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Andreas snorted. “Come on, then. I won’t hold back if you don’t.”
“Fair enough.”
As their wooden swords clashed, Magnus now paid very close attention to the swordplay, trying hard not to let his mind wander again.
Andreas’s lips thinned. “I heard that you ran Michol Trichas off when he showed interest in your sister.”
“Did you?” Magnus said with disinterest. “Are you offended on his behalf?”
“Just the opposite. He wasn’t right for her. He’s insipid and cowardly, hiding behind his mother’s skirts when any opposition presents itself. He’s not worthy of spending time with Princess Lucia.”
“We finally agree on something. How delightful.”
“However, you’ll find that I’m not quite so easily dissuaded as he was.” Their swords met and held, and Andreas’s gaze turned icy. Magnus’s muscles burned with the effort of taking the point and not allowing his rival to win. “You don’t intimidate me.”
“Not trying to.”
“You chase off all of Lucia’s suitors as if no one in Limeros is worthy of the princess’s precious time and attention.”
Magnus’s gaze snapped to Andreas’s. “No one is.”
“Apart from you, of course.” Andreas’s eyes narrowed. “I think the attention you lavish on your sister compared to any other girl is...unusual.”
Magnus went cold inside. “You’re imagining things.”
“Perhaps I am. But know this, Prince Magnus, when I want something, I get it. No matter what obstacle might present itself.”
Magnus glanced toward the castle. “It looks like I was wrong. Lucia is coming out to watch us after all.”
When Andreas’s attention moved away from Magnus, he struck. He knocked the wooden sword out of Andreas’s grip and then slammed the boy to the ground where he lay on his back looking up, temporarily stunned.
Magnus pressed the blunt tip of his practice sword to Andreas’s throat hard enough to bruise. “Actually, Lucia’s in her embroidery class right now and won’t be able to talk with you again until...well, I’m sure it’ll be quite some time. I’ll give her your regards.”
Lesson over, he threw his sword to the side and turned from the boy still sprawled on the ground to return to the castle.
Some victories didn’t taste quite as sweet as they should.
The idea that anyone, especially someone like Andreas, could guess that Magnus might have forbidden feelings for his younger sister had put a sick feeling into the pit of his stomach. He resolved to force himself to spend more time in the company of other girls to help stave off any future rumors.
And not girls like the one who approached him along the hallway with a smile stretching her rosy cheeks.
“My prince,” Amia greeted him cheerily.
He cast a look around to check if anyone was watching. Speaking openly with a servant—especially such a low-ranking one as Amia—was frowned upon by his father. To imagine King Gaius’s outraged reaction to his son doing more than talking with her was almost as humorous as it was foreboding.
“What is it?” he asked, his words clipped.
“You wanted me to keep an eye on your sister.”
With this, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her around a corner and into a shadowed alcove. “Speak.”
Amia twisted a piece of nut-brown hair around her finger. Her brows drew together. “It’s the strangest thing. I was sent with a tray of food up to her room for a late lunch when she returned from her class just now. Her door was ajar. I should have knocked, but since my hands were full, I didn’t. And I swear I saw...”
“What? What did you see?”
“Your sister stood before three candles and I watched as each was lit.”
Magnus stared at the girl. “That’s all? You watched my sister light some candles and you thought it worthy of mention to me? There’s nothing unusual about that.”
