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somewhere.”
    â€œGood,” Jonas said, deeply amused at the outraged look on Lys’s face. “It seems we’ll be ready and unrecognizable in no time. Let’s get going.”

CHAPTER 3
    CLEO
    LIMEROS
    H er sister, Emilia, once said that she could tell Cleo’s mood by the state of her left thumbnail. Whenever Cleo was stressed or upset, she chewed it down to the quick. According to her nursemaid, she’d also sucked her thumb many years longer than the average child, so Cleo supposed that her nail-biting habit was a natural evolution.
    A quick, sharp pain tugged at Cleo’s scalp. “Ouch!” she exclaimed, pulling her sore thumb away from her mouth.
    She saw her attendant Petrina’s eyes widen in the mirror. The girl held a small swath of Cleo’s long blond hair. “Oh, your grace, I apologize! I didn’t intend to . . . I’ve never attempted this sort of style before.”
    â€œRipping my hair out by its roots is not the best way to learn,” Cleo said, her scalp still throbbing. She willed herself to be patient with Petrina, even though she was certain that even Nic could do a better job plaiting her hair.
    How she wished Nerissa were here in Limeros, rather than being at the Auranian palace. Nerissa wasn’t just a good friendand Cleo’s main connection to Jonas Agallon, but she was also an incredibly skilled attendant.
    â€œI don’t know what to say, your highness. The prince will be furious if he learns I’m inept. He’ll have me punished!”
    â€œThe prince won’t punish you,” Cleo assured her, patting her hand. “I won’t let him.”
    The girl looked at the princess with awe. “You must be the bravest person in the world if you can stand up to someone as strong and . . . determined as him. I admire you more than you know.”
    Perhaps Petrina wasn’t so stupid after all. She seemed a very good judge of character. For a Limerian.
    â€œWe should stand up to brutish boys whenever we can,” Cleo said. “They need to learn they don’t hold all the power, no matter who they are. Or
think
they are.”
    â€œPrince Magnus scares me. He reminds me so much of the king.” Petrina shivered, then bit her bottom lip. “Apologies. It’s inappropriate of me to admit these thoughts to you.”
    â€œNonsense. You absolutely must feel free to speak your mind around me. I insist.” Even though Cleo wouldn’t keep this uncoordinated girl as her attendant, she knew it was best to make friends wherever she could find them. “In fact, if you ever hear any news or information around the palace that you think I should know about, come to me immediately. I promise to keep every secret.”
    Petrina’s face whitened. “Are you asking me to spy for you, your grace?”
    â€œNo!” Cleo covered her immediate alarm with a bright smile. Nerissa was always happy to spy—she took to it as naturally as breathing. “Of course not. What a silly suggestion.”
    â€œThe king has always dealt harshly with spies. It’s said he cuts their eyes out and feeds them to his dogs.”
    Nausea rose within Cleo and she fought to hold on to herpleasant expression. “I’m sure that’s only a rumor. Anyway, you may be excused now.”
    â€œBut your hair—”
    â€œIt’s fine as it is. Really. Thank you.”
    Petrina curtseyed and left without further protest. Alone now in front of the mirror, Cleo studied her reflection, dismayed to see that her hair was a mess of half-finished braids and tangles at the back of her head. After working on it unsuccessfully for a few moments with the brush, she gave up.
    â€œI need Nerissa,” she said aloud to herself.
    Not only for her skills as an attendant, but also because Cleo needed to know if she’d received any word from Jonas. In Cleo’s last correspondence with the rebel,