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“Who are you?” she growled.

He seemed amused, as if a kitten had just shown him sharp claws. “Someone who is trying to help your father with a difficult situation.”

“Cleo, forgive Lord Larides’s rudeness; he—like all of us—is under a great deal of stress right now. But don’t worry, they won’t breach the entrance of the castle. Even if they get through the palace walls, you’re safe here, Cleo. I swear it. Go to your friends. To your sister. Let me handle this.”

She recognized the name—and now she recognized the man himself. He’d grown his beard longer since last she’d seen him. He was the father of Lord Darius, her sister’s former fiancé. His family was in the king’s trusted circle.

All these men saw when they looked at her was a little girl who’d run away on a whim to search for magic seeds. Who caused trouble. Who was utterly useless in every way except looking pretty. Maybe she was. And if that was true, then being here was only causing more problems for her father. Finally Cleo nodded and turned away. Her father caught her wrist and then kissed her quickly on the forehead.

“It will be all right,” he said firmly, pulling her out of earshot of his council members. “I know it’s been difficult, but we will survive this. No matter what happens. Be strong for me, Cleo. Do you promise me to do that?”

He looked so worried that all she could do was nod in agreement. The gesture seemed to help clear some of the darkness from his eyes.

“I promise.”

“Whatever happens, remember that Auranos has been a powerful place of beauty and prosperity for a thousand years. It will continue to be so. No matter what happens.”

“What will happen?” she asked quietly.

His expression remained tense. “When this is all over, things are going to change. I see now that I’ve been blind to troubles just outside my own kingdom’s borders. If I’d paid more attention, this never would have happened. I won’t repeat my past mistakes. Auranos will continue to be a strong and dominant force, but we will be kinder and more benevolent to our neighbors going forward.”

His words didn’t do much to assure her that all would be well. “Will the fighting start soon?”

He squeezed her hands.

“It’s already begun.”

While he waited for the order to attack, Jonas stood shoulder to shoulder with the men who were about to become his battle brothers, Limerian and Paelsian alike. The sun beat down upon them. Sweat poured over his forehead and into his eyes, making them sting.

He’d believed the Auranian king would surrender without a fight. As he’d waited out the three long days that stretched between their arrival and this moment, as the rations quickly ran out for all but the most privileged, forcing them to individually pillage the forest for food, as the sun burned down upon them with little shelter for the common soldier apart from the thick line of forest two miles from the palace walls, he’d believed this would end without bloodshed. That King Corvin would be swayed by the legion of Limerian and Paelsian soldiers waiting for their call to battle.

But this was not to be. Blood would spill.

The troops gathered in formation on King Gaius’s orders and began the trek toward the walls. There was a river to cross, bisecting the green and grassy land of rolling hills and valleys. Beyond that the walled palace came into view—a spectacular golden sight that made Jonas’s breath catch in his chest.

As did King Corvin’s massive awaiting army, fully outfitted in sleek shining armor, burnished helmets atop their heads. The Auranian crest glinted golden on their shields.

They stayed like this for a full hour. Waiting. Watching. Jonas’s heart pounded hard in his chest, a heavy sword gripped so tightly in his hand that it began to form blisters on his already rough skin.

“I hate them. And I’d kill them all for a chance at a life like theirs,” he said under his breath to Brion, unable to keep his gaze away from the massive shining palace—so different from the modest cottages in Paelsia. And this land—so lush and green when his own was fading away and turning dry and brown. “They would take everything and let us suffer and die without even a thought.”

A muscle in Brion’s cheek twitched. “They deserve to suffer and die as well. Let grapes feed their nation.”

Jonas was ready to die today to help his people have the chance at a better life tomorrow. Nothing was ever easy. And all living things eventually died. If this was to be his day, then so be it.

King Gaius rode his sleek black stallion along the line of waiting soldiers, tall in his saddle, a look of sheer determination on his face. Prince Magnus rode nearby, his cool gaze moving across the waiting troops. The cavalry would lead the charge. War flags were held high bearing the colors of Limeros and the words Strength. Faith. Wisdom.

Sounded very proper and studious. That the flags were red was the only indication of King Gaius’s reputation as the King of Blood.

Chief Basilius and his flank of elite bodyguards were nowhere to be seen. Earlier, Jonas had walked through the city of tents set up on the other side of the forest. The chief had taken four tents to himself, needing the space for privacy, meditation, and rest to help summon his dormant magic to aid their efforts.

“The sorcerer will awaken,” the rumor among the troops went. “His magic will crush our enemy to dust.”

Chief Basilius would be their key to victory.

Jonas chose to believe this was true as well, despite his mounting doubts.

King Gaius addressed the troops. “Today is a day a thousand years in the making. A day when we take what has been kept just out of our reach. Out of your reach. What you see across this kingdom is yours for the taking—every one of you. No one can hold you down unless you refuse to get back up. Take this strength that I know you have—take it and help me crush those who would oppose us.”

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