Rebel Spring

Her gaze frantically skimmed her familiar room, searching for anything that might help her. “What am I to think with you here? There was a time you wanted to kill me.”

“Believe me, if I were here to end your life, you’d already be dead. I wanted to see for myself how much you’ve been taken in by them now that you’re betrothed to the prince. I witnessed the announcement. Despite the rough beginning, it looks like you’ve been accepted into the king’s family with open arms. How nice for you.”

Nausea coursed through her gut that he’d think this; that anyone would think this. “You think I’d welcome the inclusion to such an evil family?”

“I don’t know.” He studied her carefully. “Maybe.”

He believed her allied with the vipers themselves. The thought was so foreign that she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Venom coated her next words. “I shouldn’t have to defend myself to someone like you. What do I care what you think?”

Jonas pressed her harder up against the wall, making her gasp. “I know you think I’m nothing more than a Paelsian savage.”

She refused to look away from him. “Are you denying it?”

“I’m no savage, your highness. I’m a rebel.” He said it as if he was proud of it. Like it should impress her.

“If that’s true, then it’s only a matter of time before your head finds its way onto a spike just like your rebel friends.”

He flinched at the mention of the executions. “Perhaps. But at least I’m attempting to change things.”

“By sneaking into my chambers and trying to bully me? I think I have my share of bullies in this palace to deal with already. I’ll say it one more time: let go of me.”

Finally, he did as she asked and stepped back. He watched her warily, as if he expected she’d immediately flee to the door and call for the guard. Part of her was tempted to do just that.

Instead, she watched him back just as warily. She couldn’t deny that in looks alone, Jonas Agallon was very attractive. Black hair, dark eyes, deeply tanned skin from working outdoors like most Paelsians. A tall, muscular body with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Beneath the dark gray cloak he wore, his clothes were dusty, torn, and simple, but he held himself like no peasant she’d ever seen before.

There was an arrogance to this boy that was similar to that of Prince Magnus—despite their vastly different upbringings. Jonas’s eyes weren’t as cold and serpentine as the prince’s, but they were still sharp and dangerous. They looked as if they could pierce right through her and pin her to the wall as easily as he’d done with his body.

There was a time not so long ago that he’d looked at her as if she was a hateful, spoiled creature who needed to die. Now there was a great deal of suspicion in his gaze, but also an edge of interest, as if he was curious about her plans now that she was betrothed to the son of her greatest enemy.

“Are you aligned with King Gaius?” Jonas asked again, his words harsh.

He was the rudest person she’d ever met. Ruder, possibly, than Prince Magnus himself. “How dare you enter my private chambers and demand answers like this? I’ll tell you nothing.”

His hands fisted at his sides and his glare intensified. “Princess, you could make this easier for me.”

“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. Because you’ve always been such a good friend to me.”

Her sardonic tone coaxed the barest edge of a smile to his lips. “I could be a good friend.”

She went completely silent for a moment. “How?”

“That depends entirely on you, your highness.”

Jonas used the title as an insult, with no respect implied whatsoever, just as he had when he’d taken her captive in Paelsia. This much had not changed. “Talk quickly, or soon you’ll be trapped in the palace with no chance for escape. The guards will begin patrolling the courtyard very soon now that night has fallen.”

Jonas swept his gaze through the small room, coming to rest on the canopied bed. “Then I would have to stay here for the night, wouldn’t I? Would you help to hide me away under your covers?”

She ignored the heat that touched her cheeks at the suggestion. “Continue speaking nonsense and your time continues to drain away. Talk. Now.”

“Always issuing orders. Is that what a princess who’s lost her kingdom still does—or the future bride of Prince Magnus? Does it make you feel powerful to boss me around?”

“Enough of this.” She turned toward the door and opened her mouth as if to shout.

Jonas was behind her in an instant, his hand coming over her mouth, his arm across her chest to pull her tightly back against his body. “Summon the guards and I’ll tell them I’m your secret lover. What would Prince Magnus think about that? Would he be jealous?”

She bit his hand hard enough to taste blood. He pulled away from her, his eyes wide with pain even as a grin curled up the corner of his mouth.

Cleo wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You need to know one thing. I don’t care what Prince Magnus thinks, nor will I ever. I hate him and I hate his father. No matter what happens to me, that much will never change.”

“You want to destroy them.”

It wasn’t a question. Cleo just stared at him, unblinking. Unspeaking. Admitting anything at all to this boy felt far too dangerous.

But he didn’t seem to need any confirmation. He nodded once. “I told you that day in the crowd to be ready. It’s time, princess. I need your help.”