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.”
The thought was absurd. “You need my help?”
“The rebels need information about the Damoras. Their plans, their schemes. And this road—the one the king announced during his speech. Did you know he’s butchering entire villages and enslaving Paelsians to help him build it as quickly as possible? It means something to him, this road. Something important. Something beyond what anyone else believes it to mean.”
Butchering villages? She felt the blood drain from her face. “What?”
“That’s what I want you to find out. I want you to be my spy.”
For a moment, she couldn’t seem to form words. “What you’re asking could get me killed.”
“The very act of breathing could get you killed. Same for anyone else. You might be trapped here, but you’ve been given great privilege. The king underestimates how deep your hatred for him flows. He doesn’t know what you’re capable of.”
Cleo did fully mean to destroy the king and everyone who had aligned with him in order to reclaim her throne. She would not stand by and see her people—or any people from any land, for that matter—abused and enslaved by this man.
But could she be a spy for Jonas? Could she net him the information he was looking for to help the rebel cause?
Perhaps she could.
She would have to give this more thought. And she could not think with the rebel here in her presence.
“I need to consider my options,” she said quietly. Not that she had many to consider.
Jonas cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Princess, you need to—”
“I need to do nothing, not when it’s something that involves you. You thought to barge into my chambers, wait for me in the dark, and expect me to be drooling at the very idea of working together to defeat the king? You may underestimate me, but you vastly overestimate yourself.” She didn’t want to say no to him, but she couldn’t say yes, either. Not yet. “I don’t trust you. I will never trust you, Jonas Agallon.”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you denying me?”