Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms #2)(41)

She tore her gaze from the wooden door. “What? Speak quickly. They’ll be coming in here in moments.”

“Concerned for my safety?”

“No, for mine. If I’m found alone in a room with a rebel—”

“It would put a damper on your betrothal to the prince, wouldn’t it?”

“And cost both of us our lives. You must leave while there’s time.”

“You’re coming with me.”

He must be mad. “I’m doing no such thing.”

Jonas shook his head. “Apologies, your highness, but you really should have said yes the last time we spoke. It might have helped avoid the necessity of this.”

Alarm grew in her chest at the dark look that had come over his expression. She turned to the door and opened her mouth to yell for help. Nic now banged on the door, attempting to break it open.

Jonas was behind her, crushing her back against his chest. His hand covered her mouth—it held a cloth that smelled strange. Of strong herbs.

“You won’t believe me,” he said into her ear, “but I mean you no harm.”

She’d smelled the same thing once—a healer had used it to induce sleep when she’d broken her ankle as a child. To avoid further pain, and for him to have the opportunity to reset the broken bone, he’d administered this powerful medicine.

She tried to scream but found she had no voice. Darkness fell all around her.





CHAPTER 11


MAGNUS



AURANOS



The palace had been in an uproar for hours, ever since the carriage returned from Hawk’s Brow without Princess Cleiona. She’d been taken from a private room in the dressmaker’s shop and a note had been left behind, addressed to the king himself, tucked into the folds of the wedding gown she’d been there to see.

I have the princess. If you wish her returned unharmed, you will immediately cease construction on your road and free all those you’ve enslaved to work on it.

“Will you do as the rebel demands?” Magnus now asked the king. He and his father were in Lucia’s chambers, standing on either side of her bed, the sleeping princess between them.

“No. I need my road finished, and soon. It will stop for nothing, especially not the demands of a rebel.”

Magnus’s gaze snapped to the king. “Then he’ll kill her.”

A nod. “Most likely.”

Even for the king, this utter lack of emotion was surprising, at least until Magnus realized that this played well into his father’s plans. Such an end for Cleo would gain him great sympathy from the Auranian citizens. And it would paint the rebels as abhorrent villains who would harm an innocent young girl loved by thousands of her subjects.

Still, it troubled him.

“There was no need for her to travel to another location for such a trivial thing,” he said. “The fitting could have happened here.”

“Yes, it could have.”

Magnus frowned. “Did you know this would happen?”

The king’s expression grew thoughtful. “I thought it a possibility that the rebels might act.”

“So you put her in danger with the knowledge that there might be an attack?” Rage, still controlled, boiled beneath his skin at the very thought of it. “Mother was also on that journey!”

“And your mother is fine, only shaken. Magnus, you think me so cold that I would put my wife and the princess in harm’s way without a single care about their safety?”

Magnus managed to hold his tongue. “So now what? We wait for the next letter to arrive listing further demands you won’t meet?”

“No. I’ve already sent out a search team. There are rumors a Paelsian rebel group has set up camp in the Wildlands not many hours’ journey from here. If they find her, your upcoming marriage can be a grand event to continue to distract the masses. But if they don’t . . .” He leaned over to absently stroke a lock of dark hair off Lucia’s pale forehead. “Then it’s fate. The rebels will be seen as the murderers of Auranos’s golden princess. They will be outcasts, hated by every person in this kingdom and beyond. Either way, we win. They lose.”

Magnus flicked a glance at the attendant, Mira, on the far side of the room. She cleaned the balcony railing, running a rag along it. Her plain gray dress, the innocuous outfit of a servant, allowed her to move about dim rooms without notice, hiding in the shadows, available when needed but otherwise unnoticeable.

But Magnus couldn’t help but notice that the girl’s face held both worry and outrage. She knew of Cleo’s kidnapping. Her brother, Magnus remembered, had gone along with the carriage as additional protection.

Some protection. Magnus personally would have taken the opportunity to have Nic punished for such a failure if the boy hadn’t looked absolutely destroyed when he’d returned with the rest of the guards.

“Kill me now,” Nic had spat at him, his voice breaking. “I deserve it for letting this happen.”

“And interrupt your misery?” Magnus had studied his tortured expression for a moment before turning away. “Not today.”

Magnus would not admit it to anyone, but the idea of the rebels capturing the princess disturbed him greatly. He didn’t want to care what horrors she might be experiencing at this very moment. Besides, the princess’s death would put an end to this ridiculous betrothal his father had insisted upon. It would be for the best.