Magnus yanked his weapon back, letting Cronus drop fully to the ground as he hissed out his last breath.

The second guard grappled for his weapon, but Magnus got to him first, his bloodied sword nothing but a flash of metal in the flickering torchlight as he struck him. The confused guard dropped soundlessly and was dead before he hit the floor.

Magnus, muscles tense and blood dripping from his blade, studied the body for a moment. Slowly, he turned to look at the princess, who was staring at him with shock etched onto her face. A shriek finally escaped her throat as he raised his sword and hacked through the ropes above her head.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her across the room, kicking the door open.

“What are you—?”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Do not talk.”

“You killed them!”

He had had to. There was no other way this could have ended today. He’d run out of options. He’d gone against his father’s direct orders and murdered the king’s most trusted guard, whom Magnus had known since he was only a child.

Cronus would be missed, but he’d had to die. He wouldn’t have obeyed Magnus’s command to stand down over the king’s order to execute Cleo.

He closed the door behind them to hide the carnage inside and they hurried down the dank and narrow dungeon corridor.

Very few in the palace knew who was being held in that private cell. With the wedding soon to commence and servants and guards scurrying to accommodate the last-minute arrangements, Magnus reasoned that it could take hours before anyone would learn the truth.

He had some time. Not much, but he hoped that it would be enough.

They finally cleared the dungeon and were outside. Magnus turned to Cleo, who was staring up at the brilliant late-afternoon sky as if she’d never expected to see it again.

“You said you know where Lucia and Alexius have gone,” he said.

She nodded. “I must confess, it’s only a guess. But I’m certain it’s the right one.”

“Where?” When she didn’t answer right away, he took her by her arms and nearly shouted it. “Where?”

“Limeros,” she finally replied.

Limeros? His homeland was far from here; it would take days to reach by ship. “Why Limeros?”

Instead of gazing at him with gratitude for saving her life, Cleo glared at Magnus with her same old defiance. “Because the water Kindred can be claimed at the Temple of Valoria. Lucia told me this only today, just before the guards took me. If I’m right, and if Alexius wants more from Lucia than her hand in marriage, then that’s where I think they’re headed. And what better way to lure her away from her family than with the promise of eloping to the home she’s missed for months?”

Another crystal uncovered and ready to be claimed. Magnus’s gut told him Cleo was right about everything.

“Then that’s where we’re going,” he said firmly. “To Limeros.”

She gasped. “We?”

“Yes, princess. We.”

CHAPTER 28

NIC

AURANOS

Five hundred invited guests attended the wedding of Lord Gareth’s daughter, held at the Auranian palace—those of importance in this kingdom who’d pledged their loyalty to its new king, and those who’d made the journey here from Limeros. An invitation to such an important event could not be ignored.

Even Prince Ashur and Princess Amara were among those gathered for the ceremony of the plain girl in the elaborately beaded and embroidered gown. Her new husband was a thin but handsome young man from northern Limeros whose expression—which Nic couldn’t help but note from his position by the entrance of the throne room—was pinched as their vows were exchanged.

The banquet was to be held next in the great hall, a mass movement of the gathered from one large venue to the next, overseen by the palace guards.

Nic edged closer to the prince and princess of Kraeshia when he noticed that they moved against the flow of the crowd, like salmon swimming upstream.

“We’ve made our appearance for the ceremony,” Ashur informed one of his green-uniformed personal guards. “We wish to return to the villa. No need to extend our stay here any longer than absolutely necessary today. Likely, the king won’t even notice we’ve left.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Without another word, or even a glance in Nic’s direction, the Kraeshians quietly left through the nearest exit.

Lucky them.

Nic then went to stand sentry at the entrance of the great hall and wearily watched as the wedding guests ate heaps of food, listened to boring speeches, and toasted a bride and groom he couldn’t care less about.

Cleo was nowhere to be seen. At least one of them had managed to avoid what promised to be an endlessly painful evening.

King Gaius made his speech to the bride, orating about how he’d known her since she was a young girl, that she’d been as important to him as a second daughter. When the guests toasted the newlyweds, Nic had felt his bland and hastily eaten dinner churn unpleasantly at the insincerity of it all.

His speech complete, the king descended the dais. Nic watched as a guard approached him, leaning in close enough to speak confidentially.

On the king’s face, his perfect smile turned to stone.

He strode out of the hall without another word, the guard following dutifully behind him.

Clearly, he’d been given bad news.

Good, Nic thought darkly.

Shortly after this, Nic noticed several guards leaving their posts. Strange—the wedding would continue on until late that night and the king had insisted on extra protection. He didn’t want to risk repeating the death and destruction that had tarnished Cleo and Magnus’s wedding. But why was everyone leaving?