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Lucia would become a sorceress able to channel all four parts of
elementia
: air, fire, water, and earth magic.
    The confusion of learning she was not his sister by blood, the relief that his unnatural desire for her was not truly one of the dark sins, and her look of disgust when he’d been unable to hold back his need to kiss her—all flowed through his mind now.
    Bright hope had been forever tainted by dark pain.
    Lucia loved him, but it was the love of a sister for her older brother; that was all. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
    And now, the thought that she’d sacrificed herself to help their father and might never wake up again . . .
    She
had
to wake up.
    His gaze flicked to the attendant, the Auranian girl whom Princess Cleo had insisted would be perfect for this placement.
    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    She was plump, but not unpleasantly so. Her soft curves showed that she was not a girl who’d experienced many hardships, despite now wearing the plain gray dress of a servant. “Mira Cassian, your grace.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Your brother is Nicolo Cassian.”
    “He is, your grace.”
    “In Paelsia, he threw a rock at my head and then rendered me unconscious with the hilt of a sword. He could have killed me.”
    A tremor went through her. “I’m very grateful my brother did you no lasting harm, your grace.” She blinked, her eyes meeting his. “I haven’t seen him in weeks. Does—does my brother still live?”
    “He certainly deserved to die for what he did, don’t you think?”
    He had not shared this story with many. Nicolo Cassian had attacked Magnus to get him to unhand Cleo after he’d killed Theon. It had been Magnus’s duty to bring the princess back to Limeros so the king could use her as a bargaining chip against her father. He’d failed and instead woken up alone, surrounded by corpses and bitter defeat.
    Nic now toiled in the stables, knee deep in the filth of horses and not allowed to enter the castle. The boy should be eternally thankful that Magnus had not demanded his life.
    He turned his back on Mira and focused instead on Lucia. He didn’t hear the door open, but it wasn’t long before the shadow of his father fell upon him.
    “You’re angry with me for my announcement today,” the king said. It was not a question.
    Magnus gritted his teeth and measured his reply before speaking. “I was . . . surprised. The girl hates me and I feel only apathy for her in return.”
    “There is no need for love or even affection to play any part in a marriage. This is a union of necessity only, of political strategy.”
    “I know this.”
    “We will find you a mistress able to give you every pleasure lacking in your marriage. A courtesan, perhaps.”
    “Perhaps,” Magnus allowed.
    “Or perhaps you’d prefer a pretty little servant to attend to your every need.” The king flicked a look toward Mira, who smartly stayed to the back of the room and out of earshot. “Speaking of pretty little servants, do you remember the kitchen maid who caused us some difficulties back home? The one with the tendency for spying. What was her name? Amia?”
    Amia had been a casual dalliance of Magnus’s, as well as a pair of ears eager to listen for palace gossip. She would have done anything for the prince. Such loyalty had gotten her tortured and whipped, but even then she hadn’t revealed her ties to him. But why would his father have bothered remembering her name?
    “I seem to recall. What about her?”
    “She ran away from the castle. Probably thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.”
    She’d run away because Magnus had sent her away with enough coin to start a new life somewhere else. “Is that so?”
    The king leaned over to brush the dark hair back from Lucia’s face. “I sent some men after her. The news has reached me that they found her easily with a bag of gold she’d stolen from us. Of course, they executed her immediately.” His attention then