Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms #4)(32)

“Our goddess—” he began.

“Forget your goddess,” Cleo cut him off. Several council members gasped. “You need to think of your citizens—especially the poor, who are suffering right now.”

Everyone began speaking at once, one argument overlapping another, creating a cacophony of grunts and chatter.

Magnus leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands on his lap, and silently observed the outrage. Cleo’s cheeks were flushed red, but he knew it wasn’t from embarrassment. Her heightened color was a product of sheer outrage.

“Quiet, all of you,” Magnus said, but no one heard him above their own noise. He raised his voice and shouted. “Silence!”

The council finally hushed, all eyes turning to look at him expectantly.

“Princess Cleiona’s suggestion is certainly”—How best to put it?—“Auranian.”

“Outrageous is more like it,” Loggis mumbled.

“Outrageous to us, perhaps. But that doesn’t mean it has no merit. Perhaps Limeros has been stuck in the past for far too long. Religious tradition aside, the princess has suggested a potential solution, and I agree that it’s worth more thought and discussion.”

Cleo turned to him, her expression gripped with surprise.

“But the goddess—” the high priest protested once again.

Magnus held up his hand. “The goddess does not currently have a seat on this council.”

“I represent the goddess here, lest you forget,” he continued, his voice edged in fiery defiance. He sniffed as Magnus gave him a sharp glare, then lowered his gaze to the table top, his jaw clenched.

Magnus stood up and walked around the long table, considering the problem at hand. “I’ll send a message to my father, presenting this proposal to him. As he has made no attempts to cease the sale and consumption of wine or ale in Auranos, I believe he may see the potential here to solve a great many problems with one bold decision.” The high priest again opened his mouth, and Magnus raised his hand to stop him. “Can you swear to the goddess right now that you have never tasted a drop of wine in your entire life, High Priest Danus? I certainly can’t.”

“Nor I,” Kurtis conceded with a nod. “The princess is as smart and innovative as she is beautiful.”

“Indeed she is,” Magnus agreed without thinking.

Cleo glanced at him, clearly surprised by this admission. Their gazes locked and held. He was the first to look away.

“This meeting is at an end,” Magnus said, managing to find his voice again.

The council members moved to leave, but Lord Loggis raised a finger, stopping them. “There is one last matter to discuss, your highness,” he said. “The large search party of guards that has been sent out to find Princess Lucia has found nothing at all. Apologies, but to continue to have so many men focused this task seems to me a misuse of both manpower and resources.”

His sister’s name drew Magnus’s full attention. “I disagree.”

“But, your highness,” Lord Loggis went on, “nothing about the current situation suggests that your sister is in any danger. Perhaps . . .” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps once the princess has had enough time to think through her recent actions, and how they might have caused some alarm, she will simply return to the palace and all will be well and forgiven.”

When Magnus had tripled the number of guards assigned to scour the land for Lucia, he hadn’t given them or their commanders any additional details about her disappearance. He didn’t reveal that her tutor was an exiled Watcher. That Lucia was a sorceress. That the last place he knew for certain that she’d been was left with a floor splattered with blood, dead bodies outside, and an ice storm summoned by pure, unleashed elemental magic.

“Another week,” Magnus said. “If the guards don’t find her by then, I’ll call half of them back.” Lord Loggis opened his mouth to protest further, but Magnus raised his hand. “That’s my final decision.”

The lord nodded, his dark eyes empty of anything friendly. “Yes. Of course, your highness.”

Magnus gestured to the door and the council members filed out of the room.

“Princess, wait,” he said, stopping Cleo short on the threshold.

She turned to him, her face once again full of surprise, as he pushed the doors closed behind the others, leaving them alone in the cavernous throne room.

“Yes?” she said.

“Strangely, I find it necessary to thank you for your input today.”

She raised her brow. “Thank me? Am I dreaming?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t happen again anytime soon.” Magnus drew even closer to her, and her smile faded at the edges.

“Was there something else you wanted from me?” she asked.

If only you knew, he thought. You’d probably run away from here and never look back.

“No,” he replied.

She cleared her throat. “Nerissa arrived this morning.”

“So she’s the one responsible for your hair today, is she?” He wound a silky, golden lock around his finger and studied it carefully, taking in its scent, like an intoxicating, exotic flower.

“She is,” Cleo said after a lengthy pause.

“In Limeros, proper women don’t wear their hair loose like this. Tell her to braid it or tie it back from now on. That is, unless it’s your goal to look like a courtesan.”