He sought her mouth again, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Light, yes . . . much, much better than darkness. I adore light—it allows me to see you completely.”

“No, Magnus . . .” She pointed at the window. “It’s dawn. It’s tomorrow.”

His expression tightened and tensed, then he swore under his breath. “How long were we asleep?”

“From the looks of it, far too long. Lord Gareth’s castle is only a few miles from here, and if they’ve sent more guards out to search for me . . .” She turned a bleak look on him. “We need to get out of here.”

“You’re absolutely right. We’ll have to put this very important discussion about what I shall call you now on hold.”

“Yes, right after we discuss what to do about Amara and your father.”

“One thing at a time.” As soon as Cleo mentioned his father, his expression again grew strained. “We’ll go to Ravencrest, find a ship bound for Auranos. Put distance between us and the king. Lord Gareth couldn’t possibly agree with my father’s latest decision.”

“Knowing his sniveling, devious son, that’s debatable.”

“Excellent point.”

“But I do know people in Auranos,” Cleo said. “Nobles and diplomats still loyal to my father and to me. They could help us.”

“Me, begging for help from Auranian nobles?” He raised a brow. “Shall we argue about this later?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, later.”

When they were dressed, Magnus touched her arm. “I want you to have something.”

She turned to him and saw that he held the earth Kindred out to her. Her gaze snapped to his. “I was afraid to ask if you still had it.”

“This belongs to you.” He put it in her hand and closed her fingers over it. “I have no claim on it.” He nodded firmly before she could say anything in reply. “Let’s go.”

She slipped the orb into the pocket of her cloak as he pushed open the door. . . .

To reveal King Gaius, standing, waiting, on the stone step.

Cleo’s heart stopped in her chest.

“Good morning,” the king said. “What a lovely abandoned cottage. I learned about this place, so close to Lord Gareth’s residence, so I decided to bring some guards with me here to investigate. It struck me as a perfect place to take refuge during a cold, stormy night.”

Standing behind the king were four guards in Limerian uniforms.

“It’s been some time, Magnus,” King Gaius said. “Have you missed me? More importantly, are you ready to answer for the crimes you’ve committed?”

“That depends. Are you?”

“I have nothing to answer for.”

“The armed Kraeshians now flooding Limeros suggest otherwise.”

The king sighed. “Why must you make everything a battle between us?”

“Because everything is a battle between us.”

“I have given you endless chances to prove your worth to me, to show that you’re strong and smart and capable of being my heir. And every single time you’ve disappointed me. Your escape to this little cottage retreat is just the most recent disappointment.” An expression of pure harshness settled deep within the lines of the king’s face. “Guards.”

Three guards set upon Magnus, one on Cleo. Neither of them resisted as they were accompanied out of the cottage.

Cleo’s escort was Enzo, the kind guard who had become involved with Nerissa.

“I’m truly sorry for this, princess,” he said under his breath. “But I have my orders.”

“I understand.” She didn’t expect any help from him, and she wouldn’t debase herself enough to ask. Limerian guards were well-trained to do as the king commanded.

The snow-covered corpse of the Kraeshian guard whom Cleo had killed remained, could still be partially seen as they moved away from the cottage. Cleo eyed it as they passed by, trying to think, to find a way out of this. She had the earth Kindred, but it was useless to her if she couldn’t access its magic.

“Where are you taking us?” she asked. “Back to the castle?”

“Are you speaking to me, princess?” the king asked.

“No, I’m speaking to the birds in the trees.”

He sent her a smirk over his shoulder. “Just as charming as ever, I see. I have no idea how a girl as venomous as you succeeded in manipulating my son.”

“You don’t understand,” Magnus gritted out. “You’ve never understood.”

“What don’t I understand? Love?” The king laughed. “Is that what you think this is? A love worth committing treason for? Worth giving up your throne? Worth dying for, perhaps?”

Magnus’s lips stretched to a grimace. “So what’s your plan?” he said, unwilling to dignify his father’s remarks with a response. “To kill us both?”

“If it comes to that, I suppose I will have to. But I have something else in mind.”

Magnus hadn’t looked at Cleo, not once, since they’d left the cottage. She tried not to let that unnerve her. Now, more than ever before, she needed her courage. She needed her strength.

The king led them out of the forest, but instead of Lord Gareth’s castle, they’d come to the sharp edge of an icy cliff that dropped fifty feet down to a frozen lake.

“When I was a boy,” the king said, “my mother would bring me here every summer. There was a waterfall just over there.” The king gestured to their left. “It’s frozen now, just like everything else.” He glanced at Magnus. “I haven’t told you much about your grandmother, have I?”

“No, Father, but how exciting for me to learn more about my family history.”

“It should be. Your grandmother was a witch.”

Magnus blinked. “You’re lying. It’s impossible that I wouldn’t have heard about that before.”

“Yes, well, you know how gossip can be. Rumors spread like wildfire. Which is exactly why she kept her identity a secret. She didn’t even tell your grandfather. She only told me.”

“Quite the coincidence, then. My grandmother was a witch, and so was my real mother.”

“Ah, yes. That. I admit, I was surprised when you chose to believe that Sabina Mallius was your true mother.” Magnus shot his father a sharp look, and the king laughed. “You really can’t blame me. You did have a blade to my throat and were threatening to kill me. I needed a distraction.”

“So it was a lie. Only a lie.”

“Of course it was. Althea was your mother, no one else.”

Cleo saw a breath hitch in Magnus’s chest, and his hands turned to fists at his sides. “Well done, Father. How foolish of me to have ever forgotten how ruthless you are.”

“Yes, I suppose I am ruthless. If I weren’t, I never would have survived this long.” The king turned to Cleo, cocking his head. “You have caused me extraordinary misery in your short lifetime—more than you will ever realize.”

“Me?” she said, sternly incredulous, refusing to show this monster a glimmer of fear. “It has never been my intention to cause misery or difficulties. I only want to live the life I was meant for.”