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“What? The King of Blood’s little heir?” Taran spat out, eyeing Felix with both disgust and wariness, as if to question his sanity.
“Yup. The same little heir who’s rumored to have killed a palace guard in order to rescue an enemy of his father. And now, in King Gaius’s absence, he has has taken over the throne in Limeros.”
“Rumors aren’t facts,” Taran scoffed.
“No. But, apologies, they’re still about a thousand times more potentially useful to your revolution than anything you’ve told me today.”
Mikah studied him, his brow furrowed in thought. “If these rumors do prove true, it sounds as if Prince Magnus might be staging a rebellion of his own.”
“I’m sure it’s more complicated than that. But if father and son are currently at odds, the prince will want to know the king’s plans—including that the king now has a shiny Kindred in his possession—and he could possibly become an ally.”
“Possibly,” Taran repeated. “But not definitely. That doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me. In fact, it sounds outright reckless.”
“It would be a risk, sure. But I’m the one putting my neck on the line.”
“Why would you do this?” Mikah asked, his tone thick with suspicion. “Why would you help us? Just a moment ago you were threatening to kill us.”
“Hey, you came to me for help, remember? Help you wanted so bad I now have a broken nose to show for it. And you’re complaining that I’m willing to give that help to you?”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Tell me why you’ve changed your mind.”
Felix went silent for a moment as he sorted through his jumbled thoughts. “Perhaps I’ve finally chosen once and for all to fight for the right things.” He absently scratched his arm. His clan tattoo had started to itch, as if to protest his decision.
Mikah grinned. “Welcome to the revolution, Felix.”
“Happy to be here.”
Taran’s expression remained rigid, his eyes narrowing on Felix.
“You’re still officially with the Clan of the Cobra,” Taran said. “Mikah here might believe you when you say your loyalties have shifted, but how would you convince someone like the prince?”
Now, that was an excellent question. What could he possibly write in that message, sent from his current station as the king’s bodyguard, that might gain the prince’s trust?
Felix scratched his itch again, then pulled up his sleeve to look down at his snake tattoo. The physical evidence of his oath to the Clan and to the King of Blood, etched into his very skin.
“I think I know a way,” he said.
CHAPTER 20
MAGNUS
LIMEROS
The princess wore blue.
The princess always wore blue.
Magnus leaned against a palace wall, watching Cleo and Lord Kurtis as they began her archery lesson for the day. It was the first time he’d gone out to watch her practice, but after Nic and all of Cleo’s little rebel friends vanished from the palace in the dead of night without permission—allegedly to buy a gift for the princess in celebration of her seventeenth birthday—he’d decided to keep a closer eye on the deceitful princess.
His fury at learning that his new “allies” had disappeared with all of the information he’d revealed to them had since calmed into a seething, but controllable anger. The princess had not accompanied them. If she had, he would be scouring the land for all of them and would show no mercy when they were found.
Nic, he knew, would return. He would never abandon his precious princess so easily.
And, so, Magnus waited.
Since then, he’d grown much more curious about Cleo and her progress with a bow and arrow.
She wore a cloak of robin’s-egg blue, which she’d purchased in Ravencrest a few days ago. She’d taken Nerissa with her, and after a day of shopping, they’d stopped in at Lady Sophia’s villa.
