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The sport of archery had seemed so easy from the sidelines, where she’d watched her sister compete. Now, looking down at her fingers, blistered and bleeding from daily practices, she realized how wrong her assumption had been. Every day it was the same: drawing back the bowstring, aiming, letting the arrow free. Over and over. And then failing each time, again and again.
She was further embarrassed by the fact that there were several guards posted near the archery field to witness her lack of progress, including Enzo, the friendly guard she made sure to say good morning to every day.
“Very good,” Kurtis said, trying to cheer her up. “You’re getting much better.”
She tried not to laugh. “You lie.”
“Not at all. You don’t see your progress, but I do. Your aim has become excellent and your strength is improving with each session. To master a skill like this takes extreme quantities of both patience and time.”
Why must everything important take so much patience and time when she had none of either left?
When she’d first met Lysandra Barbas, Cleo had been impressed by the rebel girl who had been so easily able to keep up with boys like Jonas, who could wield a bow and arrow as if she’d been born with them already in her grip. Although she’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to the belligerent Lysandra herself, Cleo had come to admire her deeply.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she said, putting down her bow and tucking her hands into the folds of her pale blue, fur-lined cloak.
“Very well.” Kurtis ordered a guard to pick up their equipment and they began to walk slowly toward the entrance to the palace. “Your grace, may I speak frankly with you?”
“About?”
“Prince Magnus.”
She glanced at him with surprise. “What about him?”
He hesitated. “Forgive me if I’ve misinterpreted, but I feel that you and I have become friends.”
“You haven’t misinterpreted at all.” Cleo could use as many friends as she could get. “Please, feel free to say whatever’s on your mind.”
“Thank you, your grace. The fact of the matter is . . . I’m a bit concerned for your husband. During the council meetings over which he’s presided, I can’t help but notice how so obviously doubtful the prince is about his abilities to lead. I fear it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the council catches on and begins to believe him inept. If the council finds him unfit to rule in his father’s place, they have the power to remove him from command.”
“All new leaders make mistakes at first,” Cleo said after a thoughtful pause. “And, as a matter of fact, I must disagree with you. When I sat in on the meeting he seemed both confident and capable.”
Did I just say that aloud? she thought with dismay.
She knew how much Magnus disliked delivering public speeches, so she really had been surprised at the seemingly effortless way he took command of the council meeting. When he spoke, it was as if everyone else faded from her view.
“I’ve known the prince a great deal longer than you have,” Kurtis replied without hesitation. “He’s never shown any signs of leadership, nor any interest in learning more about what makes a great leader. Yet he suddenly shows up here out of the blue, demanding control and sowing frustration.”
Cleo wasn’t sure she liked the direction of this conversation but still wanted to see where Kurtis was trying to lead it. “He is heir to the throne.”
“He is,” Kurtis acknowledged. “As were you to the Auranian throne, if not for Magnus’s father. I’m no fool. I know this marriage wasn’t one you made of your own free will. Forgive me if this seems quite harsh, but it’s almost as if you’re less of a wife and more of a prisoner of war. Knowing what a bully he was when we were children, I greatly sympathize with your position.”
He was far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. “I’m not sure how to reply to that, Kurtis.”
“You don’t have to say a thing. But, know this: In my heart, I know that Magnus is not meant for that throne. It belongs to someone else. Someone who has earned it, and who is much more worthy.”
She found she couldn’t breathe. Was Kurtis offering his allegiance to her?
“Kurtis . . .”
“That throne is mine,” he continued. “With both the king and my father in Auranos, I should be the one in power here.”
She grappled to conceal her shock. “It’s unfortunate, then, that the prince of Limeros disagrees with you.”
“You should know that the prince has succeeded in making far more enemies than friends since his arrival,” Kurtis said, his voice hushed as they drew closer to the palace. “I’ve become concerned about his safety.”
“You believe his life’s at risk?”
“I pray to the goddess it isn’t, of course.” He paused, his lips thinning out to nearly a grimace. “But what I know for sure is that very few in Limeros would mourn either his or his father’s death.”
