He silenced her with a wave. “My first priority is to regain control over my kingdom. Mytica does not now, nor will it ever, belong to the Kraeshian Empire.”

“Were it not for the magic rumored to be lying dormant here,” Ashur said, “I can assure you, neither Amara nor my father would have bothered with this tiny island.”

“I assume you’re aware that Amara poisoned your father and brothers,” the king countered. “She’s without remorse when it comes to getting what she wants.”

Nic’s dark laugh cut through the tension in the room. “That’s funny. Without remorse, he says, as if he deems it a fault. The very man who broke my sister’s neck for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” His laughter ceased all at once. “You look like death, your majesty. And I can only hope you’re suffering right now.”

“You won’t talk to the king that way, Cassian.” It was Milo, the guard, who said this.

Nic glared across the room at him. “Or what? Are you going to get your friend to help beat me up?”

Milo smiled while cracking his knuckles. “I can do it myself just fine.”

“Thought you were wasting away in the dungeon.”

The guard’s smile darkened. “I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”

“You do.” Nic’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do about it, Milo?”

“So many things. Give me time.”

“Milo, is it? Listen to me very carefully.” Ashur’s voice was low, like the quiet snarl of a caged beast. “If you ever attempt to harm Nicolo, I swear I will personally skin you alive.”

Jonas’s eyes shot to Milo. He saw that Milo’s only reply to this threat was a surprised blink.

Cleo spoke then to the king, after glancing worriedly between Nic and the guard. “You gave Mytica to Amara,” she said, disgust clear in her voice. “Can’t you simply take it back?”

“You understand nothing,” the king bit out. “None of you do. Emperor Cortas would have taken Mytica by force had I not acted when I did. Tens—no, hundreds of thousands would have died in that war had I not made my proposal to him.”

“Oh, yes,” Magnus drawled. “My father: the savior of us all. We should erect statues in your honor. Shame that there are already dozens of them throughout Limeros.” Magnus glowered at him. “Quite vain, now that I think about it. The goddess Valoria would not approve.”

“To the darklands with the goddess and with all the Watchers as well,” the king snapped. “We need none of their help to get rid of Amara.”

“Don’t forget about Kyan,” Jonas added.

The king glanced at him. “Who is Kyan?”

Jonas couldn’t help but laugh. “I would truly love to stay here and strategize with you, your highness, but I grow weary of this charade. I will not work with you now, tomorrow, or ever.”

“Tell me, your highness,” Felix said slowly, “do you still have the air Kindred?”

Gaius shot him a dark look.

“The air Kindred!” his mother exclaimed. “You have it? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I do have it,” he said simply.

“Where?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Jonas tried to catch Cleo’s eye, but she seemed to be occupied in a silent conversation with the prince. As they looked at one another, all amusement disappeared from Magnus’s face.

“If this is true, and when I’m strong enough to locate my granddaughter,” the woman said, “then victory is ours for the taking.”

Once again, Jonas laughed coldly. “So that’s the key to your grand plan, is it? Princess Lucia? I think you’ll be disappointed to see what a cold, vicious, bloodthirsty snake she’s become. Then again, she is a Damora, so perhaps you’ll be neither surprised nor disappointed.”

The old woman studied him. “Jonas, is it?”

“That’s my name.”

“My name is Selia.” She drew closer, the anger in her eyes now gone, as she took his hands in hers. “Stay with us and learn more about our plans. I agree with my son that, despite our differences, we can still work together. Try to see this logically. Together we are strong.”

Could she be right? “I don’t know . . .”

“Stay,” Cleo urged. “Please consider it, at least. For me.”

He met her earnest cerulean eyes with his. “Perhaps.”

Magnus stood up. “You suggest the rebels stay here?” he said accusingly to his grandmother. “In this very inn? That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“I disagree,” the king said. “My mother is right. We can find a compromise. A temporary one. We have the same enemy now.”

Without even being sure of whether he was about to agree or disagree with either Damora, Jonas opened his mouth to speak, when a roar of fury broke the relative stillness of the meeting hall.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Taran stormed into the meeting hall. In an instant, his furious gaze fixed upon Magnus.

Jonas’s dagger—the one the king had pulled from his chest—lay on the floor. As Jonas spotted it, so did Taran, who snatched it up in a heartbeat and closed the distance between him and the prince.

Taran arched the dagger at Magnus, but the prince caught Taran’s wrist before he made contact. Cleo let out a sharp shriek.