shocked. The king was after magic—just as Cleo had informed him.
Felix watched them both in silence.
“When Phaedra stopped visiting his dreams, it broke his heart,” Lysandra whispered.
Hearing that name felt like a hand gripping Jonas’s throat.
“At the time,” Lysandra continued, “I thought he’d gone mad, but maybe it was true. Maybe she was real.”
“Did you say . . . Phaedra?” Jonas asked.
“Yes. Why?”
Phaedra. The name of the Watcher who had healed Jonas at the brink of death. “This is impossible.”
Felix leaned back in his chair and pushed his hands through his short dark hair. “Wow. We definitely need more drinks. Barkeep! More drinks for my friend here, please. He needs one very badly.”
Bruno hobbled over, his permanent smile still plastered to his face. However, instead of drinks, he held just a folded piece of paper sealed with wax. “I almost forgot all about this! Your lovely lady friend Nerissa delivered this message a few days ago. She worried you wouldn’t be back for weeks! Oh, she’ll be so pleased you were here to receive it. She said it’s quite urgent. What wonderful timing you have.”
Lysandra watched the man warily as he slapped the message down on the table and then wandered away without another word. “He’s delightful, isn’t he?”
“Very,” Felix agreed. “But look here. Another message, with the same seal as the last one. A perfumed love letter from the princess, you think?”
Glancing at Lysandra, Jonas picked up the message.
“Open it,” she urged.
He nodded, then broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
“What is it?” Felix asked. “What does it say?”
Jonas’s eyes lit up with every word he read. “It’s a request.”
“A request from her royal highness,” Lysandra said, and, for the first time when speaking of Cleo, her voice held no palpable animosity. “And are you planning to grant her request?”
There was a time he would have thrown the note away and laughed about such a ridiculous appeal.
He wasn’t laughing now.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “All three of us are. At first light tomorrow, we’re setting out to do exactly what her royal highness wants.”