“Well enough,” Magnus replied, his words clipped. “Much gratitude for your concern, Lady Sophia. I think I’ll take a short walk with my . . . with the princess before my speech so she can clear her head. Perhaps all this excitement is too much for her. Is that what it is?”

“Yes, of course. I—I need to clear my head.” Cleo swallowed hard and glanced at her ring. The swirling had stopped and the strange speck of molten gold was no longer visible within the stone.

Nic gave her a strained and concerned look as Magnus led her away and toward the labyrinth.

What would have happened if she’d been brave enough to keep her hand pressed against the wheel? Would she—a mere mortal—be able to journey to the Sanctuary? Would it offer her some glimpse as to where to find the Kindred?

If she didn’t find the answers, she would allow Auranos to continue to be held under the iron fist of King Gaius. And she’d be letting her father down. How she wished he was still alive to guide her now. Sometimes when she least expected it—like now— the bottomless emptiness of all she’d lost mercilessly pulled her downward.

“Is there something wrong?” Magnus asked. “You’re upset.”

Cleo wiped away a tear and didn’t bother looking directly at him. “Do you care?”

“I care that a sobbing princess doesn’t present a very good picture of a happy marriage.”

“I’m not sobbing.” She gave him a hard look. “Perhaps you’d prefer it if I were.”

“Such belligerence, princess. Whatever have I done to deserve this today?”

“You’re breathing.” The words were out before she could restrain them and she bit into her lower lip. She decided to change the subject. “What is this place?”

“The Limerian palace grounds, of course.”

“No, I mean this place. This maze. Why’s it here?”

He glanced around. “Afraid of getting lost?”

“Can’t you just answer a simple question without being difficult?” Again, she bit her lip and studied the ground, fighting her constant frustration when it came to dealing with the prince.

Magnus let out a soft snort. “I don’t think you’re capable of asking simple questions. But all right. I’ll play along. This was a present for my sister six years ago. Lord Psellos wanted to garner favor for his son and an eventual betrothal, so he had this constructed as a birthday present.” His lips curved at the memory, the smile helping to soften his sharp features. “Lucia loved this maze. She’d challenge others to a race through it. Often, she’d have to go back in to retrieve someone who’d become hopelessly lost. Usually it was me.”

The swift change in Magnus’s mood as he spoke of Lucia was surprising. Cleo recalled the sordid gossip Dora and Helena had shared with her about Magnus and Lucia. “You love your sister.”

His jaw tightened and he didn’t reply for a moment. “You think me incapable of such an emotion?”

“Again, that’s not really an answer, is it?”

“Perhaps it’s a question that doesn’t deserve one.”

She glared at him. “For a moment I thought . . .”

“What, princess?” He eyed her. “That you’d found more evidence of that heart you continue to question?”

As if such a discovery were even possible. “I would never make that mistake. After all, you are your father’s son.”

“Yes. And you must never forget it.” His jaw tensed. “It’s nearly time for my speech. There are certain expectations of being the son of King Gaius. Making speeches is one of them. If nothing else, it brings this tour to an end. I’ve been receiving updates and understand that Lord Aron has thus far failed to capture the rebel leader. I will join the search the moment I return to Auranos.”

That Jonas was still free was a great relief. Cleo crossed her arms, trying to block out the chill by pulling her fox fur cloak tighter against her throat. For a moment, she grappled for what to say next. She didn’t wish to discuss Jonas or the rebels. Such dangerous topics could lead her onto treacherous ground. It was best to focus on today. On Magnus’s upcoming duties as heir to the king’s stolen crown. “Your father excels at speechmaking.”

“He does indeed.”

Cleo frowned at him as she realized something very important. “Wait. You’re stalling, aren’t you?”

“Stalling?”

“You brought me for this tour of the maze not to help clear my head, but to delay your speech. It’s officially your first one, isn’t it? You’re nervous about it.”

Magnus stared at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He said one thing yet acted another way. But she could suddenly see him clearly—clearer than ever before. “King Gaius adores the sound of his own voice. But you . . . you’re different.” And here she’d believed father and son were alike in every way.

“I don’t need to listen to this nonsense.”

His steps picked up speed as he continued through the maze. Cleo was now completely lost. She had to keep pace with him or he might leave her behind to freeze to death. She pulled at her crimson skirts to keep them from dragging on the ground and getting damp from the frost.

“Public speaking should come naturally to you, given your heritage.”

He gave her a dark look over his shoulder. “Spare your breath, princess. I don’t need any words of encouragement from you.”