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“I assumed as much. Otherwise, I’d be dead and buried by now, wouldn’t I?”
“You think I want you dead? Even now?”
Magnus sighed. “You really do need to make up your mind on that subject, princess. Your duplicity is dizzying.”
“Fine. Yes. I kept the Kindred from you. I did—and do—plan to use its magic to get my kingdom back. There. That’s the truth. I’m finished with lies—what good have they done me? So now that you know, why don’t you throw me in the dungeon? Demand my head?”
“You love to try my patience,” he gritted out.
“You won’t have me killed for this. Because, despite all of our differences, we are aligned. And maybe it’s time we started to trust each other.”
The more she spoke, the more she realized she was actually telling the truth. Magnus wasn’t evil like his father. He never had been. She’d heard him try to reason with the council. She’d seen how much he cared about this kingdom. And she was certain that he would never try to harm her, no matter what she said or did. All of this, this cold, seemingly impenetrable façade, was just that: a thin shell protecting the genuine soul that lay beneath.
“How curious that you’ve come to this monumental realization only after I found the orb.”
But he truly was infuriating sometimes.
“Kurtis came to see me earlier,” Magnus said, before Cleo could reply. “Do you know why?”
“To tell you I’ve quit archery?”
“No, but it’s adorable that you think I’d care about something so trivial. Kurtis came to me because he wanted me to know he’d been discussing politics with you. He told me about all the issues you and he seem to agree upon, my being unfit to rule Limeros being one of them.”
Cleo waved her hand dismissively. “He greatly exaggerates.”
“Does he? Or is this another little partnership you’ve hidden from me?”
“Can’t you see that I’m here today trying to right the wrongs between us, Magnus?” she said, her patience wearing thin and brittle. “But you refuse to let me.”
“If I told you about the things Kurtis has done in the past, you wouldn’t want to go anywhere near him.”
If Magnus refused to play nice, neither would she. “I suppose that’s something you two have in common, then.”
Magnus furrowed his brow, as if confused. “When we were children, Kurtis used to enjoy murdering animals, watching them suffer.”
The thought of having spent so much time with a deranged young man sickened her. But Magnus couldn’t possibly be telling her the truth. She decided to send a jab right back at him. “And you, on the other hand, enjoy murdering people I love. Which pastime is worse?”
Magnus glared at her with sudden fury. “You pretend to know me? You spit out venom like that moments after trying to gain my confidence, and all it shows is that you don’t know me at all. You want this orb so badly, do you? Perhaps we can split it.”
He turned, a look of rage still fixed on his face, and threw the earth Kindred against the stone wall. All went silent as he looked down at his empty hand in shock.
A moment later, the ground began to rumble beneath their feet.
“No,” he whispered.
Cleo’s heart leapt into her throat. Her memory shot back to their wedding day, and the elemental earthquake that had destroyed the Temple of Cleiona, killing so many.
Frozen with fear, she watched as a gaping crack snaked across the floor, creating a deep rift in the stone that separated her and Magnus, then traveling up to the spot on the wall where the orb had made contact.
Then, as suddenly as the quake had started, the earth ceased shaking.
Cleo covered her mouth as relief flowed over and through her.
Magnus darted toward the orb and picked it up, inspecting it closely. “It’s not damaged at all.”
Cleo drew closer to see for herself. He was right; though the room was now in chaotic disrepair, the Kindred itself had remained fully intact. The thread of magic within it now spun faster, more frantically, than she’d seen it before.
“I think you made it mad,” she said, breathlessly.
