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“I can tell you’re confused. Talk to me about this, Nic—about him. I’m here for you. I mean it.”
His nose had already gone red from the cold, and his freckles stood out sharply on his pale face. “All I know is I’ve never felt that way, ever, for . . .” His jaw tightened. “I don’t know, Cleo. I can’t explain it, not even to myself. I’ve liked girls all my life, and I know I haven’t only been fooling myself. Girls are pretty and soft and . . . amazing. What I felt for you, especially for you . . . that wasn’t fake or a lie I told myself. It was real. But with the prince . . . I don’t know what to think. It’s not as if I’ve undergone some massive change and now want to kiss every boy that crosses my path.”
“But you liked him. Perhaps more than liked him.”
He rubbed his hand through his short red hair. “I barely knew him, Cleo. But . . . what I’d begun to feel, it . . . it didn’t feel wrong.”
Cleo nodded. “I completely understand. What our hearts want can overtake what our minds tell us is forbidden to us. We can’t control these feelings, even if we desperately wish we could.”
He began to eye her with suspicion. “You understand, do you? Why? Is your heart currently confused as well? Are we even out here to talk about me? Or are we talking about you?”
Nic always saw her clearly—more than anyone else did. She would be wise to remember that now.
She closed her eyes to try to block out all of her confusion, but all she could see was the Theon from her nightmare, staring at her with pain and confusion.
“Why would you betray me like this?”
“Cleo, look at me,” Nic prompted.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
“Don’t,” he said sternly. “Just don’t.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do,” Nic said, then groaned. “Just remember one thing: Everything the prince has done lately, he’s done it for one person only—and it’s not you. It’s him. He is every bit as scheming and conniving and selfish as his father. You’re smarter than this, Cleo. I know you are. You have to see through to the motivations behind everything he does.”
His tone was free from accusation or disgust. Rather, he spoke with patience and understanding . . . and perhaps a little frustration.
“I’m not sure what to believe anymore, Nic.”
“I can see that.” He swept her hair back from her face and behind her shoulder. “I know you didn’t come to me today to talk about love, Cleo. You came to me because you know that, whenever things get a little blurry, I can always help you see reason again. Prince Magnus is your mortal enemy, not a dark hero who will redeem himself for true love. And that’s never, ever going to change.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, but it held no humor. “You make me sound like a complete fool.”
“No, you’re no fool. You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever known.” He grinned. “And the best-looking one, by far. I know you’re going to do the right thing. But you have to remember who your enemy is. Remember why we came back to this palace—for more information about the Kindred. If we can get even one of them you’ll have your throne back.”
What was more important to her? Vengeance for her family’s death, the reclaiming of her stolen throne, ensuring a future for her people that was free of the King of Blood?
Or a prince, whom she knew she could never fully trust with her heart or her life?
It all seemed so clear again. Thank the goddess she’d had that dream about Theon to remind her of what she could never forget—and that she had Nic as her voice of reason.
“You’re absolutely right,” Cleo managed to say after a heavy silence. Finally, she led them toward the labyrinth’s exit. “Magnus is my enemy. I hate him for everything he’s taken from me—from both of us—and I always will.”
Nic let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Good to hear.”
They finally exited the maze, only to be greeted by a dry, humorless voice.
“Yes, that is good to hear, isn’t it? For all of us.”
Magnus leaned against the frozen labyrinth wall, as if he’d been waiting there for them to emerge. Cleo’s blood turned to ice at the sight of him.
“My, that must have been a fascinating conversation. I’m sorry I only caught the end of it. I wondered why you were looking so upset inside the palace, princess, so I took the liberty of following you and your best friend out here to learn why. After all, as your mortal, eternal enemy, I’m quite wary of your intentions.”
The thought that he’d only heard the end of their conversation and not any hints at her internal struggle about him was the only relief she could find.
“You’re not wearing a cloak,” she said when she’d finally found her voice. “You’ll freeze to death out here.”
