• • •
Phaedra’s death had been avenged. He’d completed his journey to the City of Gold. And he’d found his princess. As if she were a beacon calling out to him, it had taken barely any time at all to locate her in a city scrambling for safety in the wake of a rebel uprising.
Suddenly there she was, every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
Seeing Lucia again brought him more joy than he’d thought possible, which helped to balance the pain a little, but not nearly enough. He could never tell her the truth. No matter how much he wanted to, he could never warn her to stay away from him. It was impossible.
After recovering from her surprise, the princess took him to the palace.
Upon their arrival, a herd of guards immediately ushered Alexius and Lucia into the throne room, where both the king and Prince Magnus were waiting. The two turned to look at them as they entered.
Magnus was in front of Lucia in an instant, his expression one of anguish as he took hold of her arms.
“What happened?” he demanded. “One moment you were right there next to me, and the next you were gone. I thought you were dead!”
“By the looks of it,” the king said, “she’s very much alive. Not a scratch. I told you she could protect herself. I don’t know why you always refuse to believe me.”
Magnus kept his eyes on his sister. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I got lost in the crowd for a while, but I’m fine. All is well, brother.”
Finally he let go of her, his expression turning icy. “You should be more careful. You were standing too close to the edge of the platform. Anyone could have grabbed you.” His dark eyes shifted to the boy who stood silently at Lucia’s side. “And who are you?”
Lucia had told Alexius plenty about the prince in the time they’d spent together in her dreams. She’d felt comfortable enough with him to unburden her soul and tell him everything about her life, her family, her hopes and dreams. Her disappointments. Her problems. Her fears. Everything.
“Yes, Lucia,” the king said. He drew closer to them and waved his guards away for privacy. “Who is this boy?”
Alexius knew that Lucia was uncertain of what to say about him. She might be a powerful sorceress, but she was tentative when it came to her family.
“My name is Alexius,” he said, seeing that Lucia wouldn’t be providing introductions.
Magnus frowned, studying Alexius’s face as if it held the answer to a particularly difficult riddle. “I know this name. Why do I know this name?”
Alexius regarded the prince patiently. This boy was full of bluster, full of doubt and fear and pain. So sad to know that he’d imagined himself in love with Lucia, simply because she’d shown him the kindness that he didn’t receive anywhere else in his cold, lonely life.
He held no jealousy toward Lucia’s adopted brother, nor did he feel that Magnus was a challenge for Lucia’s affections. In fact, he pitied the prince.
And Magnus would be wise to stay out of his way.
“Alexius is important to me,” Lucia said, boldly hooking her arm through his.
Perhaps she wasn’t that tentative after all—at least not when it came to him. Melenia would be pleased to know that Alexius was already working his way back into the princess’s good graces after such a long absence.
“Important, is he?” the king echoed. “How so?”
Alexius couldn’t read King Gaius’s expression, but he knew enough not to underestimate him. The king would never allow Alexius anywhere near his daughter if he believed him to be nothing more than a suitor visiting from another land.
“Melenia sent me,” he said, pleased to see the king’s eyes immediately widen at mention of her name.
“Melenia?” Something sharp and dangerous then slid through his gaze, something that could easily intimidate someone less determined than Alexius. “What do you know of Melenia?”
Alexius loosened the ties on his shirt and bared his chest, showing the royal family his golden mark, the evidence of his heritage. And of his magic. The scars from Melenia’s spell had already healed and vanished, but they were still branded on his soul. “She sent me here because she has been unable to contact you. She apologizes for any confusion she may have caused you, but wants you to know that she holds true to her promises and, going forward, I am to be her representative in the mortal world.”
Magnus stared at him as if he were a six-legged, horned beast that had just walked into the room. “You’re a Watcher.”
“I was.” A flicker of pain distracted him—emotional, not physical, this time. Two thousand years he’d spent in the Sanctuary . . . and now the rest of his days were reduced to the lifespan of a regular mortal. He could no longer soar as a hawk. He could no longer dreamwalk, save for when Melenia called upon him.
If only it had been his choice to come here, rather than one made for him.
But it was done, and there was no turning back now.
“He’s telling the truth,” Lucia said. “When I was asleep for so long, he visited me in my dreams. He showed me his home.”
Magnus frowned at her. “You never told me this.”
“And when would I have told you?” she asked sharply. “You’ve been avoiding me like I have some horrible disease.”
“With something this important, I would have thought you’d seek me out.”
“I didn’t know for sure it was real. That he was real.”