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“No, go ahead.”
After bidding them farewell, Sera grabbed a cloak and walked out of the cottage, leaving the three of them alone.
“I must admit, I’m surprised that you’re not more outraged at the suggestion that your beloved goddess Valoria from Limeros is a corrupted Watcher,” Eirene said.
Cleo and Nic exchanged a look.
“We have very open minds,” Nic replied. “Although it’s a surprise that she could be as evil as you say she was.”
“I never said she was evil. Nor was she good. Even in the darkest and most cruel person, there is still a kernel of good. And within the most perfect champion, there is also darkness. The question is, will one give in to the dark or the light? It’s something we decide with every choice we make, every day that we exist. What might not be evil to you could be evil to someone else. Knowing this makes us powerful even without magic.”
“Other Watchers leave the Sanctuary.” Cleo slid her index finger around the edge of her empty glass. “They can never return. But it’s happened.”
“So the rumors go.”
“Do they keep their magic? Could a Watcher who holds healing seeds infused with earth magic really exist?”
“You have such hope for this that I would hate to say no.” Eirene smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Cleo’s hand. “You must continue to believe with all your heart. Sometimes belief is all it takes to make something real.”
“I believe I would like to go to sleep very soon,” Nic said.
Her smile widened. “An excellent suggestion, young man.”
With the story and the meal over, Eirene prepared beds on the floor by the hearth for both Nic and Cleo. She snuffed out the candles, pulled the canvas covering across the window for privacy, and bid them good night.
Cleo settled down onto the thin straw mattress and stared up at the dark ceiling.
And though her thoughts first turned unbidden to Theon and what he might be doing, when she fell asleep, she dreamed of sorceresses and goddesses and magic seeds.
“I had to escape,” Sera said later at the tavern. With its dirt floors and dirty glasses, it wasn’t much and wasn’t large enough to accommodate more than a couple dozen, but it served its purpose. It was a place for the work weary to find a cheap drink and some company.
“Really. Why’s that?”
A smile played on the lips that half the boys in a ten-mile radius were well acquainted with. “My grandmother’s taken in a couple of strays for the night. Had to suffer through her stories again. Immediately thought of you when they were introduced to me. The girl’s name is Cleo—just like that hateful princess. I’ve never known anyone else with that name.”
Jonas stared with shock at the girl seated next to him at the small wooden table in a darkened corner of the tavern. He’d never heard of anyone else with that name either. “What did she look like?”
“Looked like a princess, if you ask me. Blue eyes. Fair hair. Around my age. Pretty thing, I suppose.” Sera twisted a piece of dark brown hair between her fingers.
“You said her name was Cleo.”
“That’s right.”
Blondes weren’t that common in Paelsia. They weren’t common anywhere, really, but there were still a few, more often from northern Limeros. Jonas remembered Cleo’s hair, bright as the sun, long and flowing down her slim body.
He’d dreamed of tearing that hair out a piece at a time while she begged for mercy.
Jonas cast a glance to the other side of the tavern to see Brion sitting by the warmth of the fire, his eyes already closing. They’d been busy for days scouting and had stopped for a nightcap before spending the night at his sister Felicia’s and her husband’s, a short distance outside of the village. Chief Basilius’s men were way ahead of them. All eligible men—and boys—on the west coast had been signed up to join the Paelsian army. In their travels, they’d found no sign of any troublemakers or spies. Unless this girl Sera, whom Jonas knew casually from his visits to Felicia and Paulo, spoke of was the Auranian princess herself.
“Maybe I’ll tell you more later.” Sera boldly scooted her chair closer so she could slide her hand down Jonas’s chest and over his abdomen. He grabbed her wrist and she flinched.
“Tell me now.”
“You’re hurting me.”
“No, I’m not. Don’t exaggerate.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked coyly at him, her feigned distress forgotten. “Maybe we should go somewhere a bit more private where we can discuss anything you like.”
