[English] FALLING KINGDOMS (Vương Quốc Suy Tàn)

Falling Kingdoms
Page 20



Ioannes transformed back into his body once he returned to the Sanctuary and opened his eyes, staring up at the constant blue sky that never shifted to night.

“I was right,” he whispered.

He’d watched over the dark-haired princess for years, waiting for a sign. In recent months he’d despaired that he was wrong and had been following a girl who held no magic within her.

But he hadn’t been.

A sorceress had finally been born to lead them back to their former glory. The magic that he’d witnessed pour from the girl’s very being tonight held no equal in the mortal world—nor in the immortal one.

“You were right about what?” someone asked.

Ioannes tensed and sat up to find that even Watchers were watched. It was another elder, Danaus. While all Watchers held the same eternal youth, the same level of beauty, Ioannes had always felt that there was something slightly dark and sinister about Danaus lurking just beneath the surface.

Danaus had never done anything that went beyond the unspoken rules of the Sanctuary. But there was still...something. Something that Ioannes didn’t trust.

“I was right that spring is soon to come,” he said. “I sensed it even in frozen Limeros.”

“Spring comes every year in the mortal world.”

“Yet it’s always a miracle.”

Danaus’s lips thinned. “A true miracle will be to find the answers we seek after so many centuries.”

“Impatient, are we?”

“If I was still capable of taking flight in the mortal world, I think we’d already know where the Kindred is.”

“Then it’s truly a shame that you can’t.” Only the younger Watchers were able to transform into hawks or—much more rarely—visit the dreams of mortals. Once Watchers moved beyond a certain age, they lost these abilities forever. “You could always physically leave this realm.”

“And never return?” Danaus smiled thinly. “Would that please you, Ioannes?”

“Of course not. But I’m saying it’s an option if you grow weary of waiting for the rest of us to find the answers.”

Danaus picked up a leaf that had fallen from an oak tree. The leaf was not green with life but brown. It was a small but disturbing sign that the Sanctuary was fading. There was no autumn here, when leaves would naturally die. Only summer. Only daylight. Eternally.

At least, until the Kindred was lost. The fade had taken many centuries to begin, but it finally had.

“You would tell me if you’d seen something of importance,” Danaus said. It was not a question. “Anything that could return the Kindred to its rightful place.”

It seemed ludicrous to think something dark about an elder, but Ioannes was not that young and not that naive. He remembered when two of his kind had turned their backs on the Sanctuary, killing the last sorceress and stealing what was so priceless and essential to their existence. They had given in to their greed. To their lust for power. Ultimately, it had destroyed them. And now their actions, so many years ago, had the potential to destroy everything.

Who was to say that they were the only ones who could not be trusted?

“Of course, Danaus.” Ioannes nodded. “I will tell you anything I learn, no matter how small it might seem.”

It was not in a Watcher’s nature to lie, but he felt he had no choice.

What he’d discovered had to be protected. At any cost.

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It had been a long night, and Jonas knew he wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep.

First, he’d gone to Sera’s grandmother’s home and looked in the window, through a small opening in the worn canvas covering, to prove to himself that it couldn’t possibly be Princess Cleiona that Sera spoke of. Ever since he’d left the tavern, he’d doubted his own instincts.

The golden-haired girl slept upon a straw mattress by the fireplace, her eyes closed, her face peaceful.

It was her.

Fury burned inside him. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to barge into the cottage, wrap his hands around her royal throat, and squeeze until he witnessed the life slowly fade from her eyes. Maybe then he could rest. Maybe then he could feel that his brother’s murder had been avenged in some small way.

Such a moment of pure vengeance would taste so sweet. But it would be over too soon. Instead, he rode hard to the chief’s camp and told him about Princess Cleo’s unexpected presence in Paelsia.

The chief hadn’t seemed to care. “What difference does it make if some rich and spoiled child decides to explore my land?”

“But she’s the Auranian princess,” Jonas argued. “She could have been sent here by her father as a spy.”

“A sixteen-year-old spy? Who’s also a princess? Please. She’s harmless.”

“I strongly disagree.”

The chief eyed him curiously. “Then what do you suggest?”

An excellent question. And one he’d considered since confirming Cleo’s identity. How bold and disrespectful she was—this princess who saw no harm in coming to the same place where she’d caused such pain and suffering.

He took a deep breath before he spoke, trying his best to remain calm. “I suggest we look at this as an opportunity to capture her. I’m certain her father would go to extremes to ensure her safe return. We could send him a message.”

“I’m to travel to Auranos with King Gaius for a meeting with King Corvin in four days. We hope to negotiate his surrender. You and your friend Brion will be joining me. If we were to deliver such a message, we’d do it ourselves.”

To see King Corvin’s face when they told him that Cleo was in their grasp...

It would be a small serving of revenge on behalf of all Paelsians to a selfish, self-involved king who had no vision beyond his own glittering kingdom.

“What better than to have the king’s own daughter if the negotiations go awry?” Jonas said.

Any battle, no matter how well organized, would result in the loss of Paelsian life—especially with the untrained citizens who were being recruited to fight side by side with the armored Limerian knights and soldiers. A surrender from King Corvin without the necessity of war would be an ideal outcome. The chief pursed his lips, fiddling with the high mound of food on the plate before him, even now after midnight. Jonas ignored the girls who danced behind him by the campfire as Basilius’s late night entertainment.

It still troubled him to see a glimpse of the same excess and decadence here in the compound as what he wished to rebel against in Auranos. Many in the villages told stories of the luxuries Chief Basilius was allowed as their leader—paid for by the excessive wine tax. None had a problem with it. They held him to a different standard; he represented their hope. Many worshipped the chief as a god, believing that he held powerful magic within him. Perhaps such magic could only be coaxed out with dancing girls and slabs of roasted goat meat.

Finally the chief nodded. “It’s an excellent plan. I officially give you the task of detaining the girl. King Gaius begins his journey from Limeros to my compound tomorrow—from here we will go to Auranos united. I’ll let him know the news of King Corvin’s daughter when he arrives.”

Jonas grimaced. He hated that the Limerian king—the leader of a land who’d treated Paelsia no better than Auranos had over the years—was such a close confidant of the chief now. He’d like to argue that this wasn’t necessary, but knew he’d be soundly ignored—or worse, banished from the compound and the chief’s confidence—if he did.

So be it.

“Go,” the chief ordered, “find this girl and lock her up somewhere nice and tight.” He gave Jonas a thin smile. “And try your best to treat her with respect. She is royalty.” The chief was well aware of Jonas’s personal issues with the princess, as was everyone within twenty miles of his village.

“Of course.” Jonas bowed and turned to leave.

“Once we’ve secured King Corvin’s surrender, however, you have my permission to do whatever you wish with her.” With Jonas dismissed, the chief resumed his large meal and his attention shifted to the dancing girls.

Jonas couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to treat the princess with respect. His obsessive hate for her was palpable, bitter, and growing by the day. His blood boiled. Part of him wished he hadn’t come to see the chief. He could have killed Cleo in the unprotected cottage and nobody would ever have had to know but himself. Waiting until after they’d seen the Auranian king might prove a challenge.

But even he recognized that a permanent change for his people was more important than revenge. The princess was worth more alive than dead.

For now.

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Cleo’s optimism had fully returned by the time she and Nic were ready to depart from Eirene’s cottage before dawn the next morning. She clutched the old woman’s hands and looked into her wise old eyes. “Much gratitude for your generosity. You were too kind to us.”

“You have a good heart, Cleo.” Eirene smiled. “And I can see that you love your older sister with every piece of that heart. I hope that you find the answers you seek to save her.”

So did Cleo. “Tell me the best way I can contact you. Does this village have a central place where messages can be sent—perhaps to the inn? I want to send you something when I return home to repay you for your kindness.” She would make sure that the old woman would be sent money and gifts for coming to their aid last night. Eirene and Sera would live very comfortably for years to come.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I insist!”

Eirene’s brows drew together. “Very well. I am good friends with the owner of the tavern. I suppose he could accept a message for me. I’ll write down his name for you.”

She went into her cottage and returned a few moments later with a small ragged envelope that she pressed into Cleo’s hand.

“Thank you.” Cleo smiled as she tucked it into the pocket of her skirt.

“Magic will find those with pure hearts, even when all seems lost. And love is the greatest magic of all. I know this to be true.” She kissed Cleo’s cheeks and then did the same with Nic. After a last farewell, Cleo and Nic began walking away from the cottage. The sun had still not risen.

Eirene’s story last night about the goddesses and the Watchers didn’t work as a deterrent to Cleo’s quest. It only solidified her growing belief that the magic she sought did exist. Emilia’s life would be saved. Cleo focused on nothing else but that. And when she set her mind to something, it happened. No matter how she had to go about achieving it.

Unfortunately, she seemed to be in the minority this morning.

“You’re going home,” Nic told her firmly.

“Excuse me?” She stopped walking to face him. They were only a few cottages away from Eirene’s.

“You heard me,” Nic said. “Home. You going there. Without delay.”

“I can’t go! Not yet.”

“I thought we already agreed on this.” He sighed and raked a hand through his messy red hair. “It’s been a week and we’ve found nothing but stories. I don’t think it’s safe for you to remain here traipsing about with me. Perhaps it was wrong for me to allow you to come here in the first place.”

“You allowed me?” She raised her voice. “I do what I want when I want.”

“Which might be part of the problem. You’re so used to getting your own way that you fail to be cautious when the situation calls for it.”

She just glared at him.

“No argument?” he said, nodding. “Excellent. So you agree it’s time for you to go back to Auranos.”

“I’m not finished with my search. There are still villages to visit.”

“I’ll stay for a while. And I’ll do whatever I can to find information on this Watcher you’re convinced is hiding out somewhere in this land. But first I’m going to see you onto a ship back to Auranos so I know you’re safe—and so, more importantly, the king knows you’re safe. We’ve been gone long enough.”

One side of her wanted to fight this with every fiber of her being. The other side couldn’t help but see Nic’s logic. Her heart swelled with gratitude toward him. “You’d really stay here for me?”

“Of course I would.”

She threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You are truly my best friend in the entire world, do you know that?”

“I’m glad to hear it. Besides, I’m in no hurry to go back to the palace and face the wrath of the king for running off with his daughter.”

He was undoubtedly right, but she’d hoped not to think of that for a while longer. Both her father and Theon would be livid with her—and Nic. It was one thing if she returned victorious with the solution she’d sought in the palm of her hand and another if she scurried back defeated with her tail between her legs.

So they’d be angry. Fine. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last. She’d deal with any repercussions when the time came.

“I want to stay and help you,” she said softly.

“Accept it, Cleo. You can’t always have everything you want.”

She snorted against the softness of his tunic. “Very well. Have it your way. You can be the hero.”

“It’s always been my dream.”

“Back to the harbor, then.”

“The harbor.” He nodded and presented his hand to her. She took it.

As they started walking, Cleo had the oddest sensation that they were being watched. She turned her head to look, but no one was there. A mile west of the village, they turned onto a dusty road and she felt it again. Like cold fingers trailing down her spine.

“Ouch. You do have quite a grip on you, Cleo.”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Somebody’s watching us.”

He frowned. “What?”

They turned to see in the gathering light a tall, dark-haired boy moving toward them along the road. Cleo froze in place as he swiftly caught up to them. Her breath caught as she realized it was the very same boy who haunted her dreams.

Jonas Agallon.

“What are you—” she began.

He gave her an unfriendly grin. “Morning, princess. Such an honor to see you again.”

And then he slammed his fist into Nic’s face, dropping the boy to the ground. Nic scrambled back up to his feet immediately, his nose gushing blood.

Cleo screamed. “What are you doing?”

“Relieving you of your protection.” Jonas swung Nic around until he faced Cleo and pressed a dagger—the very same jeweled dagger that Aron had used to kill Tomas!—to Nic’s throat.

“Don’t!” she shrieked. “Please, no! Don’t hurt him!”

This was all happening too fast. How did he even know she was here?

“Don’t hurt him?” Jonas eyed her. Nic fought against him, but Jonas was much taller and more muscular. He was able to keep the skinny boy easily under control. “Are you saying that you care for him? That his death might cause you pain?”

“Let him go right now!”

“Why should I?” His dark-eyed gaze swept over her. She shivered under the coldness of his glare.

“Run, Cleo!” Nic shouted.

But she didn’t run. She would never abandon him like this.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“That’s a dangerous question. I want lots of things, none of which would probably set your pretty mind at ease. For now, I want to kill your friend and watch you grieve his loss.”

“No, please!” She staggered forward with an immediate urge to grab his arm and wrench the knife away from Nic’s throat. But she knew she wasn’t nearly powerful enough to do that. This was a very strong boy, one who hated her for what happened to his brother. One who had threatened in public to kill her. She had to think. She had to remain calm so she could negotiate with this heathen.

“I can give you plenty of money if you spare his life.”

His expression turned to ice. “Money? How about fourteen Auranian centimos for each case of wine? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Cleo swallowed and tried not to sound as if she was begging. “Don’t kill him. I know you hate me for what Aron did—”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Hate is such a small word for what I feel for you.”

“Your gripe is with me, then. Not with Nic. Let him go!”

“Sorry. I don’t follow orders very well.”

“You mean to kill me to avenge your brother’s death.” Her throat thickened with fear.

His expression tightened. “No. My goal today doesn’t include such a pleasure as that. Your friend here, on the other hand, might find that today is his last.”

“Cleo, are you deaf?” Nic snarled. “I told you to run!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Her voice broke and tears burned in her eyes.

Jonas frowned at her. “Isn’t that sweet? You should do as your friend suggests and try to run. You won’t get far, but you can try. It would be a moment of bravery for such a cowardly girl.”

She glared at him. “If you think I’m cowardly, you know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.”

“No, you don’t. What happened to your brother was a tragedy. I don’t defend what Aron did because he was wrong. And I was wrong not to stop it when I had the chance. I was horrified about what happened that day. So you can hate me all you want, but I swear to the goddess that if you harm Nic, I will kill you myself.”

In that moment, she meant every word. Every weak, meaningless, and laughable word. Still, Jonas stared at her as if he’d never expected...

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Magnus needed answers. And he needed them now.

He’d waited for his father to rage about the witch’s death after he’d swept Lucia out of Magnus’s chambers. Instead, all had been eerily calm. Sabina’s scorched body had been quietly taken away and discarded. No funeral was planned. No one, not even the servants, seemed to be gossiping.

It was as if the king’s mistress had never existed in the first place.

But Magnus didn’t give a damn about Sabina Mallius, alive or dead. Only what she’d told him about Lucia’s origins. He needed to know if it was the truth.

The next morning he sought his father out to demands answers but learned that the king had already left on a journey to Auranos with Chief Basilius. He wasn’t expected back for two weeks.

Sabina’s words echoed in Magnus’s mind, but he didn’t know what to believe. The witch had been a deceptive, manipulative woman—which had been proved without a doubt on the night of her death. As Magnus had watched the woman burn, he hadn’t felt a single ounce of pity. She deserved exactly what she received.

But now there were so many questions.

The king had already arranged for a special tutor to be at the ready to help Lucia with her elementia once it awakened. It was an old, withered woman who knew much of the legends and the prophecy. His sister spent nearly all of her waking hours now with this woman, on direct orders from the king.

His sister.

The question that burned brightest inside him was if what Sabina told him was true—that Lucia was born to a different family and brought to the castle as a baby to be raised as a full-blooded Damora. Since he was not yet two years old when the queen allegedly had given birth to her, he had no memory of this.

The second day after Sabina’s death, Magnus couldn’t hold any of this in a moment longer. He needed answers. And staring at his sister’s face across the table at dinner last night without being able to speak to her about this possibility had proved too much for him to bear. With his father absent there was only one other person in the castle who’d be able to tell him the truth.

“Magnus,” Queen Althea greeted him outside after his archery class. With war looming, his lessons had increased at the king’s request in number and intensity, but he’d been able to keep up. He was ready for a fight—and if it was one guaranteed to spill blood, it didn’t bother him.

His mother enjoyed taking afternoon walks around the palace and through the icy gardens directly next to the cliffs. When he was a boy, she’d stare out at the seemingly endless Silver Sea and tell him tales of what was on the other side—realms filled with strange people and fantastical creatures.

His mother had long since stopped telling him such amusing stories. Along with Limeros’s climate, her personality had steadily grown colder over the years. The warmer moments now were barely noticeable.

“Mother,” he said, casting a glance at the swirling white-crested water crashing to the rocks far below.

“I was about to look for you. There’s a message waiting for you from your father delivered earlier by falcon.” Her long gray hair was loose and swept back by the cold wind from her aging face. She wore a full cloak and her normally pale cheeks were bright with color from the chill.

He got right to the point. “Did Sabina Mallius steal Lucia from her cradle in Paelsia and bring her here for you to raise as your daughter?” he asked.

Her gaze snapped to his. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Her mouth worked, but no words emerged for several moments. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because Sabina told me so herself before Lucia set her on fire.” He tried to enunciate his next words so there would be no misunderstandings. “Lucia is not my blood sister. Is this correct?”

“Magnus, my darling—”

“Don’t Magnus, my darling me. The truth is all I seek from you today, Mother. If that’s even possible. It’s a simple answer—yes or no. Is Lucia my sister?”

The queen’s expression filled with anxiety. “She is your sister is all ways but blood. As she is my daughter.”

He had his answer. And it was as if the world quaked beneath his feet.

“But not from your womb.”

She did not reply to this.

Magnus’s heart pounded hard. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because it’s not important. This is how your father wanted it to be. Perhaps he planned to tell you the truth eventually, but it was not my place to do so.”

He laughed, a sound as sharp as the edge of a sword. “No, of course not. If he said for you to raise her as your own, that’s what you must do. I wonder sometimes, Mother, if you also fear the king’s wrath. Or if you were one of the few that managed to escape it.”

“As king, your father only does what he must.”

Magnus once loved his mother, but as she sat back and allowed the king to heap abuse upon him—both physical and verbal—this love had greatly faded.

“You can’t tell her. Not yet.” Her voice was heavy with worry. “She’s a sensitive girl. She wouldn’t understand.”

“If that’s what you think of Lucia, it only proves just how little you know her. No, the girl you raised as my sister may not share my blood, but she is a Damora. With that label, any sensitivity must be burned away as soon as possible if one wishes *****rvive. And Lucia now has the ability to burn many things away should she choose to.”

“I only did what I had to do.”

“Of course.” Magnus turned from her and began to walk away, leaving her standing at the edge of the cliff all alone. He had the answer he sought. The was no reason for further conversation. “As we all must.”

He went into the castle to find the message delivered from the king. It was written by his father’s own hand, which meant it was too confidential to trust to a servant. Magnus read the message twice through.

Princess Cleiona from Auranos had been captured while traveling through Paelsia and was being detained there. The king instructed Magnus to take two men with him to retrieve the princess and escort her back to Limeros. The king stressed it was an important assignment he was trusting his son with, one that could turn the negotiations with King Corvin to Limeros’s favor.

While unwritten, it was clear to Magnus that his father meant to threaten the girl’s life in pursuit of his own goals. It was to be expected from the King of Blood. This possibility didn’t trouble him. In fact, he was surprised that King Gaius hadn’t thought to send men directly into Auranos weeks ago to kidnap the girl from her own bed if it would mean an easier way for him to get his hands on King Corvin’s land and gain more power for his kingdom.

His first inclination was to turn his back on this and sulk, waiting for his father to return so they could have it out about truths left unspoken.

But this was a test he couldn’t ignore.

Magnus, no matter what, didn’t want to lose his claim to the throne on the off chance the king claimed another bastard as his rightful son. The possibility that King Gaius might have eventually meant to do this with Tobias had never been spoken between them, but it hung in the air like the foul odor of a cesspit.

The trip to and from Paelsia, to the location noted at the bottom of the message, would take four days. Four days to prove his worth to his deceptive and manipulative father.

Unlike the answer he’d demanded from his mother, this question didn’t have two possible answers. It only had one.

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King Corvin was nothing like Jonas expected him to be.

Paelsians widely believed him to be a devious and manipulative man who ignored their squalor while those in Auranos lived lavishly and opulently, with no heed to how much they spent or how much they wasted. Jonas had hated King Corvin before he ever laid eyes on him.

The king was a formidable-looking man. He was tall, with heavy muscle like a knight slightly past his prime. His light brown hair, peppered with gray, hung to his shoulders; his beard was short and well groomed. His blue-green eyes were keen and sharp—and, Jonas couldn’t help but note, the exact same color as the princess’s. At first glance, and despite his glittering palace inlaid with actual gold, King Corvin didn’t look like a man who encouraged hedonism and self-indulgence in his people.

Appearances could be deceiving, Jonas reminded himself.

At Chief Basilius’s compound, they’d met King Gaius and his men and traveled together to Auranos to show that they were now allies.

King Gaius was also a strong-looking man. Short black hair, dark eyes, tight skin on his sharp cheekbones. A thin mouth. He looked stern and severe. But there was something in his eyes, a wickedness that betrayed the rest of his orderly appearance. Jonas wasn’t sure if he appreciated that edge or if it made him even more distrustful of the man.

He’d heard many tales of how King Gaius ensured his subjects behaved themselves—by heavily policing them with a trained army ready to uphold the strict laws the king set forth. His was a reign painted in blood. Jonas would never underestimate someone like that, even if he wasn’t sure how many rumors were true.

King Corvin did not turn them away. He invited them into his palace and into his great hall to meet with him. This was where Jonas and Brion now sat, on either side of the chief. King Gaius and his men sat at the other side of the large square table. Behind King Corvin positioned on the dais were two guards.

They all had even numbers present. But there would be no violence today. Today was for discussion only. And Jonas had been advised to let King Gaius do the talking on Paelsia’s behalf. He was shocked and dismayed that the chief had agreed to this.

“Who are these boys?” King Corvin asked, referring to Jonas and Brion. He didn’t ask the same of Gaius’s men. Since they wore the dark red uniforms of Limerian palace guards, it was obvious to all that they were the king’s bodyguards.

The chief nodded at each of them. “This is Jonas Agallon and Brion Radenos.”

“They’re your guards?”

“More than that. Jonas is soon to become my son-in-law.”

Jonas felt Brion’s surprised gaze land on him.

Son-in-law? A sick feeling churned in his gut. Perhaps it would be wise to end things with Laelia sooner than he’d planned. She obviously had the wrong impression about their future together. Jonas heard a sound. He thought it was a muffled snort of laughter coming from Brion’s direction even though there was nothing remotely funny about this. He kept his eyes forward, not leaving King Corvin for a moment.

“Must we feign civil conversation?” the king of Auranos said tightly. “Say what you came here to say and be done with it.”

“I consider you a very good friend, Corvin.” King Gaius offered him a warm smile. “I know I should have made more of an effort to keep our ties strong.”

“Were they ever strong?”

“We have so much in common. Two prosperous lands flanking that of Paelsia. Three lands that could be very strong together. Close friendships will make it even stronger.”

“So you’re offering me friendship today,” the king said thinly and with distrust etched into his expression. “Is that it?”

King Gaius nodded gravely. “Friendship above all. Family above all. I know what it’s like to have a young family. To hope for a brighter future for them. Paelsia, however, has fallen on much harder times than we have.”

“And you wish to help them.”

“With all my heart.”

King Corvin glanced at Chief Basilius. “I know that Paelsia prides itself on being a sovereign state. You’ve not asked for any assistance, nor have we offered any. But I truly didn’t realize how difficult times have been for you.”

Jonas found this impossible to believe, but he swallowed back any poisonous comments that rose in his throat.

“We are a proud people,” the chief said. “We tried to resolve our problems by ourselves.”

King Gaius nodded. “I’m overwhelmed by how courageous the Paelsians have been through these lean years. My heart bleeds for their suffering. But the time has come to change all of that.”

“What do you propose?” King Corvin asked, with a noticeable thread of distaste when speaking to the Limerian king. “Should we begin a charity for them? Collect money? Clothing? A food drive, perhaps? Allow more open travel between our lands? There’s been a great deal of poaching here from Paelsians over the years. Is this something you think I should simply turn a blind eye to?”

“If our borders were fully open to each other, poaching would not occur. It would not be stealing then.”

King Corvin templed his fingers and looked across the table at him steadily. “I’m certainly open to discussion on all matters.”

“Yes, well, discussion would be lovely,” King Gaius said, “if this was twenty years ago and my father still ruled. But times have changed.”

King Corvin regarded him with barely veiled distaste. “Then what do you want?”

“Change,” King Gaius said simply. “On a much grander scale.”

“Such as?”

King Gaius leaned back in his chair. “Chief Basilius and I want to take Auranos and divide it evenly between us.”

King Corvin was quiet for a moment, holding the other king’s gaze. Finally his lips peeled back from straight white teeth and he laughed. “Oh, Gaius. I forgot how much you enjoy joking around.”

King Gaius didn’t crack a smile. “I’m not joking.”

King Corvin’s expression went cold as ice. “You want me to believe that you’ve aligned with this chieftain to take my land and split it. You must think I’m very stupid. There’s another reason. What’s your real goal here? And why now, Gaius? After all this time?”

“When better?” was all King Gaius allowed.

King Corvin cast a pitying look at Chief Basilius. “You trust him with something this important?”

“Completely. He proved himself to me in ways that very few ever would dare to. He honored me with a true sacrifice. That is worth its weight in gold to me.”

“Then you’re an unforgivable fool.” King Corvin pushed back from the table and got to his feet. “This meeting is over. I have more to worry about right now than listening to nonsense.”

“We’re giving you this one chance to agree to our terms,” King Gaius said, undeterred. “You would be wise to accept. Your family would be treated well. You would be given a new home. An allowance. There doesn’t need to be any blood shed because of this.”

“Everything you touch becomes stained with blood, Gaius. That’s why you haven’t been welcome in my kingdom for ten years.” He turned toward the door and a guard pushed it open.

“We have your daughter.”

King Corvin’s shoulders tensed and he slowly turned around. His annoyed expression had shifted to something much more dangerous. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“Your daughter, Cleiona.” Gaius enunciated the words perfectly. No room for misunderstanding. “Seems that she was found wandering through Paelsia without protection. Not very wise for a princess, is it?”

Jonas tried very hard to keep any expression off his face. This was what he’d waited for all this time and why he hadn’t killed Cleo himself. Instead, the promise of her continued life would be used to ensure a brighter future for his home and family.

“You really shouldn’t let your youngest travel to other lands without proper protection,” King Gaius said. “But don’t worry. I’ll personally ensure her safety.”

“You dare to threaten me?” King Corvin’s words were edged in poison.

King Gaius spread his hands. “It’s very simple. Surrender your kingdom when we return with our combined army at our backs. And no one will have *****ffer.”

King Corvin’s grip on the edge of the doorway was so tight that Jonas was sure he would tear off a strip of wood from it at any moment. “Harm my daughter and I will personally tear you apart.”

King Gaius remained calm. “How could I wish harm to your youngest, Corvin? I know the love a father has in his children. My eldest, Magnus, for example, is proving his worth in so many ways. Even right at this moment. I’m very proud of him. As I’m sure you’re proud of your daughters. You have two, do you not?” The Limerian king frowned. “The older one, I’ve heard, has fallen quite ill. Will she recover?”

“Emilia is fine.”

King Corvin was lying....

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The princess was proving to be more elusive than Theon had hoped. After arriving in Paelsia with two trusted guards, he’d searched far and wide, scouring the villages they came across for any clues.

One thing was certain—Cleo and Nic had been there, stopping long enough to make a lasting and mostly favorable impression on the locals before carrying on. Theon was surprised to learn they said they were traveling as sister and brother...from Limeros. Clever.

But then he’d hit a wall. Nothing new. No clues. And every day that passed deepened his desperation and fear that something horrible had befallen her. Finally he instructed the guards to split up so they could individually cover more ground.

It had been his duty as Cleo’s bodyguard—his only duty—to keep her safe. The king’s promise to kill him if he failed was the farthest thing from his mind. He was more concerned with the princess’s safety.

It wasn’t until ten days after she left Auranos that he finally found a clue.

On a narrow, muddy road after yet another strange and unexpected thunderstorm, Nicolo Cassian was headed straight for him.

For the briefest moment, Theon thought he was only seeing things. But it was true. He ran toward Nic and grabbed hold of the front of his tunic.

“Where is the princess? Answer me!”

Nic looked as grave and weary as Theon felt. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

“You won’t be glad when I get you back to Auranos. You’re going to pay dearly for taking the princess away from the safety of the palace.”

“You really think I forced her to come here? Cleo has a mind of her own, you know.”

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Taken by a Paelsian three days ago. He held a knife to my throat, threatened to separate my head from my body. Cleo bargained for my life by agreeing to go with him.” He looked destroyed by this. “She shouldn’t have. She should have run away. She should have let him kill me.”

Theon’s stomach lurched. “Do you know who it was?”

Nic nodded, his expression grave. “Jonas Agallon.”

Theon finally let go of Nic’s dusty tunic and found that his hands were now shaking. The name was as familiar as his own. Jonas. The boy who’d threatened her life. The one she’d had nightmares about. And Theon hadn’t been here to protect her.

“She’s going to die—or she’s already dead. And it’s my fault.”

“I know where she is.”

His attention snapped to Nic’s. “You do?”

“Had a lucky break yesterday. Been asking around, trying to find out more about Jonas and his family. Learned where his sister lives. They have a storm shed, which is where I think she’s being held.”

His breath caught. “You think? Or do you know?”

“I don’t know for sure since I haven’t seen her, but it’s being guarded. A woman goes in once a day with a tray of food and water and comes out with an empty one. I only left since I knew I had to send a message to...well, to you. And here you are.”

The smallest piece of hope returned to Theon’s heart. “Take me there immediately.”

? ? ?

If Cleo had learned one thing in her three days of captivity it was this—Felicia Agallon hated her every bit as much as Jonas did. But despite this hate, the girl observed her brother’s orders to bring Cleo food once a day—which consisted of stale rye bread and well water, made palatable only by the ad***ion of honey. The first time, as Felicia scowled at her across the shadows of the small and cold, windowless shed with only a tiny, ragged hole in the roof to let in any light, Cleo looked down at the water with wariness.

“Is it poisoned?”

“Would you blame me if it was?”

Cleo was going to argue, but she held her tongue. “Not really.”

Felicia studied her for a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “It’s not poisoned. Jonas wants you to keep breathing, although I’m not sure why.”

Still, Cleo waited as long as she could before she drank or ate anything. For much of her time, she tried to sleep on a pile of straw, sipped water, and nibbled at the hard pieces of bread. It was as far removed from luxury as she’d ever experienced.

She tried to chew through the ropes binding her wrists, but that didn’t work. Even if she succeeded, the chain around her ankle was another serious problem. Also, the shack was locked from the outside and guarded. She couldn’t let herself think of her sister, or her father, or Theon. She was a mouse caught in a trap with no escape, waiting for the cat to return.

Waiting.

And waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, but that she later figured out was barely more than three days, she heard something. Shouts. Grunts. Slams.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Fear rendered her very quiet and still. There was another bang, louder this time. Then voices, muffled. She held her breath and tried to be brave enough to face whatever dark demon might burst through.

Then it occurred to her that whoever was outside wasn’t trying to knock, they were trying to break down the door. Finally it swung inward. Cleo shielded her eyes as painfully bright sunlight streamed into the darkness.

When Theon entered the room, her mouth fell open with shock at the same time that her heart leapt in her chest.

“See?” Nic said with triumph. “I knew she was in here.”

“Is anyone else here?” Theon demanded. It took her a moment before she realized he was speaking to her.

She tried to stop gaping at the two of them. “I...what? Here? No, nobody’s here right now. Just me. But there are guards outside.”

“I took care of them already.”

Nic rushed to her side and grabbed her arms. “Cleo, are you all right? Did that savage touch you?”

The concern she saw on his face made tears fill her eyes. “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

Nic let out an audible sigh of relief and hugged her tightly against him. “I was so worried.”

Theon didn’t say anything, but he came toward her when Nic finally released her. His jaw was tight. She almost cringed away from him since he looked completely livid.

“Theon—”

He raised a hand. “I don’t want to hear anything beyond you being fine right now.”

“But—”

“Princess, please.”

“You have a right to be angry with me.”

“How I feel doesn’t matter. I need to get you home. Now be still so I can free you before the guards I knocked out wake up.”

She closed her mouth as he began to work on her bindings. He was more efficient than gentle with the ropes, and her wrists were more abraded by the time he finished than they’d been to begin with, but she didn’t utter one word of complaint. Then Theon unsheathed his sword and hacked through the chain. He eyed the shackle still circling her ankle. “The rest of it will have to wait until we get to a blacksmith.”

Theon clamped his hand on her wrist and pulled her out of the shack and into the sunshine. Nothing had ever felt so good to her as the bright sun did on her face. Nic fished into her bag, which she’d dropped when Jonas took her, and pulled out her cloak, putting it over her shoulders so she could stay warm. She looked at him with gratitude.

Immediately, they began walking away from her prison and back to the road beyond. There was a village only a mile from here—the same village where Nic and Cleo had met Eirene and stayed with her for the night.

“We can get a ship back,” Nic said. “There’s one leaving tomorrow at sunset if we can make it there in time. You’ll be back in Auranos before you know it, Cleo, and all will be well.”

Her stomach twisted. “All is not well. I never found the Watcher.”

Theon nodded at Nic. “I need to speak with the princess alone for a minute. Would you give us some time?”

Nic looked at her. “Depends. Cleo?”

She nodded. “It’s all right. I should let Theon have his say now. Then when I get home, I’ll only have to be reprimanded by my father.”

Reprimanded was likely putting her future punishment mildly. She wished she could say it was unfounded, but she was prepared to accept her fate.

“Then I’ll head into the village and get something to eat,” Nic said reluctantly.

“We’ll meet you there,” Theon said firmly.

With a last glance at Cleo to confirm that she was all right with being left alone with Theon, Nic turned and took off at a clip. Cleo watched him leave, afraid to return her gaze to her angry bodyguard.

“Despite everything, I’m not sorry that I came here,” she said when silence fell between them. “I did this to help my sister and I’m devastated that I failed. I know you despise me right now and I’m positive that my father was enraged when he learned I was gone.” She drew in a tired breath. “But I had to do it.”

When she finally turned to him, Theon’s expression had changed. Where before it was fury and hardness, there was now something more raw in his expression.

“However, the...

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By the time Magnus came to, all three horses had run off. He was alone, in the middle of Paelsia, surrounded by three corpses. A hawk circled in the sky high above. For a moment, he thought it might be a vulture.

He dragged himself to his feet and looked down at the fallen men. He swore under his breath, then cast a dark look in the direction of the village in the distance. There was no sign of Princess Cleo and whoever that was who’d knocked him out.

He tried very hard not to look at the Auranian guard whom he’d stabbed, but his gaze kept turning in that direction. The young guard’s eyes were still open, staring up at the sky. Blood had caked on his lips and a pool of it soaked into the dirt next to his body.

Magnus realized he was trembling. This guard had taken out two of his men. As soon as he turned around, Magnus could have been killed too. He’d had to strike first. And so he’d chosen to stab the guard in the back. Like a coward.

He crouched down and looked very hard at the Auranian, knowing he would never forget the face of the first person he’d slain. The boy wasn’t much older than he was. Magnus reached over and closed his eyes.

Then he left the bodies there, went to the village, purchased a horse from a Paelsian who’d seemed fearful and intimidated by Magnus’s very presence, and rode hard back to Limeros. He stopped only when he was so tired he nearly fell off his mount, sleeping a few hours before continuing on, numb, broken, and beaten.

The blood had dried on his cheek where the girl had clawed him. At least, it had stopped stinging. He wondered briefly if it would leave new scars there. It would serve as a visible marking of his defeat and humiliation.

When he finally returned to the Limerian palace, he left the horse outside without calling for a groom to take it away and give it food and water. He could barely think. It was a monumental effort to even walk a straight line.

Magnus went directly to his room, closing the door behind him. Then he collapsed to his knees on the hard floor.

Some said that Magnus was just like his father in looks and temperament. He’d disagreed until today. He was his father’s son. He was cruel. Manipulative. Deceptive. Violent. Stabbing the guard in the back to save his own life was something that King Gaius would have done. The only difference was that the king would not dwell on it afterward. He would never doubt his actions. He would celebrate them like he celebrated his daughter’s newfound magic after it had turned his mistress into a pile of charred meat.

Magnus wasn’t sure how long he knelt there in the darkness. But after a time, he knew he was no longer alone.

Lucia had entered his chambers. He didn’t see her yet, but he felt her presence and smelled the light floral fragrance she always wore.

“Brother?” she whispered. “You’ve returned.”

He didn’t reply. His mouth was dry, parched. He wasn’t even sure if he could move.

Lucia came to his side and gently touched his shoulder.

“Magnus!” She knelt down next to him and brushed the hair back from his cheek. “Your face. You’re hurt!”

He swallowed. “It’s nothing.”

“Where have you been?”

“On a trip to Paelsia.”

“You look...oh, Magnus.” Concern coated her words. She didn’t know what he’d done. What he’d been instructed to do.

Retrieve Princess Cleo and bring her back to Limeros.

Such a simple task. Magnus had no doubt that his father never would have given it to him if he hadn’t been positive his son would succeed.

But he’d failed.

Lucia got up and returned a few moments later with a glass of water and a wet cloth. “Drink this,” she told him firmly.

He drank. But the water only worked to wash away his numbness, making his pain that much more acute.

Lucia cleaned his wound gently with the cloth. “What scratched you?”

He didn’t answer. Lucia wouldn’t understand what he’d done.

“Tell me,” she insisted. The steely edge to her tone earned her a direct look. “That’s right. You need to tell me what happened. Right now.”

“Will you make it all better?”

“I might.”

As he drew in a ragged breath, her expression grew more grave. She stroked his hair back from his face. “Magnus, please. What can I do?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Why did you go to Paelsia?”

“Father sent me there to bring something back for him. I failed. And...bad things happened. He’s going to be very angry with me.” He looked down at the floor, looked at his hands. He’d left his sword downstairs. He hadn’t bothered to wipe the guard’s blood off it.

“What bad things happened?”

“The guards who accompanied me—they were killed.”

Her eyes widened. “They were killed? But—but you got away. You were hurt, but you got away.” She touched his face softly. “Thank the goddess you survived.”

He looked into her beautiful eyes, taking strength from the way she looked at him, as if he could never be capable of doing anything truly horrible. “I killed someone.”

Lucia’s lips parted in surprise. “My poor brother. You’ve experienced such horrors. I am so, so sorry.”

“I’m a murderer, Lucia.”

“No.” She captured his face between her hands to force him to keep looking at her. “You’re my brother. And you’re wonderful. You could never do anything horrible. Do you hear me?”

She hugged him tight, so tight that he could almost forget what had happened. He held on to her. She was his anchor to keep him from being swept completely out to sea.

“Father won’t be angry,” she whispered. “Whatever he wanted you to do isn’t as important as having you return safely home.”

“He might disagree with that.”

“No, he won’t. I felt terrible about what happened with Sabina.” Her voice caught. “But he assured me that I’m not bad and that my magic is nothing to fear. That what happened was meant to happen. It was fate.”

“And you believed him?”

Lucia was quiet for a moment. “It took me a while, but I do believe him now. What I can do—I’m not afraid of it anymore. Let me show you what I’ve learned.”

She pressed her hand against his injured cheek. Her skin grew warm against his and begin to glow with a soft white light. He stared into her blue eyes, willing himself not to pull back from her as the heat grew and sank into his skin. It hurt, but he forced himself not to flinch away from her. When she finally pulled back from him, he touched his cheek to find that it was smooth, apart from his previous scar, and that the new scratches had vanished. Lucia had healed him with earth magic.

“Incredible. You’re incredible.”

A small, confident smile played at her lips. “I was surprised how kind Father was to me after...well, after what I did. I love him for not making this worse for me.”

Magnus hated that Lucia had been taken in by a few kind words by the king enough to forget the past. “Do you love him as much as you love me?”

She leaned against him and let out a soft laugh. “The truth?’

“Always.”

“Then it shall be our secret,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you more than any other.”

He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes, holding her beautiful face between his hands. Could this be real?

“Does that make you feel better after your horrible ordeal?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “It does.”

And then, heart swelling, he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her as deeply and passionately as he’d always dreamed. Her lips were so soft and sweet, and they filled him to overflowing with hope and love.

With a chill, he suddenly realized that her hands were pressed flat against his chest and she was trying to push him away. When he broke off the kiss, she skidded back from him, landing hard on her backside. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide and appalled. And something else. Disgusted.

His lips tingled from the feel of her, the taste of her, but the reality of what had happened crashed over him like a bucket of ice-cold water.

She hadn’t kissed him back.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Her voice was pitchy and muffled by her hand.

“I’m sorry.” His heart hammered in his chest. Then he shook his head. “No, wait. I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long, but I was afraid.”

Her hand trembled as she pulled it away from her mouth. “But you’re my brother.”

“You said that you loved me.”

“Yes. I love you desperately...as my brother. But this...” She shook her head. “No, it’s not right. You can’t do something like this ever again.”

“You’re not really my sister.” He wouldn’t let himself feel shame for what he’d done. He’d given in to his love for her in a real way, and he refused to let it be turned into something vile. It wasn’t vile; it was pure. The purest thing in his...

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Cleo could barely function as she returned to the palace. Sounds were muted, and all she could really hear was the rush of blood through her veins and the pounding of her heart.

Theon was dead.

“Try not to worry. Stay next to me,” Nic whispered as they were brought immediately before the king. The guards hadn’t given Cleo a chance to go to her room first. Frankly, they seemed surprised that she’d returned at all.

She didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure that she could speak.

The tall wood and iron doors swung inward, and there he was. The king. A guard had hurried ahead to inform him of Cleo’s return.

His face was pale. He looked even older than she remembered.

“Cleo,” he began. “Is this real? Have you truly returned, or are you only an illusion?”

They were ushered into the room and the doors shut heavily behind them. Cleo got a pitying look from one of the guards. He knew of the king’s temper.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, but could go no further before she started to cry.

The king swiftly moved toward her and gathered her into his arms. “My poor girl. I’m so relieved you’re home.”

This was a surprising reaction since the king had been stern with her for so long she’d practically forgotten his tender side. Finally he let go of her and helped her to a chair. His gaze flicked to Nic. “Explain.”

Nic shifted his feet. “Where should I begin?”

“I am furious that the two of you went to Paelsia against my wishes, but I had no idea that the difficulties between the lands would result in conflict like this. I was visited by King Gaius, who told me that he had Cleo in his grasp.”

Cleo shivered at the memory of the dark-haired boy with the cold, cruel eyes.

“He definitely tried,” Nic said with a nod. “But we got away.”

“Thank the goddess,” the king breathed. “How?”

“Theon,” Nic began, and his voice caught. Despite his previous smooth words, he also fought tears. “He fought Prince Magnus’s men. Killed them so they wouldn’t lay a hand on the princess. Then the prince killed Theon.”

“What?” the king gasped.

“We had no choice but to leave his body on Paelsian soil. We had to flee immediately.”

“I wanted to kill the prince,” Cleo managed. “I had the chance to, but...”

“I wouldn’t let her,” Nic admitted. “If she’d killed Prince Magnus, I knew things would be even worse than they already are.”

The king took this information in. “You were right to stop her. But I understand her desire for vengeance.”

Vengeance. The word sounded so decisive. So final. It was what Jonas wanted when he’d taken her. She’d seen the fiery hate in his eyes for her role in his brother’s death. If this was how he’d felt toward her, she was grateful that she was still alive.

His goal was to put her somewhere Prince Magnus could find her. They were working together to destroy her father. It was a miracle that she’d escaped. A miracle that came at too high a price.

“Cleo, you’re so pale,” the king said with concern.

Nic touched her arm. “She’s still in shock.”

“Do you now see why I didn’t want you to go, daughter? I know you wanted to try to help your sister, but there’s too much at risk right now.”

“I failed.” Her voice broke. “I didn’t find anything to help Emilia. And Theon’s dead because of me.”

He cupped her face and kissed her gently on her forehead. “Go to your chambers and rest. Tomorrow will be better.”

“I thought you’d be so angry with me.”

“I am angry. But to see you alive and well and returned to me is the answer to my prayers. So my happiness that you’re safe is more powerful than any anger. Love is stronger than anger. Love is stronger than hate—stronger than anything. Remember that.”

Nic helped her to her chambers, and he too kissed her forehead before he left her there, tucked into her warm bed. He left her in the dark room and she tried to sleep, but she was plagued by nightmares. One after another, and each of them starring a different dark-haired boy. One, Paelsian and savage, dragging her along a dusty road to lock her in a small, dirty shack. The other cruel and haughty, with a scar on his face and a bloody sword, laughing over the body of Theon.

She woke in the night, sobbing.

“There, there,” a familiar voice soothed. A cool hand brushed her forehead.

“Emilia?” She sat up in her bed, realizing that her sister was with her. The shadows of the room weren’t enough to cover how thin and pale her sister looked or the darkness under her eyes. “What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

“How could I stay away when I learned that my little sister had finally returned?” Emilia’s face was grave. She climbed into the bed next to Cleo. “Father told me what happened. Cleo, I’m so sorry about Theon.”

Cleo opened her mouth, but no words came for a long time. “It’s my fault.”

“You mustn’t think that.”

“If I hadn’t run away, he wouldn’t have had to come after me. He would still be alive.”

“It was his job to protect you. And he did it. He protected you, Cleo.”

“But he’s gone.” It was only a tiny gasp.

“I know.” Emilia held her as she sobbed, tears that seemed to have no end. “And I know how you feel. When I lost Simon, I thought that it would be the end of me too.”

“You really loved him.”

“With all my heart.” She stroked Cleo’s hair. “So mourn Theon. Cherish his memory. Thank him for his sacrifice. One day, I promise this pain will fade.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Right now it’s still too fresh. It might seem as if this grief will never let go of the hold it has on your heart.” Emilia’s jaw tightened. “But you must be strong, Cleo. There are hard times ahead.”

Cleo’s chest hitched. “War.”

Emilia nodded. “King Gaius wanted Father to turn Auranos over to him without a fight. He told Father he’d do horrible things to you if he put up any opposition.”

Cleo trembled at the thought of it. Emilia leaned closer. “And just between you and me, I believe Father would have done exactly as King Gaius asked before it was too late to save you.”

“He couldn’t. There are so many people in Auranos, he couldn’t just give it over to the Limerians.”

“And the Paelsians. Paelsia and Limeros have partnered in their hatred against us.”

“Why do they hate us so much?”

“Envy. They see that we have so much here. And they’re right. We do.”

Cleo exhaled shakily. Her actions had nearly brought about the ruin of her father’s kingdom. “My trip was wrong in so many ways. But I still can’t bring myself to fully regret it. I wanted to help you.”

“I know.” A small, sad smile touched her lips. “I know you did it for me. And I love you for that so much. But I don’t think even a Watcher could have helped me anymore. I’m not sure I even believe they’re anything more than legend.”

“They’re real.”

“Did you meet one?”

Cleo faltered. “No. But a woman I met, Eirene, she told me tales I’d never heard before. About a sorceress and a hunter, about the Watchers. Did you know the goddesses were Watchers who stole the Kindred and exiled themselves? Now the Watchers wait to find the next sorceress, who can lead them to the hidden Kindred to restore their magic before it dies away completely. It’s all so incredible.”

Emilia’s smile held. “Sounds like quite a tale.”

“It’s real,” Cleo insisted. “The goddesses stole the Kindred and split it between them, but the power made them enemies. Before that, the entire Western Realm was one. We were all friends once upon a time.”

“No longer. The Limerian king hates Father. He wants to destroy him. He’s hungered for Father’s land since before he was on the throne. His father was a kind and gentle king who only wanted peace. King Gaius will be happy to spill oceans of blood beyond his own borders if it will get him the power he desires.”

Cleo’s chest tightened. “His son is a vicious, evil creature. If I see him again, I’ll kill him.”

This didn’t bring a look of concern to Emilia’s face, rather one of admiration. “You have such boundless passion and determination. And strength.”

Cleo stared at her. “Strength? I could barely lift a sword to try to save my own life.”

“Not physical strength. Strength here.” Emilia pressed her hand against Cleo’s heart. Then she touched her forehead. “And here. Although up here is a part that you could probably work on a bit, so no more trips to dangerous lands will be in your immediate future.”

“I’m not strong,” Cleo insisted. “Neither heart or mind.”

“Sometimes you don’t realize...

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Magnus had expected his father to be furious over his failure in Paelsia. He’d been prepared to face his fate after waiting for over a week. He stood by the thick iron railing as King Gaius entered the downstairs foyer upon his return. The king didn’t waste any time in getting to the point as he peeled off his riding gloves and a servant helped him removed his mud-encrusted cloak.

“Where is Princess Cleiona?”

Magnus looked at him unflinchingly. “I would assume she’s in Auranos.”

“You failed me?” the king roared.

“We were ambushed. My guards were killed. I had to kill the guard accompanying the princess in order to escape with my life.”

The king’s face reddened with fury and he stormed toward Magnus, raising his hand to strike him. Before he made contact, Magnus caught his wrist.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “If you ever dare to hit me again, I’ll kill you too.”

“I asked you to do one simple thing, and you failed me.”

“And I barely returned home alive. Yes, I failed to bring you King Corvin’s daughter. But it’s over. You’ll just have to find another way to get what you want. Perhaps your own daughter will be all the assistance you need.” His face tensed. “Even though she’s not your daughter by blood.”

The king’s eyes widened a fraction—the only sign of any shock over Magnus’s words. “How did you learn of this?”

“Your mistress told me before Lucia turned her to ash. Then I confirmed it with Mother.” His lips twisted. “What do you have to say about that?”

King Gaius stayed locked in Magnus’s grip for another moment before he yanked his arm away. “I was going to tell you when I returned.”

“You’ll forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”

“Believe what you must, Magnus. What Sabina and your mother told you is true. It changes nothing.” Finally his rage lessened and he nodded slowly. “But I trust in fate. We’ll have to go into this war without any guarantees.”

No apologies for a lifetime of lies, but Magnus hadn’t expected any. And so he would offer no apologies for his failure in Paelsia. “Were there guarantees even with Princess Cleiona in our grasp?”

“No. Only speculation.” He studied his son’s face. “You’ve learned from this failure and from recent truths offered from the lips of deceitful women. It’s made you stronger.” He nodded again and a grin stretched across his face. “All is well. Destiny smiles on us, Magnus. Wait and see. Auranos is ours.”

Magnus kept his expression stony and unamused. “I feel the sudden need to crush others beneath my feet.”

This only made the king’s smile widen. “Got a taste for blood, did you? For the feel of a sword piercing flesh?”

“Maybe I did.”

“Excellent. You’ll get to experience a great deal more of it very soon, I promise.”

? ? ?

The next day when his father summoned him, Magnus didn’t delay in going to his side, leaving in the middle of his swordsmanship lesson. Andreas and the other boys watched him leave, attempting to guard their distaste.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Magnus said, throwing down the sword he’d used to break two of the boy’s arms in the last week. They should be lucky they didn’t practice with sharpened steel or he would have taken the entire limb. “I have royal business to attend to.”

Everything seemed so much simpler with his new outlook. He was the son of the King of Blood. And he would live up to that title in any way he could.

His father waited at the entrance to the eastern tower, where prisoners of special interest to the king were kept.

“Come with me,” the king said before leading Magnus up the narrow spiral staircase. The black stone walls higher up were coated with frost. There were no fireplaces in the towers to bring any warmth to them.

Magnus wasn’t sure what to expect when they reached the top. Perhaps a prisoner about to lose their head or their hands. He might be the one allowed to pass final judgment on a murderer or pickpocket. But when he saw who the prisoner was, his steps faltered.

Amia was chained in the small stone room, her arms raised above her head. Two guards stood by obediently. The girl’s face was bloody. Her gaze moved to him and widened before she bit her bottom lip and stared down at the floor.

“This,” the king said, “is one of our kitchen maids. She was caught eavesdropping outside my meeting room. You know how I feel about spies.”

“I’m not a spy,” she whispered.

The king strode across the room. He grasped hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. “Anyone who listens to conversations while hidden is a spy. The only question is, for whom do you spy, Amia?”

Bile rose in Magnus’s throat. The girl spied for him. She’d been an asset ever since he’d first taken notice of her. She’d told him many interesting pieces of information.

When she didn’t reply, the king backhanded her. Blood bubbled from her mouth as she sobbed.

Magnus’s heart thundered in his chest. “Seems as if she doesn’t want to say.”

“Perhaps she’s protecting someone. Or perhaps she’s simply stupid. The question is, and why I brought you up here, what do you think I should do with such a problem? Spies are usually tortured for information. While she hasn’t been helpful yet, a few hours on the rack might loosen young Amia’s tongue.”

“I—I only listen because I’m curious is all.” Her voice broke. “I mean no harm.”

“But I do,” the king said. “I mean a great deal of harm to stupid girls who become too curious. Now, let’s see. One listens to private conversations with their ears. So perhaps I should slice yours from your head and have you wear them as a necklace as an example for everyone else.” He held his hand out to a guard, who placed a dagger in it. She whimpered as he traced the edge of the blade along the side of her face. “But you see with your eyes. I can take those as well. Pluck them out of your head right now. I’m quite good at it. You’d barely feel a thing. I’ve found that those with bloody holes in their face tend to learn from their mistakes.”

“Tell him,” Magnus demanded, forcing the words out. “Tell him who you spy for.”

Tell him it’s me.

Amia’s breath hitched and she cast a look at him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No one. I spy for no one. I’m just a stupid girl who eavesdrops for her own entertainment.”

Magnus’s chest tightened.

He didn’t underestimate his father. The king took great pleasure in playing with prisoners, male or female. He had a taste for blood that could never be sated. It had been born in him. Magnus’s grandfather, who’d died when Magnus was only a small child, had been disappointed that his son and heir had such a wide sadistic streak. The former king of Limeros had been known to be kind and gentle. Though even the kindest and most gentle king had a torture chamber in their castle’s dungeon.

“I grow bored.” Magnus forced the words out. “I’m not sure why you made me stop sword practice for this meaningless matter. The girl is a fool, obviously, with a simple mind. But harmless. If this is her first offense, this should be enough to scare her. Should she be caught again, I’ll cut out her eyes myself.”

The king glanced at him, a smile curling the side of his mouth. “You’d do that? And could I watch?”

“I would insist that you do.”

The king took the girl’s face between his fingers, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “You’re very lucky that I agree with my son. See that you behave. If you step out of line once, just once, whether it’s eavesdropping or merely breaking a plate, I promise that you’ll be back here. And your eyes will be the very least that you’ll lose. Do you understand?”

She inhaled shakily. “Yes, your majesty.”

He patted her cheek. “Good girl.” Then he glanced at the guards. “Before you send her back to work, give her twenty lashes to ensure she doesn’t forget.”

Magnus left the tower with his father and forced himself not to cast a single glance back at the girl. Her sobs echoed off the stone walls all the way down to the ground floor.

“My son.” The king put his arm around Magnus’s shoulders. “Such a gentleman. Even to the lowliest kitchen whore.”

When he laughed, Magnus made sure to join in.

? ? ?

The next day, when his father had gone out on a hunt, Magnus found Amia in the kitchen mashing the distasteful kaana for their dinner while the head cook butchered a half-dozen chickens. The girl’s face was bruised black and blue, her right eye swollen shut.

She tensed when she noticed Magnus standing there.

“I said nothing,” she whispered. “You have no right to be angry with me.”

“It was stupid of you to get caught.”

She turned back to her work. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. How this girl...

Falling Kingdoms
Page 29



The combined forces of Limerian and Paelsian foot soldiers marched across the border of Auranos.

A little less than three months ago, Jonas had stood at this very border planning to make a forbidden crossing so he could extract vengeance for his brother’s death. The threat of Auranian border guards executing him on the spot was the same danger he’d faced when poaching with his brother.

But today, no mere border guards attempted to stop the invasion of five thousand strong. They had retreated to join the main Auranian force a few miles inland.

“Nice armor on the Limerians, huh?” Brion commented as he and Jonas marched side by side. They hadn’t been given horses like many of their countrymen. Instead, the chief had given them the task to keep an eye out for any stragglers and to ensure that everyone continued to move forward toward their destination. Brion likened this to being dogs trained to keep sheep properly herded.

“Very shiny,” Jonas agreed.

The Limerians were much better equipped than the Paelsians. He could spot most Paelsian recruits from fifty feet away. No helmet. No armor. And if a recruit held a sword, it was one that appeared rusty or blunt. Or, more likely, the Paelsians carried cruder weaponry carved from wood and studded with spikes. Still worked well enough to beat down an enemy, but it was far from perfect.

“Have you stopped obsessing about Princess Cleo yet?” Brion asked.

Jonas shot him a withering look. “I’m not obsessing.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m not.”

“Didn’t see her myself. Who knows? Maybe she was worth obsessing about. Gorgeous blonde, right?”

The mention of the princess had stripped any brightness from Jonas’s current mood. “Close your mouth.”

“Just remember, Laelia wants you back safe and sound, so try not to think too much of the princess. Got to get back to your betrothed as soon as possible.”

Jonas grimaced. “I never agreed to any marriage.”

“Good luck telling the chief. He’s already picking out your wedding gift.”

Jonas couldn’t help but grin just a little, despite the subject matter not being remotely amusing to him. He had no intention of ever marrying Laelia Basilius.

But Brion was right about one thing. He had been obsessing about Princess Cleo ever since he returned home to find that she’d escaped from the shed, her rescuers rendering Felicia’s husband and two of her friends unconscious. They were lucky they hadn’t been killed. Felicia had been furious about the entire situation and swore she’d never forgive Jonas for getting her involved. It would take time for her to cool off.

By now, the princess was very likely back behind the Auranian palace walls, safe and sound. The golden-haired viper was full of surprises.

Jonas cast another glance over the men who surrounded him. Some from Paelsia were as young as twelve years old. Not men at all. And the numbers weren’t nearly equitable. There were far more Limerians here. Probably three of them to every Paelsian.

Brion raked a hand through his messy hair. “Tomas would be proud his death has caused this kind of uprising. He would have liked to be here to help us destroy these greedy Auranians.”

“Right.” But Jonas wasn’t so sure. He’d been thinking way too much, ever since the meeting with King Corvin. The moment he’d looked at King Gaius and questioned his motivation—questioned why he’d split Auranos with the chief. Something about that interaction rang true to him.

King Gaius wasn’t to be trusted.

Jonas’s hatred toward Auranian royals drove his desire to crush those who lived here, to take what was theirs so his land could prosper—and that was what the Limerian king offered. He focused on following orders and marching like everyone else, eyes forward on the path ahead.

But something still bothered him. Confusion wasn’t a new development for him, but at a time like this, when he’d pledged his life to the defeat of another land, he’d like to fully believe in the core reasons for the battle. He wanted the pure clarity he’d had before.

The clarity that his people were dying, his land was fading, and while most—like his father—believed that it was fate, Jonas did not. The clarity that Auranos had everything and refused to give assistance or to return to the trade agreement that had gotten Paelsia into their grape-ridden mess in the first place. The clarity that, just like poaching from their land to feed the hungry bellies of his family, he could gladly poach their riches as well in the name of his brother.

Easy. With this army, Jonas believed they would succeed.

King Gaius had stepped in and offered his assistance and proved himself to the chief’s satisfaction. He’d earned the chief’s trust. But he’d never helped Paelsia in any other way before this. Only in this siege against Auranos did he suddenly appear with ideas and plans. With his ready army, trained for battle from oppressing his own people.

“What is it?” Brion asked. “You look like you’ve been chewing on the ass end of a goat.”

Jonas looked at his friend, opened his mouth, but then closed it again. “Forget it. It’s nothing.”

He couldn’t share his current thoughts with Brion, not when they were so dark and revolutionary. But still they rose to the surface and demanded his attention.

What if King Gaius changed his mind? What if he wanted all of Auranos to himself? If King Gaius played things the right way, he could conquer not one land...but two.

Everything would be his.

What if that had been his plan all along?

However, the question was, with the army that King Gaius commanded—Jonas looked around at it again, at the fierce men in their strong armor—why wouldn’t he have simply taken Paelsia first if that was his plan? Why bother teaming up with a weaker land? Why work so hard to gain Chief Basilius’s trust?

He sent a glance in the direction of King Gaius and Prince Magnus, riding their mounts, backs straight and tall in their saddles. Accompanying them was the Limerian princess, Lucia. At first glance, she appeared both beautiful and haughty to Jonas. He had no idea why they would bring her along on such a dangerous journey.

They looked so...royal.

Jonas hated royals—all of them. That much hadn’t changed. And yet the chief had irrevocably aligned himself and Paelsia with these royals. From this day forward, their destinies were joined.

Despite the warmth of the Auranian air, something deep inside him went cold at the thought.