It was as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest. Then, close on the heels of his fear for her safety, came a hot line of rage that she’d do this, blatantly ignoring his warnings.
The king had to be told. And Theon knew he had to be the one to deliver the news that Cleo and Nic had disappeared from the palace.
That was when he began to feel another glimmer of fear. This time for himself.
“How could you let this happen?” the king raged, his face bright red with anger.
Theon had no worthy answer. He knew Cleo wanted to do this. He knew she was stubborn and single-minded when it came to her sister’s fading health. He should have anticipated this.
“I’ll go to Paelsia myself and search for her.”
“Damn right you will.” There were dark shadows beneath the king’s eyes as if he hadn’t slept well. He looked much older than his forty-odd years today. “Of all the things I need to concern myself with, this only troubles me more. You were supposed to keep her safe. You failed me.”
Theon could argue that he couldn’t be by Cleo’s side all the hours of the day or night apart from sleeping in the princess’s bed with her, but he held his tongue and studied the floor obediently. King Corvin was not a cruel king, but he doled out punishment when necessary. Failing an assignment to keep the princess safe was not something that could go unanswered.
Why would she ever do something so foolhardy as this?
Even he didn’t have to think too far on the subject. She did it because she was absolutely convinced that she could save her sister’s life by chasing after the legend of an exiled Watcher. Breaking every rule to save Princess Emilia was both idiotic...and brave. Pure-hearted and courageous. Only Cleo would do such a thing, Theon thought.
“I’ll leave immediately,” he said, his eyes still lowered. “With your permission I’ll take a few more men.”
“No more than two. We don’t want to draw attention to this embarrassing situation.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
When the king didn’t say anything else, Theon looked up to see that his face was now more pale and haunted than angry.
“Sometimes I feel as if I’m cursed,” he said softly. “A slow, hungry curse that has worked its way across my entire life, stripping me of everything I love.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “I met a witch once...in my youth. She was very beautiful.”
Theon was surprised at the seeming non sequitur. “A witch? A real one?”
The king nodded with a sharp jerk of his head. “I hadn’t believed in magic until I met her. She had her sights set on becoming my queen, but I . . . well, I met Elena, and that was it for me. The witch was but a momentary dalliance of a youth who enjoyed the attentions of pretty girls before his wedding to the woman who would become the true love of his life.” He let out a slow exhale. “When I ended things with this witch, she was furious. I believe she cursed me. I lost my beloved Elena moments after she’d given my youngest daughter life. Now Emilia is so unwell. I fear Cleo was right when she said she’s dying. And Cleo herself—” His voice broke. “She has a mind of her own, one that will get her into trouble. More than she even realizes. You must find her.”
“I will, your majesty. I swear I will.”
“See that you do.” The king raised a dark gaze to Theon’s and a chill went down his spine. “Fail me again and you’ll pay with your life. I’ll kill you myself with my bare hands. Do you understand me?”
Theon nodded. He expected no less. He left the meeting room, his steps rushed, his heart beating hard.
He should have said he’d go with the princess. She was stubborn enough to go by herself—with only Nicolo Cassian to protect her. But he was no more than the king’s squire, with no training, no strength, no carefully honed survival instincts. It wasn’t nearly enough. Theon was the one who should be by Princess Cleo’s side no matter what was to come. Today and always.
The king would kill him if he failed. And if something happened to Cleo...he’d want to die. The thought of her bright eyes extinguished, her merry laugh silenced . . . he broke into a cold sweat and had to lean his forehead against the marble wall of the hallway.
I’m falling in love with her.
The realization hit him like a sword plunged through his chest.
There could be no real future for them. He wasn’t royal—not even a knight. And she was already betrothed to another.
But he’d seen something in her eyes—a joyful alertness when they argued. A catch to her breath. A flush to her cheeks. He’d come to enjoy spending time with her more than he ever would have believed or been willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted to be by her side and not only as her bodyguard.
He wanted her.
But he couldn’t give in to these feelings. Even admitting them to himself was dangerous. For now, all Theon knew for sure was that he would find her and bring her back safely to Auranos. The future was uncertain, but this much was crystal clear. He would not fail.
The king had summoned Magnus to his throne room.
Goddess forbid that his father actually visited his son’s chambers. No, instead he had to be summoned quite officially like a servant.
Irrelevant.
He took his time to arrive. He would obey, of course. He had no other choice, but even with the king’s seemingly newfound appreciation for his son’s existence, Magnus wouldn’t rush to do so.
He had spent two days with Lucia coaching her on a variety of exercises to help hone her control and skill. A lot of it seemed to depend on his sister’s fluctuating emotions. When they argued—especially about the subject of her suitors that Magnus tried to discourage—her rising temper helped bring forth her magic. When her confidence wavered, it faded.