Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(29)

Good. Out of sight, out of mind.

The lie slid smoothly.

Moving silently, he came across a boy waiting in the huge, high-ceilinged downstairs foyer with its winding staircase cut precisely into the stone walls. A son of local nobles, he knew. Again, Magnus was terrible with names. It wasn’t a memory issue, it was a lack-of-caring issue. He remembered the names of people who interested him or who served a purpose in his life. This boy didn’t interest him at all. Although the boy’s interest in Lucia was another thing altogether.

At previous gatherings Magnus had observed in the boy’s watchful eyes that he was one of many who had a crush on Lucia and that he was waiting for the potential opportunity to spend time with her and solidify their…friendship.

As Magnus did with many such suitors, he circled the boy like a sea monster, eyeing him with acute displeasure until beads of perspiration formed on the boy’s pale forehead.

Lucia had called Magnus handsome, but he knew many found his appearance—dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, and, of course, the scar—to be intimidating and menacing. That he was King Gaius’s son and heir to the Limeros throne only solidified this impression. Some kings earned their people’s respect through love—as his grandfather had done. His father, however, preferred to earn their respect through fear and bloodshed. Different process. Same result.

Magnus could use the perception that he was just like his father. He had before; he would again. One should use every weapon available when there was the need. Right now, there was the need.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Magnus told him thinly.

The boy nervously dug the toe of his leather shoe into the gray marble floor. “I—I’m just...I’m not here to stay long. My parents thought it would be nice if I took Princess Lucia for a stroll around the palace grounds. It’s not too cold today.”

“Yes, how nice.” The words were acid on his tongue as jealousy flashed through him like a bolt of lightning. “But she isn’t interested in walks around the palace grounds. Not with, well...not with you.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Magnus forced a tense look on his face as if he’d said too much and now felt guilty. “It’s really none of my business.”

“No, please. If you have any advice for me, I’d welcome it. I know you and Lucia are very close.”

Magnus told hold of the boy’s shoulder. “It’s just that she’s mentioned you to me.” This would be an excellent time to know the boy’s name—Mark, Markus, Mikah, something like that. “And she made it clear that if you ever stopped by, you should not be encouraged any further. She means no offense, of course. But...her interests in a potential suitor lie elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?”

“Yes. So that is where I suggest you go. Elsewhere.”

“Oh.” The boy’s voice was weak and reedy. Already defeated.

Magnus had no patience for anyone who would be manipulated so easily. If the boy was truly interested in Lucia, he should be able to stand up to any adversity, including an overprotective older brother.

Weak things are so very easy to break.

If the boy had a tail, it would be tucked between his legs as he scurried away from the castle and back to his parents’ villa. And that was the end of Mikey. Or whatever his name was.

With a victorious smile on his face, Magnus returned to slowly prowling the castle hallways. It didn’t take him long before he came across something a bit more pleasant than one of his sister’s admirers.

Amia smiled at him as they passed in the hall and then curled her finger, beckoning him to follow as she disappeared behind the corner up ahead. She led him into a small room used as the servants’ chapel and closed the door behind them. They were alone. The girl bit her bottom lip, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages, my prince.”

“It’s only been a day or two.”

“An eternity.” She placed her hands against his abdomen and slid them slowly up over his shoulders.

He let her. He craved someone’s touch today to help quell the ache in his chest. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that she was someone else. She shivered as he pressed her up against the stone wall and brought his mouth down to hers in a deep kiss. He threaded his fingers through her soft brown hair and imagined it flowed down to her waist and was the color of richest ebony. That her eyes were the color of the sky in summer, not a pale and wintry gray.

“Have you learned anything?” he asked, finally pushing away the fantasy. Amia smelled of the fish she’d been helping to prepare for dinner rather than of roses and jasmine. He could only fool himself so much.

“About your sister?”

His throat tightened. “Yes.”

“Not yet.” She gazed up at him as if entranced. “However, there’s something else interesting happening as we speak. The king and Tobias are in a secret meeting with visitors.”

Tobias, he thought with distaste. Always lurking about. “What visitors?”

“Chief Basilius arrived with an entourage an hour ago.”

He stared at her, momentarily rendered speechless. “You can’t be serious.”

She grinned. “I was looking for you to let you know. If the Paelsian chieftain, one who never makes public appearances, has traveled to Limeros to speak with the king, something very interesting must be happening, don’t you think?”