“I mean, rumor has it they’re gone without a trace. Some say that the king went mad and put them both—his heir and his heir’s wife—to death. Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Cleo was missing . . . possibly dead? It couldn’t be.
Had she been exposed as a spy? She’d sent him two messages, the second only a week ago. Could that be related to this?
Jonas had to know more. If this was true, and if she was still alive, he had to find her.
He lurched up from the table.
“Sit down,” Felix said.
His throat was tight and painful. “I have to go.”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“Someone just walked through the door and I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to talk to her.”
Jonas turned, peering past the edge of his hood to see Nerissa entering the tavern. She scanned it, deep relief crossing her face when she spotted him. She hurriedly approached their table as Galyn excused himself
“Thank the goddess you’re here,” she said, grasping Jonas’s hands.
His heart pounded. “I just heard about the princess . . . that she’s missing. Is it true?”
“May I speak with you in private?”
Jonas was about to protest, to say that anything that had to be said could be said in front of his friends, but he held his tongue. After all, there could be others listening.
“Go,” Lysandra said. “And make haste.”
He guided Nerissa out of the main tavern and toward the staircase leading to the inn.
“This is private enough.” She looked around nervously at the small alcove.
“Is it true about Princess Cleo?” Jonas demanded.
“She’s gone, Jonas. No one knows where.”
“And Prince Magnus.”
“Him too. It’s a mystery, but I know this much. Two guards were slain in the dungeon, including the captain of the guard. It happened while they were on duty . . . watching Cleo, whom the king imprisoned for treason.”
The world before Jonas’s eyes blurred and darkened. “And now she and the boy she was forced to marry are missing.”
“Yes.”
“And the king? What is his reaction to this?”
“I have no way of knowing. He’s in seclusion. But I have heard that he fears Prince Magnus may have been taken hostage, or murdered, by whoever helped the princess escape. And Jonas . . . well, you have been named as the main suspect.”
Any other day, he might have found this amusing. Here he was, accused of yet another crime he didn’t commit.
Nerissa’s face was pale, worried. “I can’t stay, Jonas. And I won’t be able to meet you again for some time. They’re looking at everyone in the palace with suspicion.”
“Thank you for sharing what you know. I know how dangerous this is for you.” His mind was in turmoil, unsure how to process this information. He’d once hated this royal girl beyond any other . . . yet now he found his world turned upside down at the thought that she’d been in grave danger—that she was still in grave danger—and he hadn’t been able to do a thing to help her.
Nerissa clutched his arm, drawing his attention back to the present. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”