which was much too stiff and restrictive for such a warm day.
Standing with the king were Prince Ashur, a visitor from across the sea who had by now far outstayed his welcome in this kingdom, and a beautiful girl Magnus didnât recognize.
âYes, Father?â Magnusâs sheer hatred for the man before him caused his throat to constrict. He fought with all his strength to not let that hatred show on the surface.
Not here. Not yet.
âIâd like to introduce you to Princess Amara Cortas of the Kraeshian Empire. The princess has joined her brother Ashur as our most honored guests. Princess, I present my son and the heir to my throne, Prince Magnus Lukas Damora.â
How Magnus wished he were anywhere else. Meeting new people and appearing cordial was such an unpleasant chore, even when he was in a relatively good mood. Which he wasnât.
Magnus tipped his goblet to the Kraeshian siblings.
He had heard rumors of Princess Amaraâs beauty, and now he saw all of them proven to be true. Her pitch-black hair was swept up into a tight coil at the back of her long, graceful neck; her skin was as dark and as flawless as her brotherâs and her eyes a pale, silvery blue to match his.
Magnus forced a smile and bowed his head. âAn honor, princess.â
âNo,â Princess Amara said, âit is
my
honor to have been welcomed into your fatherâs palace so graciously after giving barely any notice at all of my arrival.â
âMy sister is full of surprises.â Ashurâs deep voice held the edge of a Kraeshian accent, just as his sisterâs did. âEven
I
wasnât made aware of her arrival until late last night.â
âI missed you terribly,â she said. âI couldnât bear to wait until you decided to return home. You left us with no idea of how long youâd be gone.â
âI like Mytica,â he replied. âSuch a charming little cluster of kingdoms.â
Magnus noticed the slightest twitch in the kingâs cheek at the word
little.
Perhaps Prince Ashur had not meant it to sound dismissive, but . . .
It sounded dismissive.
âYouâre both welcome to stay in my little kingdom for as long as you like,â King Gaius said, his tone free of any noticeable animosity.
One thing Magnus endlessly admired about his father was how he always managed to slather on the charm when necessary. It was a talent Magnus had yet to acquire.
âWhere has your lovely wife gone?â Princess Amara asked Magnus now. âI only had a chance to meet her briefly, when I first arrived.â
Now, there was a word that made Magnusâs cheek twitch.
Wife
. He glanced around the crowded banquet hall, at the several hundred guests seated at long tables, mounds of food and drink set before them, swarms of servants ensuring no glass was fully emptied. A quintet of musicians played their instruments in one corner like a cluster of noisy crickets.
How different this was from the austere ways of Limeros, where there were few parties and it was rare to ever hear the sound of music. And how swiftly his father had altered his previous tastes and interests, adapting to new laws and rules in order to blend in with his surroundings. He was deceptive: a chameleon hiding in plain sight.
Magnus supposed it was easier to adapt to Auranian ways than to force a newly conquered kingdom to change their lives overnight. That would only lead to more rebellion than his father already had to contend with, and the Limerian army was spread thin across the entire continent.
It was all going according to the kingâs plan.
Or perhaps his father had begun to enjoy music and banquets and golden thrones more than heâd ever admit out loud.
âMy wife? I donât know where she is,â Magnus replied, taking a sip of his wine and beckoning a serving girl over to refill his goblet. He looked around the room again. All the faces blended together, and