“Yes, of course. I–I need to clear my head.” Cleo swallowed hard and glanced at her ring. The swirling had stopped and the strange speck of molten gold was no longer visible within the stone.
Nic gave her a strained and concerned look as Magnus led her away and toward the labyrinth.
What would have happened if she’d been brave enough to keep her hand pressed against the wheel? Would she-a mere mortal-be able to journey to the Sanctuary? Would it offer her some glimpse as to where to find the Kindred?
If she didn’t find the answers, she would allow Auranos to continue to be held under the iron fist of King Gaius. And she’d be letting her father down. How she wished he was still alive to guide her now. Sometimes when she least expected it-like now-the bottomless emptiness of all she’d lost mercilessly pulled her downward.
“Is there something wrong?” Magnus asked. “You’re upset.”
Cleo wiped away a tear and didn’t bother looking directly at him. “Do you care?”
“I care that a sobbing princess doesn’t present a very good picture of a happy marriage.”
“I’m not sobbing.” She gave him a hard look. “Perhaps you’d prefer it if I were.”
“Such belligerence, princess. Whatever have I done to deserve this today?”
“You’re breathing.” The words were out before she could restrain them, and she bit into her lower lip. She decided to change the subject. “What is this place?”
“The Limerian palace grounds, of course.”
“No, I mean this place. This maze. Why’s it here?”
He glanced around. “Afraid of getting lost?”
“Can’t you just answer a simple question without being difficult?” Again, she bit her lip and studied the ground, fighting her constant frustration when it came to dealing with the prince.
Magnus let out a soft snort. “I don’t think you’re capable of asking simple questions. But all right. I’ll play along. This was a present for my sister six years ago. Lord Psellos wanted to garner favor for his son and an eventual betrothal, so he had this constructed as a birthday present.” His lips curved at the memory, the smile helping to soften his sharp features. “Lucia loved this maze. She’d challenge others to race through it. Often, she’d have to go back in to retrieve someone who’d become hopelessly lost. Usually it was me.”
The swift change in Magnus’s mood as he spoke of Lucia was surprising. Cleo recalled the sordid gossip Dora and Helena had shared with her about Magnus and Lucia. “You love your sister.”
His jaw tightened and he didn’t reply for a moment. “You think me incapable of such an emotion?”
“Again, that’s not really an answer, is it?”
“Perhaps it’s a question that doesn’t deserve one.”
She glared at him. “For a moment I thought. .”
“What, princess?” He eyed her. “That you’d found more evidence of that heart you continue to question?”
As if such a discovery were even possible. “I would never make that mistake. After all, you are your father’s son.”
“Yes. And you must never forget it.” His jaw tensed. “It’s nearly time for my speech. There are certain expectations of being the son of King Gaius. Making speeches is one of them. If nothing else, it brings this tour to an end. I’ve been receiving updates and understand that Lord Aron has thus far failed to capture the rebel leader. I will join the search the moment I return to Auranos.”
That Jonas was still free was a great relief. Cleo crossed her arms, trying to block out the chill by pulling her fox fur cloak tighter against her throat. For a moment, she grappled for what to say next. She didn’t wish to discuss Jonas or the rebels. Such dangerous topics could lead her onto treacherous ground. It was best to focus on today. On Magnus’s upcoming duties as heir to the king’s stolen crown. “Your father excels at speechmaking.”
“He does indeed.”
Cleo frowned at him as she realized something very important. “Wait. You’re stalling, aren’t you?”
“Stalling?”
“You brought me for this tour of the maze not to help clear my head, but to delay your speech. It’s officially your first one, isn’t it? You’re nervous about it.”
Magnus stared at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He said one thing yet acted another way. But she could suddenly see him clearly-clearer than ever before. “King Gaius adores the sound of his own voice. But you. . you’re different.” And here she’d believed father and son were alike in every way.
“I don’t need to listen to this nonsense.”
His steps picked up speed as he continued through the maze. Cleo was now completely lost. She had to keep pace with him or he might leave her behind to freeze to death. She pulled at her crimson skirts to keep them from dragging on the ground and getting damp from the frost.
“Public speaking should come naturally to you, given your heritage.”
He gave her a dark look over his shoulder. “Spare your breath, princess. I don’t need any words of encouragement from you.”
Annoyance flared within her, chasing away her bemusement. “Good. Because I don’t really care. I hope you make a fool of yourself. I hope they laugh at you. It would serve you right.”
The wounded look this statement received surprised her.
Cleo found it difficult to believe this horrible boy could possibly lack confidence at something so expected of royalty. Magnus effortlessly managed to intimidate everyone who crossed his path-his very presence, his height, his strength, his position and title, the harsh tone of his voice; they all ensured that anyone with less power cowered before him.
Had she managed to find a weakness?
There was an opening in the snow-encrusted hedge up ahead. They’d reached the end of the maze. Cleo let out a sigh of relief as she ran her thumb over the surface of her ring. As if to mirror her nervous gesture, Magnus ran his fingers over his scar. She’d noticed it was something he did regularly, if unconsciously.
“That happened when your family visited my father ten years ago. I remember.” Her curiosity got the better of her. She had to ask. “I assume it was an assault by a stranger, not an accident.”
The look he turned on her held nothing pleasant in it. “Neither an assault by a stranger or an accident. It was a punishment, handed forth from my father himself to forever remind me of my crime.”
Her eyes widened. His own father cut him so horribly? “What crime did you commit as a child to warrant such a punishment?”
His hand dropped to his side, his expression equal parts hard-edged and wistful. “For once in my life, I wanted to possess something beautiful, even if it meant I had to steal it. Clearly, I learned my lesson.”
Stunned, Cleo watched him rejoin the gathered crowd. Many lords and other important men waited to clasp his hand in friendship. His confusing words repeated in Cleo’s mind as their wives gathered around her, welcoming her to Limeros and congratulating her on her marriage to the prince.
They were then led back toward the castle, with the swelling crowd gathered in the palace square awaiting Magnus’s speech, cheering the very sight of the two royals. A cloaked figure parted from the crowd and began to swiftly move toward Cleo and Magnus’s entourage. He was so subtle that no one paid him any attention until he was only ten paces away, at which point he pulled a dagger from beneath his cloak and lurched forward.
Magnus lunged and thrust his arm out, catching Cleo across her chest as he shoved her back. She fell hard to the ground. The man arched the dagger toward Magnus, catching him in the arm before the prince deflected the blow and slammed his fist into the man’s stomach.
The rest of the guards restrained the man, quickly disarming him. Nic was at Cleo’s side then, helping her back to her feet. She stared at Magnus, now holding his injured arm, a look of rage on his face as he glared at his attacker.