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Lady Sophia’s villa. A place that would forever hold unavoidable memories for Magnus. And none of them had anything to do with Lady Sophia herself.

Magnus narrowed his eyes as he watched Kurtis place his gloved hand upon Cleo’s shoulder and whisper something in her ear. A small fleet of guards that Magnus had appointed—more to protect Cleo from Kurtis than from any outside threats—stood rigidly a few paces beyond them.

o;That’s why we want your help.”

Felix snorted.

“I heard what you said to the princess this morning. I was listening in on you.”

“I knew you were a pervert.”

“Shut up and listen to me. Princess Amara mentioned the Kindred—that your king has access to one. That their powers are real. If all of that is true, then we need to get that crystal from the king.”

Felix nearly laughed. “Oh, is that all? Then you should ask the king for it. I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out.”

Without warning, Taran smashed his fist into Felix’s face.

Swearing, Felix clamped his hand down over his nose, which was gushing blood. “You broke it. Congratulations. You’ve just given me my sixth broken nose, and now I’m going to kill you.”

“Try it. I dare you.” Taran pulled back his cloak to reveal the gleaming blade of a dagger. “Or instead, you could shut your mouth and take us seriously. Because we are very serious.”

“Apologies, Felix,” Mikah said, glaring at Taran. “My friend here is a bit of a . . . free spirit. Probably due to his Auranian heritage.”

Auranian? Felix knew there was a reason he’d taken an immediate dislike to Taran. “So you’re the leader of this revolution, are you, Mikah?”

“Here in the Jewel, yes. I’ve been at the palace for ten years preparing for this revolution, following in my father’s footsteps.”

“Ten years?”

Mikah nodded. “Our battle will be a long one, and it has taken us two generations to prepare. But we will fight to end the emperor’s rule and free our people from his cruelty and greed, no matter how long it takes.”

It certainly sounded like a worthy fight. Most definitely doomed, but worthy.

“You’re going to fail, and you’re all going to die,” Felix said. “You must know that, right?”

He was expecting Taran to attempt another strike, but instead the two revolutionaries only looked at him solemnly. “Perhaps,” Mikah said.

“So why go through with it?”

“Because if you don’t choose to fight against the wrong in the world, then you are the wrong in the world.”

This guy had devoted his entire life to this rebellion, and it hadn’t even begun yet. A rebellion Mikah knew they’d probably lose.

But he wanted to try anyway.

That sick, twisting slice of darkness that had stayed inside of Felix ever since he’d left Jonas and Lysandra and aligned with the King of Blood now grew tighter and darker within him. How could he be a rebel? He was nothing but a killer.

Before today, Felix hadn’t believed he had any real choice about that.

“I might have an idea that could help,” Felix finally said.

Mikah eyed him. “What is it?”

“I’m going to need to send a message to Prince Magnus Damora.”

“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.”

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