was exposed and thrown in the dungeon.
“So you’re Leonidas’s newest stray pet,” Milo sneered at me.
Anger spurted through me at being called a bloody pet, but Crown Prince Milo outranked Lady Armina, so I kept a bland smile fixed on my face.
Milo leaned forward, as though he was imparting some great secret to me. “Leonidas likes to invite people to the palace. Commoners, mostly. People with little magic and dubious talents that they peddle as high art. Paint masters, sculptors, minstrels, even a few so-called poets.” He shuddered, as though the last word was the most horrific thing he had ever encountered.
Milo leaned back and waved his hand in an airy, dismissive motion. “People with small, trite skills that Leonidas thinks are more important and valuable than they truly are. They all tend to leave the palace rather quickly.” A cruel light glinted in his eyes. “Especially the women. I suppose my brother isn’t particularly talented in certain areas himself.”
Beside me, Leonidas stiffened, and his anger spiked through my mind. “I invite artisans to the palace so that the nobles, merchants, and everyone else can see the best of what Morta has to offer. Those paint masters, sculptors, minstrels, and so-called poets are our kingdom’s future, and they should be treated and nurtured as such.”
Milo sneered at his brother the same way he had at me. “People making cheap trinkets and composing ridiculous songs isn’t going to help Morta’s standing among the other kingdoms.”
“What do you think will help Morta’s standing?”
The question popped out of my mouth before I could stop it, although the second the words came out, I cursed my own foolishness. Stupid, stupid, Gemma! My tongue and my temper had gotten the better of me, the way they so often did.
Milo’s eyes narrowed, and he studied me more closely. My heart quickened with dread. If he recognized me, then I wouldn’t leave this table alive.
And he wasn’t the only one staring. Corvina and Emperia were both peering at me, while Delmira was looking at me with wide eyes. Even Maeven was studying me, her lips puckered in thought.
Milo shrugged. “Building up our army and navy. Breeding larger and more aggressive and vicious strixes. Coming up with new ways to defend our borders, expand our holdings, and assert ourselves.”
And my new weapon. Once again, I didn’t have to reach out with my magic. His thought slammed into my mind like a tidal wave, along with smaller ripples of smug satisfaction that made my stomach churn.
A weapon? Oh, I knew Milo hadn’t stolen all that tearstone just to make jewelry with it, but his unrelenting smugness gave me the sense he was thinking about something far more dangerous than typical swords, daggers, and shields. What new horror had he created?
“Well, I agree with Leonidas.” Delmira waded into the dangerous conversational waters. “Inviting artisans to Myrkvior is a wonderful idea.”
Milo snorted and gave another dismissive hand wave. “What would you know about art or anything else? You barely have enough magic to fill a teacup.”
Delmira’s eyes narrowed, and she sucked in a breath as if to deliver some insult. Milo arched an eyebrow and stared at his sister, clearly daring her to say something. Delmira’s gaze flicked to Corvina and Emperia, who were now sneering at her instead of me.
The princess just . . . wilted, much the same way Corvina had earlier under Maeven’s icy glower. Delmira’s face twisted into a defeated, miserable expression, her shoulders sagged, and she dropped her head, although not before I saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.
Why do I have to be so bloody weak? So broken? Why can’t I be strong like Mother always is?
Her thoughts whispered in my mind, and I thought of the testing table in her chambers. It seemed as though the princess was still trying to find her magic, as well as her place in the palace.
Sympathy flooded my heart, washing away the nauseating feel of Milo’s cruel smugness. Below the table, out of sight of the others, I reached over and squeezed her hand. Delmira didn’t lift her head, but she curled her fingers into mine.
Milo turned his attention back to me. “And what magic or skills do you have, Lady Armina?”
“I make jewelry.”
“What kind of jewelry?” Corvina’s eyes brightened with interest. “Are you a metalstone master?”
“I have a small bit of metalstone magic. It helps me shape the pieces, although I’m not strong enough to actually infuse my magic into the gems.”
It was the same