Gathering Darkness

“As if you’re actually praying.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Spare me such accusatory glares,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen no sign that you’re devout in your religious beliefs. You’re the same as anyone in this hedonistic, self-centered kingdom. Your religion is nothing more than a series of pretty marble statues adorning gaudily ornate spaces.”

“You are entitled to your opinion.”

Her dismissive attitude would do nothing to help her cause tonight. “You come here to escape the palace even if it means you must be accompanied by a half-dozen guards. This is where you can think in private, perhaps about how best to destroy us.”

Cleo crossed her arms over the bodice of her gown. “Oh, so now you’re a mind reader, are you? It’s incredible that you have the talent to know exactly what’s in my thoughts at all times.”

“You’d be surprised what I know about your thoughts, princess.”

She assessed him with a single sweep of her eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“Am I?”

“You’re slurring your words.”

He wasn’t slurring anything. She likely said this only to wound him—a constant goal of hers. “Apologies for not making myself clear. I came in here to tell you this will be the last time you will be allowed here.”

She didn’t seem overly concerned by his proclamation. “The king told me I could come whenever I wanted.”

“I don’t care what the king told you.”

The princess raised her chin. “What right do you have to prevent me from doing something that has already been approved by your father?”

How obtuse she was being! He barked out a laugh. “What right? I’m your husband, princess. That gives me the right to stop you from doing anything that displeases me.”

She sighed. But Magnus could tell it was one of weariness rather than defeat. “By morning,” she said, “you’ll have forgotten all about this conversation. Tell me, how much did you drink? A gallon? Did you fall face-first into your wine and swim around for a while?”

“I see you’re attempting to change the subject.”

“I find that those who drink to excess wish to forget their troubles.”

“Oh, really? Is that what you do?”

She paused, seemingly undeterred by the jab. “I drink far less than I used to. I found it never led me to the places I wanted to be.”

“Oh, that’s right. It led you into Aron Lagaris’s bed, isn’t that right?”

Her expression soured. “How kind of you to remind me.”

“But alas, you won’t be finding yourself in his bed ever again. It would be a rather cold place to be now.”

He could tell she was fighting to keep her emotions in check, but her cheeks had gone very red. “You want me to leave, yet you don’t seem in any hurry to leave yourself. What’s out there you’re trying so hard to avoid?”

“Everything.” He said it without thinking, without meaning to.

She studied him carefully. “I think you’re drinking to forget about what happened to your mother.”

His chest tightened. “Shut your mouth.”

She swept her glance across the temple, which was empty but for the two of them. “You won’t believe me, but I understand the pain you feel. Your need for vengeance.”

Their conversations rarely got as personal as this. “I feel nothing of the sort.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t really care what you believe, princess. And I’m not looking for a friend.”

“Perhaps you should be. From what I’ve seen, you’ve no other friends to speak of.”

That she seemed to know him so well unnerved him. “I don’t need friends.”

She studied him for a silent, uncomfortable while, her brows drawing together. “You try so hard to be horrible, to be cruel, to remain detached from anything that might cause you pain. But I saw the look on your face as they dragged you away from the executions yesterday. You were frantic when Lucia went missing in the crowd. You thought she’d been hurt.”

The fact that she’d so easily noticed this weakness made him wince on the inside. “My sister can take care of herself, believe me. She was fine, only temporarily lost. And she returned to the palace not only unhurt but with a handsome new tutor in tow. How delightful for everyone.”

Cleo stood up and sat right next to Magnus. The gesture surprised him, but he didn’t let it show.

“I find you . . . deeply confusing,” Cleo said. “More so with every day that passes.”

“Some girls are easily confused.”

“Time and time again you prove yourself to be vile and disgusting and hateful.”

This coaxed a fresh laugh from him. They’d finally returned to more familiar ground. “Your opinion is irrelevant to me, princess.”

“You are all of those things.” She nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “But the more I think about you, the more of an enigma you become to me. Yesterday was only another example. Before that, you could have exposed me to your father as an eavesdropper, but you didn’t. You could have let that boy stab me in Limeros, but you stopped him. You defended me when Aron exposed my loss of chastity. The king would have cast me out otherwise. And you didn’t tell your father about the bridal dagger Prince Ashur gave me.”