Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(17)

“Jonas also knows.”

She gasped. “This is unacceptable!”

“Apologies, princess, but it’s only been less than a day since we agreed to share more than loathing and distrust.”

Memories of the cottage in the woods returned to her vividly: a night of fear and survival leading to a very unexpected encounter.

Cleo bit her bottom lip, her previous outrage all but forgotten. “My head’s still spinning from everything that’s happened.”

“Mine too.”

She glanced at the guards to see that one of them paced back and forth, as if in an agitated state.

“Let’s make our way to the meeting place,” she said firmly. She opened the front of her cloak to look at the crimson gown beneath. “I hope I can find new clothes in the village. This is the only thing I have to my name, and it’s torn.”

Magnus’s gaze traveled slowly down the length of her. “Yes. I remember tearing it.”

Cleo’s cheeks heated. “It should be burned.”

“No, this gown will never be destroyed. It will be displayed in great prominence for all eternity.” His lips curved into a smile. “But I agree, you are in need of better traveling garb. The color is rather . . . eye-catching.”

She felt his warmth as he slid his hand down her arm, his gaze fixed upon the gown Nerissa had found in the palace for her to wear for her speech.

The closer Magnus got to her, the more her heart sped up. “Perhaps we can discuss this later, at the inn, in our . . . room?” she said softly.

Then, without warning, Magnus let go of her. She felt a sudden waft of cold air as he took a step away from her. “Actually, I’m going to make sure that you’re given separate quarters.”

She frowned. “Separate?”

“You and I will not be sharing a room for the foreseeable future.”

She stared at him blankly for a long moment, his words making no sense. “I don’t understand. Why not? After last night, I thought . . .”

“You thought wrong.” His face had gone very pale. “I won’t put your life at risk.”

Still, he spoke in riddles she couldn’t easily solve. “Why would my life be at risk if we were to share a room?” She watched as his expression turned tortured and he raked a hand through his hair. “Magnus, talk to me. What is it?”

“You don’t know?”

“Clearly I don’t. So tell me!”

Reluctantly, he did as she asked. “A witch’s curse is the reason your mother died in childbirth. And that curse is why you, too, will die if you become pregnant.”

All she could do is stare at him in absolute shock. “Your father told you this.”

He nodded once, his jaw tight.

“And you believed such a ridiculous tale, just like that?”

“Don’t make it sound so foolish. I’m not a fool—I know there’s a possibility he could be lying to me. But I still refuse to take such a chance.”

“What chance?” She frowned, feeling stupid that she didn’t follow.

He took her by her shoulders tightly, gazing intensely into her eyes. “The chance of losing you.”

Her confusion washed away, replaced by a swelling warmth in her heart. “Oh.”

“My grandmother is a witch. If there is truly a curse on you, she will break it.”

It seemed impossible that she’d never heard of something so serious before, but her father had always been secretive, especially when it came to magic. He’d never told Cleo that he’d had a witch put a protective spell upon the entrance of the Auranian palace, one only Lucia was powerful enough to break.

Perhaps this was similar.

Her thoughts went to her mother, and her heart broke to think of the woman she never knew, destined to die giving her life.

“If this is true,” she said after a moment, still refusing to fully believe such a far-fetched possibility, “I’ve heard of other methods to prevent a pregnancy.”

“I won’t risk your life until this curse is broken. And I don’t give a damn if my father is lying to me. I won’t take the chance that he’s right. Do you hear me?” Magnus’s voice had grown darker and quieter, sending a shiver down her spine.

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Could it be true? She hated to think it might even be a possibility. Why wouldn’t her father have mentioned such a horrible thing?

Now she needed answers every bit as much as Magnus did. All the more reason to see his witch grandmother.

Cleo noticed that the agitated guard who’d been pacing had suddenly drawn closer to them.

“Your highness . . .” the guard said.

Cleo tore her gaze from Magnus’s to look at the guard, shocked to see that he had withdrawn his sword and was now pointing it at them.

Magnus pushed Cleo roughly behind him. “What is this?” he hissed.

The guard shook his head, his expression strained and a bit frantic. “I find that I cannot abide by the king’s orders. The empress and her army are in control of Mytica now. Limerians have no say over their futures anymore. To continue to align myself with those who wish to deceive and oppose the empress would be committing treason. Therefore, I must turn you over to the empress.”

Cleo stared at him with shock. “You disgusting coward!”