“So philosophical. For your information, I looked surprised about your betrothal to Laelia only because I recently discovered that Gaius Damora isn’t my father by blood. He had me kidnapped because of my prophecy. My real father was Chief Basilius. Laelia is my sister.”
Jonas blinked. “I’m surprised you’d share this with me.”
“Why? We’re making conversation, and such a secret doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
His brows drew together. “So you’re Paelsian.”
She laughed weakly. “That is all you take from that revelation?”
Jonas swore under his breath as he studied her face. “You actually look like her, now that I’m paying attention. Like Laelia. Same blue eyes, same hair color. Fewer snakes, though. And you’re so pale right now. You really aren’t feeling well, are you?”
“Not at all.”
“So is it a sorceress thing, this quick pregnancy? All that elementia inside you?”
“I think it has more to do with my visit to the Sanctuary. The quickness happened only after I returned to Paelsia.”
He regarded her with shock. “You’ve been to the Sanctuary? The actual Sanctuary where the immortals live?”
She nodded. “Briefly. A Watcher named Timotheus has been tolerating my existence because of my prophecy. Sometimes he visits my dreams. I knew I needed to see him, to ask for his help. To be honest, he wasn’t all that helpful.” Jonas’s shoulders had stiffened at the name. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Timotheus, you said?”
“He has visions . . . about me, about this world, and about his world. But he’s secretive about the visions that have to do with me.”
“I’m sure he is.” Jonas’s expression was unreadable. She wasn’t sure if he was fascinated by what she was saying or bored out of his mind.
“Anyway . . .” Lucia gazed around at the large village that the cart had entered, hopeful that this journey would soon end. “He hasn’t visited my dreams even once since I returned here. Either he can’t do that anymore or he’s leaving me to discover my fate by myself. As you said, it might already be decided without any input from me.”
Jonas didn’t reply to this, and it was some time before he said another word. “The father of your child . . . was he good or evil?”
She was about to say that that was a strange question, but given that she already knew Jonas perceived her as nothing but evil, she decided his question was valid enough.
“I believe Alexius was good, but he was manipulated to do evil by another. He was commanded to take my life, and when the time came, he refused and took his own.”
“He sacrificed himself for you.”
Bringing up memories of Alexius made the pain in her belly shift to her heart. She tried to think of him as little as possible to avoid any pangs of remorse or grief about the immortal.
“He fought against the magic that forced him to move me from place to place like a piece upon a game board. He taught me more about my own magic. He even taught me how to steal the magic from others to weaken them. I didn’t know why he did this at the time, but in the end . . . I understood. He was teaching me how to kill an immortal.”
“You killed an immortal by stealing all of his magic?”
“No, I killed an immortal by stealing all of her magic.”
Jonas absently rubbed his chest. “Do you think I might learn how to do that? Steal magic?”
“That doesn’t sound like something I should teach someone who despises me. Besides, for all I know, that mark you showed me is the result of ink.”
“It’s not.” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t know . . . on the ship I was able to use the magic in me a little. Not much, but even now I feel it inside of me pressing outward. It’s like it’s trying to get out, but I don’t know how to release it—or if I even want to.”
“My own magic was difficult to grasp after it awakened within me. Perhaps you simply need to be patient.”
“Yes, of course, because there’s plenty of time to be patient with an empress and a god of fire to contend with. Brilliant suggestion, princess.” He stood up as the cart came to a halt. “We’ve arrived.”
Lucia tore her glare from the rebel to realize that she recognized the city they’d entered: Basilia. She scanned the busy streets and could smell the foul stench of Trader’s Harbor from here. “My brother and father are here?”
“They were the last time I saw them.” Jonas jumped down from the cart and offered Lucia his hand. She glanced at it with uncertainty. “Come now, princess, I haven’t brought you this far to let you fall on your face, especially not in your delicate condition.”
“I’m not delicate.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged but didn’t lower his hand.
Grudgingly, she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her down off the cart.
“Do you need a meal?” he asked. “There’s a tavern nearby where you can meet your blood sister, and I don’t think you’ve eaten today.”
The memory of Laelia only brought back unpleasant memories. “I’ve seen her before, and there’s no time for meals. I want to see my family.”
“Fine.” He frowned. “You didn’t tell me you already met Laelia.”
“How do you think I learned who I am?”