Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(11)

“I believe in you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Then I guess I should set a good example for my dear brother.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. His breath ceased completely for a moment. “I must return to the banquet. After all, it is supposed to be in my honor. Mother will be angry if I just disappear and never return.”

He nodded and touched his bandage. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Hardly. But try to be careful with your temper while around breakable things.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She gave him a last grin and hurried back into the great hall.

Magnus remained where he was for several more minutes, listening to the buzz of conversation of the crowd of nobles at the banquet. He couldn’t seem to summon the energy or interest to go back in there. If anyone asked him tomorrow, he’d simply say that loss of blood had made him ill.

He did feel ill. The way he felt about Lucia was wrong. Unnatural. And it was growing by the day even though he fought to ignore it. For a whole year he’d barely been able to look at any other noble girl—now at a time when his father was pressing him to choose a future wife.

Soon the king would likely think that his son’s romantic taste was not for girls at all. Quite frankly, Magnus didn’t care much what he might think. Even if he did prefer boys, the king would still force him to marry someone of his choosing when his patience wore out.

It would not be Lucia, not even in Magnus’s wildest fantasy. Such incestuous unions—even amongst royals—were forbidden by both law and religion. And if Lucia ever learned of the depth of his feelings for her, she’d be disgusted. He didn’t want the light in her eyes when she looked at him diminished in any way. That light was the only thing that gave him any joy at all.

Everything else about this made him utterly miserable.

A pretty young maid passed him in the cool, shadowy hall and glanced at him, pausing. She had gray eyes and hair the color of chestnuts, bound into a bun. Her woolen dress was faded but neat and unwrinkled. “Prince Magnus, is there anything I can do for you tonight?”

While his beautiful sister’s very presence tortured him, he did allow himself a few meaningless distractions. Amia was extremely useful, in countless ways.

“Not tonight, my sweet.”

She moved closer, conspiratorially. “The king left the banquet and is meeting with Lady Mallius right now on the balcony, talking in hushed voices. Interesting, yes?”

“Perhaps.”

Amia had proved a useful tool over the last few months to learn tidbits of information. She was Magnus’s very willing eyes and ears here in the castle, and she had no qualms about eavesdropping for the prince whenever the opportunity called for it. The occasional kind word or the edge of a smile was enough to keep her loyal and eager to please. Amia believed he would keep her indefinitely as his mistress. In that she was destined to be disappointed. Unless the girl stood directly in front of him as she did right now, he tended to forget she existed.

Magnus patted her on the waist, dismissing her, and silently moved toward the stone balcony that overlooked the black sea and the rocky cliffs on which the castle and the Limeros capital perched. It was his father’s favorite spot for reflection, despite the cutting winter chill on nights like this.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the king hissed from the balcony. “It has nothing to do with such rumors. You’re being superstitious.”

“What other explanation could there be?” another familiar voice said. Lady Sabina Mallius, the widow of the king’s former advisor. At least, that was her official title. Her unofficial title was the king’s mistress, a position she’d held for nearly two decades. The king didn’t keep this a secret from anyone, not the queen or his children.

Queen Althea wordlessly tolerated his infidelity. Magnus wasn’t entirely sure the cold woman he called his mother cared one way or the other about what her husband did or whom he did it with.

“What other explanation for Limeros’s difficulties?” the king said. “Plenty. And none of them are related to magic in any way.”

Ah, Magnus thought. It seems as if the talk of peasants has also become a discussion for kings.

“You don’t know that.”

There was a long pause. “I know enough to doubt.”

“If any of this strife is based in elementia, it means that we weren’t wrong. That I wasn’t wrong. That all these years haven’t been a waste as we’ve waited patiently for a sign.”

“You saw the sign years ago. The stars told you what you needed to know.”

“My sister saw the signs, not me. But I know she was right.”

“It’s been sixteen years and nothing has happened. Only endlessly waiting. My disappointment grows with each day that passes.”

She sighed. “I wish I knew for sure. All I have is my faith that you must only wait a short time longer.”

The king laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “How long should I wait before I choose to banish you to the forbidden mountains for such deception? Or perhaps I can think of a punishment more suitable to someone like you.”

Sabina’s voice chilled. “I would advise you never to even consider such a thing.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning, my love. The prophecy holds as true today as it did all those years ago. I still believe. Do you?”