Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(27)
Lucia nodded, picking the book up off the lounge where it had fallen and tucking it under a pile of her less controversial books. “I’d like to meet her.”
“Unlikely. Father hates Auranos and wishes for its ultimate demise. Ever since...well, you know.”
Oh, she did. Her father despised King Corvin Bellos and wasn’t afraid of expressing his opinion over meals in a fearsome burst of anger whenever the mood struck. Lucia believed the animosity had much to do with a banquet at the Auranos palace more than ten years ago. The two kings had come nearly to blows due to a mysterious injury Magnus had received during the visit. King Gaius hadn’t returned since. Nor had he been invited.
The reminder of this trip made Magnus absently touch his scar—one that stretched from the top of his right ear to the corner of his mouth.
“After all this time, you still don’t remember how you got that?” She’d always been very curious about it.
His fingers stilled as if he too had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. “Ten years is a long time. I was only a boy.”
“Father demanded whoever cut you should pay with his life.”
“He wanted the culprit’s head delivered on a silver platter, actually. Seeing a crying, bleeding child troubled our father. Even when that child was me.” His dark brows drew together. “Honestly, I don’t remember anything. I only recall wandering off, then feeling the hot trickle of blood on my face and the sting of the wound. I didn’t get upset until Mother got upset. Perhaps I stumbled down a set of stairs or whacked myself on the edge of a sharp door. You know how clumsy I am.”
“Hardly.” Her brother moved with the grace of a panther—sleek, quiet. Many might think him deadly, given he was the son of the iron-fisted King Gaius. “I’m the clumsy one in this family.”
“I beg to disagree with that.” His lips curved to the side. “One of grace and beauty, my sister, with a multitude of suitors at her beck and call. Forced to be siblings with a scarred monster like me.”
“As if that scar makes you a monster.” The thought was laughable. “You can’t be blind to how girls look at you—I even see maids here in the castle wistfully watch you pass, even if you never notice them. They all think you’re devastatingly handsome. And your scar only makes you more...” She took a moment to think of the right word. “Intriguing.”
“You really think so?” His chocolate-brown eyes glinted with amusement.
“I do.” She brushed his dark hair, long overdue for a trim, off his cheek to inspect the faded scar closer. She slid her index finger over it. “Besides, it’s barely noticeable anymore. At least, I don’t see it.”
“If you say so.” His voice sounded strangled now and his expression had shifted to one of distress. He roughly pushed her hand away.
She frowned. “Is something wrong?”
Magnus stepped back a few feet from her. “Nothing. I—I came up here to...” He ran a hand through his hair. “Never mind. You probably wouldn’t be interested. There’s some impromptu political meeting downstairs Father has called. I’ll leave you to your studies.”
Lucia watched with surprise as he swiftly left her room without another word.
Something was troubling her brother. She’d noticed it lately, each day worse than the last. He seemed distracted and deeply distressed by something, and she wished she knew what it was. She hated to see him so upset and not know how to help ease his pain.
And she also wished very much that she could share her own secret, the one she’d been hiding for nearly a month—the one no one knew. No one at all.
Pushing aside her fear and uncertainty, she prayed to the goddess for enough strength, faith, and wisdom to weather the dark storm she feared was drawing closer.
? ? ?
Magnus followed the noise downstairs toward the castle’s great hall. He pushed past several recognizable faces—boys of his age who considered him their friend. He offered them stiff smiles and received the same in return.
They weren’t his true friends—not one of them. They were the sons of his father’s royal council, who were basically required to be acquainted with the Limerian prince whether they liked it or not. And a few, as Magnus had overheard in passing, didn’t like him at all.
Irrelevant.
He assumed every one of these boys—and their sisters, who would be more than eager if Magnus chose one of them as his future bride—was ready to use him whenever the occasion called for it. He was happy to do the same when it served his purposes.
He trusted not a single one of them. Only Lucia. She was different. She was the only one with whom he could ever be truly himself without putting on any act. She was his closest confidant and ally. They’d shared so many secrets over the years, trusting each other to keep their silence.
And he’d just escaped from her chambers as if they’d been set on fire.
The secret of his growing desire for Lucia would have to be kept silent from everyone. Especially her. Forever. He would keep it buried deep in his chest until the fiery pain left only ash where his heart once was. He was already half there to begin with. Maybe when his heart had finally been burned away, everything would be easier.
It had been more than a month since the banquet, and he hadn’t learned anything of interest that would elucidate the enigmatic conversation he’d heard between his father and Sabina. He’d asked Amia to pay special attention as she eavesdropped throughout the castle. If she ever heard Lucia’s name, she was to report immediately back to him. The young maid had eagerly agreed to this much as she eagerly agreed to anything Magnus had ever required of her.