Cleo’s eyes did not hold quite as much amazement as Lucia’s did. “I must confess, I never came here as much as my sister did. She loved it. She always had a book to read. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already worked her way through half of these by the time she . . .” Her words trailed off, and her cheeks were tight as she brought her pained gaze back to Lucia’s.

Lucia’s distaste faded somewhat in sympathy for this girl who’d lost so much. Her sister, her father, her kingdom. All taken by an enemy force, which included Lucia herself. And now, this library belonged more to her than it did to Cleo.

“Your sister sounds much like me, then,” Lucia said gently. “I love to read.”

“Then you’ll fit in very well here.”

“I’m glad to get the chance to talk to you.” The other princess, despite her new status as Magnus’s wife, was watched carefully and kept in a different wing of the castle. Her prison might be a gilded one, but it was no less secure. And yet, here she was today, roaming about unescorted, with no guard to be seen. Had this enemy to her father’s throne managed to ease herself into King Gaius’s good graces after the successful wedding tour?

“And I’m very glad that you’re feeling better. Everyone was terribly worried about you, not understanding why you remained asleep for so long.” Cleo looked at Lucia curiously, as if expecting a reason to freely be given.

“It was the strangest thing.” Lucia shook her head, back on her guard. “And I’m afraid it may always remain a mystery.”

“There was a rumor that you might have been cursed by a witch. That you were under a magic spell.”

Lucia frowned deliberately, as if this sounded ludicrous to her. “Magic? Do you believe in such silly things?”

Cleo’s smile stretched thinner. “Of course not. But servants like to talk, you know. Especially when it’s about royalty. They love to make up all sorts of interesting tales.”

“They certainly do. But no, I was under no magical spell, I assure you.” The lie felt so natural it took no effort at all to deliver.

“I’m very glad to hear that.” Cleo shifted her books in her arms.

“What are you reading?” Lucia asked, cocking her head so she could make out the gilded titles stamped onto the leather spines. “A History of Elementia. My goodness. That sounds like a strange choice of book for one who doesn’t believe in magic.”

“Yes, doesn’t it?” Cleo’s knuckles whitened on the edge of the large book. “It was one of my sister’s favorites. Reading such things makes me feel that her spirit is close, guiding me.”

This conversation was far more work than Lucia expected it to be. There was a time, back before the battle that had put this kingdom in her father’s hands, that Lucia had imagined their meeting, hoping that they might become close friends. She’d begun to doubt that possibility now. She strained to read the title of the second, smaller book, which was covered in dust, as though Cleo had unearthed it from a long-forgotten stack, and her heart began to pound harder. “Song of the Sorceress. What is that about?”

Cleo glanced down at it. “Poetry about a powerful sorceress who lived at the time of the goddesses. Her name was—well, your middle name. . . . Eva. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Lucia’s throat tightened. “Yes, quite.”

This was a book she needed.

“I should probably leave you to your own book search. I’d say you have permission to borrow whatever you like, but I don’t suppose you need it, do you?”

There was just a drop of acid contained within those words. Lucia was pleased by it; pleased to know that the girl was not all she appeared—a polite and perfectly poised princess. She wore masks, the same kind that Lucia and Magnus did. Was it possible to be a member of a royal family and not have such a tool at the ready? Thinking this, Lucia felt her heart soften toward the other girl once again.

“I know this is all difficult for you,” Lucia said, touching Cleo’s arm as she moved past her. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Cleo smiled, but her eyes were cold. “How nice to know of your empathy for my situation.”

“If you need to talk, please know that I’m here for you.”

“As I am for you.”

Something caught Lucia’s eye then and she looked down at Cleo’s hand.

“Your ring.” She frowned. “Is it . . . glowing?”

Cleo took a step back, her face growing pale. She glanced down at her ring, a delicate golden filigree with a large purple stone she wore on the index finger of her right hand. She adjusted the books so her hand was now shielded. “A trick of the light, I’m sure. Nothing more.”

How strange. “Well, in any case, I hope to see much more of you from now on.”

“Yes. I feel the same way. Since we’re now sisters.”

Was it only her imagination too that the word was delivered as sharp as a dagger?

“Do you know when Magnus will be back?” Lucia asked.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“No.”

“I was under the impression that your brother shared everything with you.”

Lucia pressed her lips together, choosing not to answer. There was a time when this would have been true. Lately, however . . .

The thought that she’d lost her brother’s confidence suddenly pained her, an ache she felt deep in her heart.