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“I agree with Agallon that my father has done nothing to earn a reputation as a peaceful ruler . . . but I don’t believe that he would just stand by and let Amara have her way with Mytica. Perhaps he agreed to this under duress. Perhaps he has another plan, and he’ll come straight to us with it when he arrives.”
“No, Magnus. I’m sorry, but I think Jonas is right. The king is thinking only of himself, he’s driven by nothing but his own greed. You and I know how dangerous Amara can be, but he probably he sees her as nothing more than a weak, young girl he can manipulate and control.”
“A weak, young girl who apparently murdered her family in cold blood to take all the power for her own. We watched her kill Prince Ashur right in front of us, we should have known something like this would happen next. I wonder how long she’s planned this.”
Cleo wrung her hands. “What are we going to do?”
He began pacing back and forth alongside the table. “Cronus was always the expert on defensive strategy,” he said. A mournful tone entered his voice as he mentioned the name of the captain of the guard who’d stood watch over Cleo as she awaited execution in the dungeon.
“How unfortunate, then, that you killed him,” Cleo said unpleasantly.
“Yes, it is unfortunate. That was a mistake I’ve come to regret more and more with each passing day.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “Do you mean to tell me that you regret saving my life?”
“That one, foolish choice marks the moment that has destroyed my entire life. This”—he gestured at the note—“is final evidence of that.”
Even at his harshest, even when he was being unbearably hateful, at least Cleo had been able to hold on to the memory of that day when he’d chosen to save her life whenever she needed to convince herself Magnus wasn’t the monster his father had tried to create. No matter the motivations he claimed were driving him on that day—he was worried about Lucia, he was mad at his father, it had nothing to do with Cleo herself—the end result remained. He, alone, had saved her life. He, alone, had defied the king and acted out of kindness.
But if he really did regret it, then that hope, that belief in his good heart . . . all of it was erased.
A stormy mixture of anger and pain swirled within her. “How dare you say that to me!”
He rubbed his forehead and let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t you see? When it comes to you, I only make foolish decisions that put everyone and everything around me in danger. I can’t believe I’ve been too stupid to see that until now. If I’d been strong enough to let you die that day, none of this would be happening. What is wrong with me? Why would I choose to protect a liar and traitor who tries to destroy me at every turn?”
Her throat had tightened, but so had her fists. “Whether you hate me or not, it changes nothing. You believe me to be a worthless liar who’d be better off dead? Fine. But don’t waste my time crying about your decisions now. Amara is on her way here, and she will kill anyone that gets in the way of her claiming every piece of the Kindred.”
“Every piece. Perhaps you have the others hidden away somewhere, too. For all I know, you’ve conspired with Amara as well.”
“You won’t believe me, no matter what I say. Clearly there’s nothing I can do or say that will change your opinion of me.”
“You want everything, take all that you can get, but you give nothing back in return,” Magnus snarled through clenched teeth. “Leave me.”
Cleo shook her head. “But the king . . . Amara . . .”
Magnus moved toward her, a menacing look on his face, forcing her to back up until she found herself on the other side of the throne room doors.
“I will deal with the king and the princess when they arrive. If doing so means that I die, then it’s a death I’ve earned through my actions concerning you. If I never see you again, it will be too soon.”
With that, he slammed the doors shut between them.
CHAPTER 27
AMARA
THE SILVER SEA
It was the familiar line of a jaw that caught her eye. A swath of dark hair. The shape of his shoulders.
Ashur?
Amara’s heart lifted with happiness, but then immediately closed with dread.
This can’t be possible.
She followed the young man across the deck of the ship, turning a corner and heading toward the bow. Finally, she managed to catch his arm.
“Ash—” she started, but the name fell away as the boy turned around. It was Milo, looking down at her with surprise.
