Yet their expressions changed upon seeing Lucia. Many didn’t recognize her, but the few who did knew she was the daughter of the king. These were the faces that shifted from happiness to wariness and caution. To fear.
Or perhaps that was only Lucia’s imagination.
Everywhere they roamed there was something new and beautiful to feast their eyes upon, and Cleo kept up rapid and entertaining commentary on everything they passed—taverns, shops, parks, gardens. One particular garden reminded Lucia of the labyrinth back in Limeros that a lord had commissioned for her one year as a birthday present. Only this garden was green and lush, not white and icy like her maze. Birds of all colors flew through the air, perching in gigantic fruit trees and dramatic weeping willows. Butterflies flitted on the breeze.
It was all so beautiful.
But it wasn’t home.
“Cleo!” a voice cried. Lucia turned to see three unfamiliar girls running toward them. The guards stiffened, but Lucia cautioned them to stand down. As the girls came closer, Lucia regarded the girls with curiosity.
One, a blonde with a foxlike face, embraced Cleo immediately. “I never thought I’d ever be close enough to hug you again! You look wonderful!”
“Thank you,” Cleo said, smiling at the trio.
“Your sister . . .” said a dark-haired girl wearing round-rimmed glasses, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m so sorry about Emilia. And your father . . . oh, Cleo. It’s all so horrible!”
The third girl, who had dark brown hair and a face full of freckles, stepped in front of her friend. “Yes, it is horrible. I didn’t think they’d ever let you out of that castle, you poor thing! There are rumors that the prince keeps you in a tower under lock and key!”
“Oh, how absurd. I’m fine. All is well.” But there was something catching at Cleo’s voice. “And much gratitude, Maria, for your condolences. I miss my family more than I can ever express.” She smiled tightly and hooked her arm through Lucia’s. “Girls, I’d like you to meet Princess Lucia Damora. Lucia, this is Dana, Ada, and Maria, three of my oldest friends.”
The girls eyed one another with alarm before curtsying.
Lucia made sure not to show it, but this made her feel exceedingly uncomfortable. She was an outsider, an uninvited guest who ruined the party for the inner circle.
Well, that was just too bad, wasn’t it? Her father owned this city now. This entire kingdom, in fact. And everyone in it.
They should learn to be more respectful.
“It’s an honor, your highness,” Ada, the freckled one, said, curtsying again. “I hope we haven’t offended you.”
“Not at all,” Lucia replied.
That was a lie, of course. No matter how much her father believed he had these people under his thumb, she knew they wouldn’t easily forget what had happened. And it was not known by many, but Lucia had played a crucial role in the takeover. She had used her elementia to break through the magical warding on the palace doors she and Cleo had just walked through.
That moment had changed everything.
Would she have done as her father asked if she could have predicted the results?
If she hadn’t, her father would surely have been defeated. He and Magnus would undoubtedly have been killed. She would have lost so much.
Yes, she thought. She would do it again if she had to, if it meant saving the people she loved.
And, frankly, girls such as Cleo’s friends were lucky to be alive. They should be thanking her.
“It was wonderful seeing you all,” Cleo said hurriedly, clearly just as eager as Lucia was to end this little gathering. “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
The girls murmured farewells as Cleo and Lucia walked past them. Lucia kept her proud stare on their wary glances until they each looked away, lowering their eyes to the ground.
That’s better.
“Apologies if they seemed rude,” Cleo said. “They’re just a small part of the group I used to socialize with. Perhaps they’re confused and hurt because they haven’t received an invitation to the palace in so long.”
Nor will they ever again, Lucia thought. “Are you very close with them?”
“Can we ever really have friends outside the palace we can truly trust?”
No. They couldn’t. Lucia hadn’t had many female friends in Limeros, as her father had kept her sheltered from petty socializing. Instead, she formed bonds with her tutors, as well as a few potential suitors from noble families she’d met at banquets and formal events. And, of course, Magnus.
A lump formed in Lucia’s throat. She used to consider Magnus not only her older brother, but her dearest friend. The cold way he treated her now pained her deeply.
But she couldn’t love him the way he wanted her to. And everything she’d done or said since his confession had only damaged their relationship more.
“Lucia?” Cleo squeezed her arm. “It feels like you’re a thousand miles away. Are you feeling all right?”
Somehow the princess’s touch helped chase the darkness away. “I’m fine. The heat, though. It’s rather oppressive, isn’t it?”
“It is quite warm today. Let’s stop for a while.” Cleo smiled. “I know the perfect place to rest.”
She led the way down a narrow cobblestone street filled with shops, then turned along an alley. It led them away from the business area and toward a tree-lined clearing. The grassy field was the size of the palace courtyard, at least a hundred paces in diameter, around which were arranged benches shaded by tall, leafy trees.
“My friends and I used to come here often,” Cleo explained. “Quite excellent entertainment, I must say.”
All around the clearing, at least two dozen handsome young men practiced swordsmanship with wooden blades. Roped off to the side was another area where they wrestled hand to hand. Most were laughing, their faces dirty, as they flexed their muscles and darted around one another.
“They’re not wearing shirts,” Lucia observed with surprise.
Cleo grinned at her. “No, they aren’t.”
Lucia didn’t know of anything like this in Limeros.
“Should we be watching this?” she asked.
“Why not? Trust me, they like to be watched. It’ll make them fight harder.”
Around the circumference of the field small crowds looked on with great interest.
“Guard! Fetch us something cool to drink,” Cleo said. “There’s a tavern at the end of the lane that stocks the strawberry wine I like.”
The guard looked to Lucia, who nodded with approval. Strawberry wine sounded like an excellent idea. “Go ahead.”
“Yes, your highness,” the guard said, then hurried off.
“So, what do you think?” Cleo asked.
Lucia followed Cleo’s lead and took a seat at the edge of the field beneath a tall oak tree and took in the activities before her. The thought of her father’s disapproval of all of this amused her. This was an unnecessary display, nothing more than an excuse to show off, and Limerians had always frowned upon vanity. “They seem rather good.”
Cleo nodded. “I’m happy to see this practice has continued on. It used to be that off-duty Auranian guards would teach local boys these skills. Now it seems as if the boys are teaching themselves.”
“Auranian boys learning battle skills. For what purpose?” Lucia asked, skeptical. “To mount a rebellion against my father?”
Cleo laughed lightly and Lucia eyed her, uncertain what had been so funny. “No, believe me, this is just for fun. I’ve known boys like these all my life. Beyond little tournaments to draw the attentions of pretty girls, they aren’t interested in battle. Besides, if the king saw this as a threat, I have no doubt he’d put a stop to it.”
This was true. And Lucia had to admit, the display before her was certainly . . . entertaining.
S
till, even now, amidst the sunshine and greenery and handsome young men, Lucia felt the darkness of her magic stirring within her. It was always with her, ever present, but when she was with Cleo it didn’t torment her as much as it did when she was alone.
Elemental magic should be natural and beautiful, like life itself. But whenever Lucia let it take over, it seemed to lead only to pain and death.
And part of her, a very small part, didn’t mind this at all.
The thought made her tremble.
Cleo reached over and squeezed her hand, the warmth of her skin sinking into Lucia’s cool flesh. Immediately, her dark thoughts vanished, as if by magic itself.
She glanced up at the sky, shielding her eyes. A golden hawk flew high above, and her heart jumped at the sight. She’d seen many hawks over the last few weeks. Every one of them gave her a gift of hope, which would then slip away through her fingers like sand.
“You seem so sad today,” Cleo said. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Lucia laughed quietly at Cleo’s continued attempts to be friends with her. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Do you think Magnus would approve of you coming here to look at these shirtless boys?” Lucia asked wryly, attempting to change the subject and regain control.
A shadow passed behind Cleo’s blue-green eyes. “You’d have to ask Magnus.”
That would require Lucia to track him down and talk to him, something he would likely avoid at all costs.
“Do you feel anything at all for him?” Lucia asked.
Cleo paused. “It was an arranged marriage, Lucia. I didn’t choose him, nor did he choose me.”
“If I were you, I’d hate him.” Her words came out more bluntly, and were more truthful, than she’d wanted them to be. Perhaps it was a sign she’d grown more comfortable around Cleo after all. “I’d hate all of us. My hate would burn brighter every day I was forced to sit next to my enemies.” Her throat felt tight and strained. “You must understand why I’m guarded around you. I have no real reason to trust that your intentions are for friendship rather than revenge.”
“You’re absolutely right. You don’t.” Cleo’s eyes glistened and she squeezed them shut. “But what choice do I have but to accept what’s happened and try to make the best of it?”
That felt honest to Lucia. Cleo hadn’t tried to deny her suspicions, but did Lucia blame her for feeling and acting this way? Did she really think Cleo was anything other than a lost girl searching for some kind of connection, even with those who’d stolen so much from her?
The question was, could she be a friend? A true friend Lucia could trust with her deepest, darkest secrets?
Lucia bit her bottom lip and focused on the boys in front of her, but eventually her gaze drifted back up to the hawk circling in the sky.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.
“Yes,” Cleo said after a moment, softly.
“Where is he now?”
“Dead.”
Dozens of questions rose up inside Lucia. Dead? How? An accident? In battle? Was it Lord Aron she spoke of, or someone else?
She waited for the heart-wrenching story to come pouring out, but Cleo said nothing further about it. In the silence, Lucia felt the overwhelming urge to share her own loss with someone who might understand.
“In my life, I’ve only truly loved one boy.” Lucia shook her head, nearly amused. Boy seemed such a trivial description for him. “Do you . . . believe in Watchers?”
“Yes.”
So many people would scoff at such things, but Cleo’s quick, definitive answer and calm expression held the same gravity that Lucia felt in her heart.
She’d told no one this before. No one.
And now the words surged forth before she could stop them.
“When I was trapped in sleep, a Watcher named Alexius visited my dreams. He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. He promised to visit me again after I woke, but I haven’t seen him since. And now . . . now I’m not sure if he was ever real to begin with.”
It wasn’t until she felt the dampness on her cheeks that she realized she was crying. As she remembered the last time she’d seen him, the kiss they’d shared, pain wrenched through her heart, and the heavy darkness within her grew.
Just then, lightning crackled above the field as dark storm clouds gathered, blocking the sun. Thunder rolled, and the rain began to pour. The boys looked up with surprise, their hair and clothes drenched in seconds.
“Princess, we must go now,” a guard urged.
Lucia looked up at the clouds with surprise. Auranos rarely experienced anything but perfect, temperate weather.
“Did you do that?” Cleo whispered.
“I don’t know.” Her elementia gave her the power to do so many incredible things—both wonderful and fearsome—but to control weather itself . . .
The thought was just as frightening as it was exciting.
Cleo linked her arm with Lucia’s as they stood up together. “I know what it’s like to love someone different from you. Someone others might look down upon or deny you. It causes more pain than happiness, especially if the one you love is stolen from you too soon.”
“Yes,” Lucia whispered.
“Before my father died, he told me to believe in magic. And that’s what I do. I believe in things other people think are impossible, and it makes me strong enough to face whatever comes next. I believe that your Alexius is real and that right this moment he’s thinking about how much he misses you.”
Lucia couldn’t deny it. Cleo was getting to her, breaking through that dark wall that surrounded her.
Believe in magic. Believe in the impossible.
Believe, tentatively, in this fragile new friendship with Cleo.
And believe that one day she’d see Alexius again.
CHAPTER 7
ALEXIUS
THE SANCTUARY
In the two thousand years Alexius had existed, he’d never wanted anything as much as this.
He lay back in the grass of his favorite meadow with his eyes closed and reached out through the darkness, searching for her.
Where are you?
No answer. He tried until his head ached, until his body felt weak. Until he was so frustrated he could scream. But once again it didn’t work.
The princess was lost to him—out somewhere in the mortal world, alone with no one to guide or protect her.
The thought made him laugh, and the sound rumbled deep in his chest.
Protect her.
“Alexius.”
He jumped to his feet at the sound of Timotheus’s voice.
“Greetings,” he managed to say through his hoarse throat. He hadn’t spoken aloud all day.
Timotheus, Alexius’s friend and mentor, as well as one of the Three that made up the council of elders, regarded Alexius with his arms crossed and patience in his golden eyes. “Am I interrupting your daily meditation? Or were you attempting to dreamwalk?”
“Neither,” he lied. “I was only resting.” To admit he was trying to visit the dreams of a mortal would only spark additional questions. Questions he couldn’t answer.
“There’s something different about you,” Timotheus said, walking a slow circle around Alexius as he studied his tall, lean frame. “I’ve noticed for many months now, ever since you began spending so much time with Melenia.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Be wary of her.”
A bolt of worry struck Alexius, and he fought to hide it from his face. “I’m wary of everyone here in the Sanctuary.”
“That makes you wise.”
“Are you just out for a stroll? Or did you come here looking for me?”
“Neither. I’m looking for Phaedra. She’s still missing.
”
To hear the name of his dearest friend was an unexpected blow. “I know.”
“Do you know where she disappeared to?”
“No.”
Timotheus didn’t break eye contact. Despite their centuries of friendship, despite all the guidance and knowledge the elder had shared, Alexius still had secrets he needed to keep from him.
Horrible secrets.
“I believe Melenia has something to do with her disappearance,” Timotheus said. “You might ask her about it the next time you see her, which I presume will be today?”
Alexius chose not to confirm this. “I’ll be sure to ask her the next time I see her.”
Rumors had begun to spread across the Crystal City that he was their fair leader’s newest lover, a designation that drew stares of envy and jealousy from his fellow immortals everywhere he went.
But that rumor couldn’t be further from the truth.
“I should be leaving now.” Alexius tensed up as Timotheus clasped his shoulder, concern clouding his eternally youthful face.
“Alexius, you can trust me with any secret. Just as you always have. I hope you know that. If there is anything you need to tell me, don’t hesitate.”
Alexius smiled and nodded, wishing it were that simple.
• • •
He needed to know what had happened to Phaedra. The question ate away at him anew as he journeyed to the top of the crystal palace to meet Melenia. The beautiful Watcher greeted him with a smile, opening her golden doors wide to allow him entry into her chambers, which were full of light and the beautiful flowers that were picked daily by her obedient minions.
“You’re early,” she said, kissing him on both cheeks before she closed the doors. Her long, flowing, flaxen hair smelled like warm saffron and reflected the light from the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out on the rest of the city where the immortals made their home.
He hadn’t taken more than a step inside the room before he brought up the troubling subject. “I need to know about Phaedra.”
“She has disappeared.”