The king nodded. “I want you to come with us. Your magic was foreseen to be more powerful than anything the world has witnessed in a millennium. Your magic is the key to our success. Without you, there are no guarantees that we’ll survive.”
She swallowed hard. “You want me to use my magic to help you conquer Auranos.”
“Only if absolutely necessary. But we will inform them that we have a very powerful weapon at the ready. Perhaps then they will back down without a fight.”
“I’m not sure this is entirely wise,” Magnus finally said. “The prophecy could still be wrong. Perhaps Lucia is just another witch.”
Magnus’s voice was so cold, so detached, it sent a chill racing down her spine. He made it sound like an insult. Like something easily discarded. She watched him, and his eyes flicked to her for a second before they moved away.
He hated her now.
“You’re wrong. But, of course, the ultimate choice is up to Lucia,” the king said. “I believe with all my heart that she’s the key to our success or failure. To our life or death.”
Lucia’s love for Magnus would never die, no matter how cold he now tried to make himself appear. She would do anything to keep him safe. Even if he was cruel. Even if he hated her now until the day he died.
“I’ll go with you,” she said firmly after a long silence passed. “And I’ll do everything in my power to help you defeat Auranos.”
The combined forces of Limerian and Paelsian foot soldiers marched across the border of Auranos.
A little less than three months ago, Jonas had stood at this very border planning to make a forbidden crossing so he could extract vengeance for his brother’s death. The threat of Auranian border guards executing him on the spot was the same danger he’d faced when poaching with his brother.
But today, no mere border guards attempted to stop the invasion of five thousand strong. They had retreated to join the main Auranian force a few miles inland.
“Nice armor on the Limerians, huh?” Brion commented as he and Jonas marched side by side. They hadn’t been given horses like many of their countrymen. Instead, the chief had given them the task to keep an eye out for any stragglers and to ensure that everyone continued to move forward toward their destination. Brion likened this to being dogs trained to keep sheep properly herded.
“Very shiny,” Jonas agreed.
The Limerians were much better equipped than the Paelsians. He could spot most Paelsian recruits from fifty feet away. No helmet. No armor. And if a recruit held a sword, it was one that appeared rusty or blunt. Or, more likely, the Paelsians carried cruder weaponry carved from wood and studded with spikes. Still worked well enough to beat down an enemy, but it was far from perfect.
“Have you stopped obsessing about Princess Cleo yet?” Brion asked.
Jonas shot him a withering look. “I’m not obsessing.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m not.”
“Didn’t see her myself. Who knows? Maybe she was worth obsessing about. Gorgeous blonde, right?”
The mention of the princess had stripped any brightness from Jonas’s current mood. “Close your mouth.”
“Just remember, Laelia wants you back safe and sound, so try not to think too much of the princess. Got to get back to your betrothed as soon as possible.”
Jonas grimaced. “I never agreed to any marriage.”
“Good luck telling the chief. He’s already picking out your wedding gift.”
Jonas couldn’t help but grin just a little, despite the subject matter not being remotely amusing to him. He had no intention of ever marrying Laelia Basilius.
But Brion was right about one thing. He had been obsessing about Princess Cleo ever since he returned home to find that she’d escaped from the shed, her rescuers rendering Felicia’s husband and two of her friends unconscious. They were lucky they hadn’t been killed. Felicia had been furious about the entire situation and swore she’d never forgive Jonas for getting her involved. It would take time for her to cool off.
By now, the princess was very likely back behind the Auranian palace walls, safe and sound. The golden-haired viper was full of surprises.
Jonas cast another glance over the men who surrounded him. Some from Paelsia were as young as twelve years old. Not men at all. And the numbers weren’t nearly equitable. There were far more Limerians here. Probably three of them to every Paelsian.
Brion raked a hand through his messy hair. “Tomas would be proud his death has caused this kind of uprising. He would have liked to be here to help us destroy these greedy Auranians.”
“Right.” But Jonas wasn’t so sure. He’d been thinking way too much, ever since the meeting with King Corvin. The moment he’d looked at King Gaius and questioned his motivation—questioned why he’d split Auranos with the chief. Something about that interaction rang true to him.
King Gaius wasn’t to be trusted.
Jonas’s hatred toward Auranian royals drove his desire to crush those who lived here, to take what was theirs so his land could prosper—and that was what the Limerian king offered. He focused on following orders and marching like everyone else, eyes forward on the path ahead.
But something still bothered him. Confusion wasn’t a new development for him, but at a time like this, when he’d pledged his life to the defeat of another land, he’d like to fully believe in the core reasons for the battle. He wanted the pure clarity he’d had before.