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“Not yet. I need you to hear what I have to say to you.”
Cleo sought to hold his gaze, trying to see past the anger and uncertainty in his eyes. Was there anything else there? The new mask he wore was marvelous, thicker and stronger than ever, covering every emotion but anger.
But every mask could be cracked.
“What do you need to say to me?” he finally prompted.
She took a deep breath and stood as tall as she could. “I did fall in love with someone. Someone whom many would say was completely wrong for me. But I didn’t care.”
He now studied her for a long, heavy moment. “Did you, princess? And who was that?”
Boldly, she placed her hand over his heart to feel its swift pace.
He looked down at it, his brows drawing together as he met her eyes.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked, her voice now soft.
He was silent so long that she wasn’t sure he’d ever speak again. Then, finally he nodded once. “Yes.”
He watched her with a darkening gaze as she bit her bottom lip. She’d seen that darkness in his eyes before, and she knew it didn’t come from anger.
“Princess,” he urged. “Tell me.”
She met his eyes directly. “His name was Theon Ranus,” she said. “And you murdered him.”
Magnus pulled away from her, the growing tenderness in his expression slamming shut like an iron door.
“Sometimes I forget about that day.” She tried to ignore the pain in her heart as she spoke. “But something always ends up reminding me. Good evening, Magnus.”
Cleo left the temple and didn’t look back.
• • •
There was a message waiting for Cleo when she returned to her chambers.
Meet me in my room.—Nerissa
Cleo rushed to the servants’ wing and knocked on Nerissa’s door.
“Good, you’re here,” Nerissa said, opening the door immediately and grabbing Cleo’s wrist to pull her inside. She peeked out the door, glanced up and down the hallway, then turned around to grin at the princess. “I’ll leave you two alone to talk. But please, don’t be long.”
“Nerissa, what are you—?”
But before Cleo could finish her sentence Nerissa slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
“Well, your highness. After a small eternity it seems we’re finally alone again.”
Cleo spun on her heels, eyes wide, and found herself face-to-face with Jonas. The rebel was no longer wearing his ridiculous eye patch today, which was a relief—especially since, when she’d first seen him, she’d thought he’d had a horrible accident. Or that Magnus had done it to him.
Cleo met Jonas’s greeting with stunned silence, and then his pleased expression turned tentative. “I’m sorry for the manner in which I arrived. It was not my intention to implicate you . . . for that I want to kick myself. Trust me, Lys has promised to throttle me at her earliest opportunity for nearly getting us all killed. I was stupid and irresponsible, but I assure you that I—”
Cleo ran across the room and threw herself into his arms. “I was so worried about you!”
“Oh.” He stiffened, then gave a little laugh and pulled her closer. “And here I was expecting a painful slap. I like this much better.”
“Why did you come here? You must have known how much danger you’d be putting yourself in.”
“Why?” He brushed her hair back from her face. “To save you, of course. And to kill the prince. In that order.”
