Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(91)

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

He almost laughed. “If I kiss you right now, I assure you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want you to ever stop. Whatever happens, Magnus, we’re in this together. I chose you. And I need you. Unless”—she raised a brow—“you’re too drunk and you’d rather I leave.”

His gaze darkened. “Hardly. But the curse . . .”

“The curse is a fantasy, nothing more. Put it out of your mind.”

“Not sure I can.”

“It seems that I must be the one to make the first move tonight . . .” She brushed her lips along the length of his scar, from his cheek to his lips. “Like this.”

“Cleo . . .” he managed as he pulled her into his arms, but suddenly it wasn’t Cleo that Magnus held. He found that he clutched only air and blankets.

He realized with dismay that she’d never been there at all. It had only been a dream.

But it didn’t have to be.

He needed to talk to her, to get her to see reason. She would, he knew she would. And together they would find out the truth about Nic.

Magnus sat up, determined that today would be better than yesterday, but his head felt as if it was ready to explode. He groaned and gripped his temples, doubling over from the pain.

The wine. Paelsian wine had no ill aftereffects on those who drank it. All other inebriants, though . . .

Did others willingly choose to endure pain like this to forget about their problems for a night?

Magnus was furious with himself for giving in to something that had weakened him to this degree, but he had to overcome it. He had to focus on his goals.

He would go after Ashur himself. The Kindred needed to be reclaimed—for himself, for Cleo, for Mytica. And the way he currently felt, anyone who got in his way would die a very painful death.

The inn seemed strangely empty this morning. The princess’s bedroom was vacant, the door open. Magnus’s grandmother was nowhere to be seen, neither in the courtyard nor in the meeting room.

The king, however, was waiting for him at the dining room table, a full breakfast in front of him. The innkeeper’s wife—Magnus hadn’t bothered to learn her name—eyed him nervously as he entered and took a seat.

“Eat something,” the king told him.

Magnus eyed the spread of dried fruit, goat cheese, and freshly baked bread with disgust. The scent of it made him want to vomit.

The thought of any food at all made him nauseous.

“I’ll pass,” Magnus replied. “You look . . . well.”

“I feel well.” The king wore Xanthus’s golden ring on his left index finger. He raised his hand and inspected it. “Hard to believe there’s so much magic in this small piece, enough to restore me to my former self so quickly.”

“How long will it last?”

“Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Selia didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Magnus frowned, and a fresh wave of pain coursed through his head. “Gone where?”

The king tore a piece of bread off a loaf, dipped it into a bowl of melted butter, and chewed it thoughtfully. “Food even tastes better to me now. It’s like a veil of apathy has been lifted from each of my senses.”

“How delightful for you. I ask again, where is my grandmother?”

“I sent her away.”

Magnus blinked. “You sent her away.”

“That is what I said.”

“Why?”

The king put down his fork and held Magnus’s gaze. “Because she doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as we do.”

Magnus shook his head, trying to make sense of this. “She saved your life.”

The king scoffed. “Yes, I suppose she did.”

“You speak, but you make no sense. Did the bloodstone steal your sanity while it restored your health?”

“I’ve never felt more sane than I do at this very moment.” He glanced at the door where Milo now stood. “Milo, my good man, come and eat some breakfast. Magnus won’t be having any, so why let perfectly good food go to waste?”

“Thank you, your highness,” Milo said. “Is it true what I’ve heard? That Nicolo Cassian is dead?”

The king raised his brows.

“It’s possible,” Magnus allowed.

Milo smirked. “That is mildly disappointing. Pardon me for saying so, but I always hoped to kill him myself.”

Magnus found himself nodding in agreement. “He did have that effect on people.”

“Where’s Enzo?” the king asked. “There’s plenty of food here for him as well.”

“Enzo has left, your majesty,” Milo replied a bit reluctantly.

The king put down the bread and looked at the guard. “Where has he gone?”

“With the princess.”

The tentative way he said it made Magnus’s stomach churn. “Please be so kind as to tell me that the princess has gone shopping in the city and will return later.”

“Apologies, but I don’t know where they’ve gone, only that they left at dawn.”