“I have no idea what Elena may have shared with Corvin about her previous romances. I would assume that he did learn the truth eventually, if only so that he would be better able to protect Elena.”

“Protect her? What do you mean?”

Selia’s expression grew grave. “Elena became disinterested in Gaius once she returned home. I don’t know why. I suppose it had only been a passing fancy for her, a way to spend her summer, stringing along the affections of a smitten boy. Nothing more. When Gaius learned of her change of heart, he . . . took it poorly. I confess, I love my son dearly, but he has always had a vicious violent streak. He went to her, demanding his love to be returned, and when she refused him he beat her nearly to death.”

Another wave of nausea hit Cleo. Her poor mother, subject to the evil Gaius Damora at his very worst.

She’d never hated the king more.

“I only hope that my grandson isn’t overly cruel to you behind closed doors, my dear,” Selia said softly. “Powerful men, full of strength and anger . . . they are prone to violent outbursts. Wives and mothers can only hope to endure it.”

“Endure it? You can’t be serious! If Magnus ever raised a hand to me, I’d—”

“What? You barely come to his shoulder in height, and he must nearly be twice your weight. The best thing you can do in your position, Cleiona, is to be as pleasant and agreeable as possible at all times—as all women must.”

Cleo straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I didn’t have the great privilege of knowing my mother, but if she’s anything like me, anything like my sister, then I know she wouldn’t have been as pleasant and agreeable as possible in the face of abuse, not by anyone at any time. And neither would I! I’d kill anyone who attempted to beat me!”

A slow smile crept across Selia’s face. “My grandson has chosen to love a girl with both courage and strength, just as his father did. I was testing you, of course.”

“Testing me?”

“Look at me, dear. Do I look like a woman who would let a man raise a hand to her?”

“No,” Cleo answered honestly.

“Quite right. I’m very glad we had a chance to talk today, my dear. I know everything I need to know now.”

She reached out and gave Cleo’s hand a squeeze, then left the room.

That had been the most bizarre conversation of Cleo’s entire life.

“Perhaps I’ll make a visit to the tavern today myself,” she muttered. “Why should Magnus be the only one around here who gets to drink wine in a foolish attempt to escape his problems?”

As she stood, something caught her eye out the window at the back of the inn. She stepped closer. Olivia stood in the courtyard. Oddly, the girl wore nothing but a white sheet wrapped around her body, one that Cleo recognized from the innkeeper’s wife’s daily washing.

Whatever manner of attire, the sight of the girl came as a great relief. Cleo rose and went outside to join her, glancing around curiously.

“Olivia! Are Nic and Jonas with you? Where did the three of you go?”

Olivia’s expression held deep uncertainty. “I need to leave again immediately, but I wanted to return here first to see you.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“It’s time for me to go back to my home. Jonas’s path has successfully intersected with his destiny, and my time with him is at an end.”

“Apologies.” Cleo shook her head, utterly confused. “Jonas’s destiny? What in the world are you talking about?”

“It’s not my place to explain such things. All I know is that I can’t watch over him any longer, since I might be tempted to interfere.” She frowned. “This must sound ludicrous to you. I know you don’t know who I really am.”

“You mean that you’re a Watcher?”

Olivia’s gaze snapped to Cleo’s. “How do you know that?”

Cleo laughed uneasily at Olivia’s look of shock. “Jonas told me. He trusts me, and so should you. I promise to keep your rather incredible secret, but please . . . tell me what’s wrong. Are you upset only about leaving Jonas?”

“No, that’s not the only reason. I . . . I went with Nic and Jonas to the compound where the empress is residing.”

Cleo’s eyes went wide. “That’s where you were? Whose foolish plan was this?”

“Prince Magnus threatened Nic,” Olivia explained. “He threatened your life as well if Nic didn’t pursue Ashur and retrieve the Kindred orbs.”

Cleo frowned. “That can’t be right. Magnus wouldn’t do something like that.”

“I assure you, he did. Nic never would have left your side otherwise.” Olivia’s emerald-green eyes flashed with anger. “It’s the prince’s fault this happened. I lost Nic in the crowd during the assassination attempt on Amara. I saw him for only a moment as he fell under the blade. I . . . I believe it was over quickly.”

Cleo shook her head as her palms began to prickle with sweat. “What? I don’t understand. He fell under a blade? What blade? What do you mean?”

Olivia’s expression held only sorrow. “Nic is dead. He is one of many who were killed during the aftermath of a rebel assassination attempt. I must leave Mytica now, and I strongly urge you to do the same. You’re not safe here with someone like Magnus, who would send a boy like Nic off to his death. It’s not right, princess, none of this is. The world is spiraling out of control, and I fear that it may already be too late to save it. I’m so sorry I had to tell you this, but I thought you deserved to know.”