Falling Kingdoms (26 page)

C
leo 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 how strong you are until you’re tested. As the youngest daughter in this family, you haven’t been tested very much in your life, Cleo. Not like me.” Emilia’s face shadowed. “But I believe you will be. Very soon. And you must draw from that strength. You must increase it. And you must hold on to it because sometimes that small glimmer of inner strength is all that we have to help us press forward through the darkness.”

Cleo clutched her sister’s hands. “And you must also be strong. I will send a guard back to Paelsia to continue my search. And he will
be successful.”

Theon had promised he would go. Now she would have to find another to take his place. If Emilia had enough strength to leave her bed and come to Cleo’s side in the middle of the night, there was still hope for her recovery.

“I’ll try,” Emilia said, a weary tone to her voice. She turned her head to look out the window. “I’ll try very hard to be strong. For you.”

“Good.” The sisters were quiet for a moment. Emilia continued to gaze at the stars.

“You need to know that Limeros and Paelsia are gathering an army to enter Auranos in the coming weeks. They expect that Father will give up the moment they arrive.”

Panic swelled in Cleo’s chest. “He can’t give up.”

“If there isn’t an immediate surrender, they’ll fight to take the palace.”

An anger burned inside Cleo’s chest. “What will he do?”

Emilia’s grip on her hands tightened. “Had you been in the Limerian’s clutches, I think he would have done anything to save your life.”

“And now that I’m back?”

“Now,” Emilia said, gazing into her sister’s eyes, “if King Gaius is looking for a war, a war is exactly what he’ll get.”

M
agnus 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 had survived so long in the Limerian castle, he honestly didn’t know. There was no steel inside her. No ice. No hardness at all. He was frankly surprised that a violent beating and twenty lashes hadn’t killed such a weak, soft girl outright. That she was still standing was a shock to him.

“I didn’t expect you to speak up for me,” she said quietly.

“Good. Even if he’d taken that knife to your eyes, I wouldn’t have tried to stop him. No one tells my father what he can and can’t do. He does as he pleases. And anyone who gets in the way is trampled.”

Amia didn’t look directly at him. “I have much left to do for dinner. Please let me get back to work, your highness.”

“No. You’re finished here. Permanently.”

He grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her along with him out of the kitchen and along the halls of the castle. He listened to her sobs. She likely thought that he was taking her back to the tower for more abuse—at his hand this time. Even so, she didn’t struggle.

Finally, when they’d emerged into the cold late afternoon air, he let her go. She staggered back from him and looked around, uncertain. Her gaze fell on the horse-drawn wagon waiting nearby.

“You’re leaving,” he said. “I’ve instructed the driver to take you east. There’s a well-populated village fifty miles from here that will make a good home for you.”

Her mouth gaped open. “I don’t understand.”

Magnus placed a sack of gold in her hands. “This should be enough to last you for a few years.”

“You’re sending me away?”

“I’m saving your life, Amia. My father will kill you. Soon enough, he’ll find a reason, no matter how small, and I’ll have to be a part of it. Watching you die doesn’t interest me. So I want you to leave and never return.”

She stared at the heavy sack she now held, her brows drawn together. Clarity entered her expression and her gaze snapped to his. “Come with me, my prince.”

He had to admit, that response almost made him smile. “Impossible.”

“I know you hate it here. I know you despise your father. He’s an evil, cruel, heartless man.” Her chin raised as if she’d said something she was proud of. “You’re not like him. You’ll
never
be like him. You try to hide it, but you have a good, kind heart. Come with me and we could start a new life together. I could make you happy.”

He took her arm and led her to the wagon, picked her up by her waist, and placed her aboard.

“Be happy enough for both of us,” he told her.

Then he turned away and walked back into the castle.

• • •

The queen of Limeros was smiling. How . . . bizarre. Lucia eyed her warily as they met in the hallway.

“Mother,” she said, although she now knew that word wasn’t exactly the most appropriate one. Her initial anxiety and fear had since been replaced by outrage that this important information had been kept from her for her entire life.

“Lucia, darling. How are you?”

She snorted, a very unladylike sound that raised the queen’s eyebrows. “Apologies, but I don’t remember the last time you inquired about my well-being.”

The queen winced. “Have I really been so uncaring toward you?”

Lucia shrugged. “Now I know why. You’re not really my mother. Why would you care?”

The queen glanced down the hallway to ensure that they were alone. She drew Lucia a few steps down, into a secluded alcove. Lucia expected her expression to harden, but it did just the opposite.

“You should have been told a long time ago. I wanted to tell you.”

“You did?” Lucia gave her a look of sheer disbelief.

“Yes, of course. Something so important shouldn’t have come as a shock to you. I apologize for that.”

“You do?”

“I do.
Truly
. Even though I am queen here, I still must do as the king commands. He didn’t want you to know. He was afraid you’d be upset when you learned the truth before it was the right time.”

“I
am
upset! Where is my real mother? How can I find her?”

Again, the queen cast a glance down the hallway as if fearful that anyone was listening. This was a secret, after all. Goddess forbid that anyone learn that the Limerian princess was born in Paelsia.

“She’s dead.”

Lucia’s breath caught. “How did she die?”

The queen’s lips thinned. “Sabina killed her.”

“Why would she do such a horrible thing?” Nausea rose inside her.

“Because Sabina Mallius was a vile, evil bitch who deserved her fate.”