Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms #2)(21)
CHAPTER 6
CLEO
AURANOS
As the date of her dreaded wedding drew closer, Cleo’s anxiety grew. She dreamed of escape—of growing wings like a bird and flying away from the palace, never to return.
But, alas, she was a bird still locked tightly in her cage. So, instead of dwelling on what awaited her in the weeks to come, she focused on what she could control. Knowledge. Studies. Praying she could find the answers she sought before it was too late. She found herself moving toward the palace library for the second time that day, but this time she encountered Mira sobbing in the hall outside the library’s tall doors.
“Mira!” Cleo rushed to her and pulled the girl into her arms. “What’s wrong?”
It took a moment, but Cleo’s friend finally managed to form words. “I still can’t find my brother anywhere! They’ve killed him, Cleo. I know it!”
Cleo drew her further away from the Limerian guards that seemed to lurk in every shadow, instructed, she knew, to keep a close eye on the princess lest she stray from the castle.
“Nic’s not dead,” Cleo assured her, tugging Mira’s hands away from her tear-streaked face.
“How do you know?”
“Because if he was, Magnus would have been certain to rub it in. For me to know that Nic had been executed for what he did in Paelsia . . .” Even the very thought of it was like a hot poker shoved through her heart. “He knows it would destroy me. And he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me. I know we haven’t been able to find Nic yet, but he’s alive, Mira.” He’s got to be, she thought.
Her words were sinking in. Slowly, Mira regained control and stopped crying. She rubbed her eyes wearily, a trace of anger now lighting within them. “You’re right. The prince would celebrate your pain. I hate him, Cleo. I hate it every time he comes to see Princess Lucia. He’s a beast.”
Cleo had barely seen the prince over the week since he’d chosen to continue this horrible betrothal. It seemed that he wished to have very little to do with Cleo, which was more than fine by her. “I couldn’t agree more. Just try to stay out of his way, all right? How did you slip away from Lucia’s bedside? I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“The queen is visiting her daughter right now. She told me to leave and return later. Of course, I didn’t argue. I’d hoped to find a friendly face in this nest of vipers. Yours is the first I’ve seen today.”
Cleo repressed a smile. Nest of vipers, indeed. “Well, I’m glad for the chance to see you. It’s the only good thing that’s happened all day.”
She stood with her friend at the edge of the hallway, sweeping her gaze over the large portraits of each member of the Bellos family, which lined the hall outside the library doors. She couldn’t look away from the painted eyes of her father. Her last memory of him was of his death in her arms from a wound inflicted during the attack on the castle. In his final moments, he’d given her a ring passed down from generation to generation in her family, a ring said to somehow help lead the way to the Kindred. He hoped, with that magic in her possession, she would be able to crush King Gaius and reclaim the throne. But he’d died before he could tell her anything else.
Cleo believed it to be the very same ring rumored to have belonged to the sorceress Eva, the ring that allowed her to touch the Kindred without being corrupted by the endless elemental power of the lost crystals. Cleo had hidden the ring in her chambers behind a loose stone in her wall, and she’d come here to the library every day since, searching for more information to help her figure out her next move. Her father had believed in her so much, far more than she believed in herself. She couldn’t let him down now.
Mira touched her arm, her eyes now dry. “You’re trying to be so strong, but I know, Cleo. I know how much you miss him. How much you miss Emilia. I miss them too. It’s all right to let yourself cry. I’m here for you.”
Cleo swallowed hard, her heart swelling to know that she had a friend who understood her pain. “I try not to look upon their faces for too long when I come by here. When I see them, I . . .” She exhaled shakily. “It so strange. Sometimes I can’t see anything past the darkness of my grief. Other times I’m angry, so angry that they left me to deal with all this on my own. And I know how selfish that sounds, but I can’t help how I feel. So, don’t you see? I can’t let myself cry. If I cry again I might not ever be able to stop.”
“You should know, princess . . .” Aron’s voice cut between them as effectively as the edge of a blade. “The king has instructed that these portraits—apart from the one of you, of course—are to be taken down and replaced with those of the Damoras.”
Cleo spun to face yet another lurker in the shadows. That was what Aron did now that their engagement was called off. Lurk.
She had hoped he would go away, back to his parents’ villa elsewhere in the City of Gold, but it appeared that he had moved into the palace permanently.
“And will you do it yourself?” she asked, her words twisting. “I know, as the king’s new lap dog, you will do anything he asks of you for the mere promise of a treat.”
He gave her a tight smile. “No, why should I? Since I am fully capable of giving orders of my own. And why wait?” He gestured toward the two red-uniformed guards who’d accompanied him. They immediately went to the wall and began to remove the portraits. Mira clutched Cleo’s arm as if to prevent her from lurching forward. Fury rose within her like a tidal wave.