Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(33)

Basilius had paused at the doorway, casting a glance back at the king and the dead valet. His brows drew together. His guards had their hands placed over their own weapons as if ready to defend the chief, but Basilius waved them off.

“He was your valet, was he not?” the chief asked.

The king’s face was tight. “He was.”

“More than that, if the rumors hold true.”

King Gaius did not reply to this.

Finally, the Paelsia chieftain nodded. “Thank you for paying me such a great honor. Your sacrifice won’t be forgotten. I will be in touch with you very soon with my final decision.”

The chief and his entourage left.

“Clear away the body,” the king barked at a few guards standing by. Together they removed Tobias’s body from where it lay. Only a pool of blood remained as evidence to what had happened. Magnus forced himself not to look directly at it.

He made no move to leave, nor did he speak a word. He waited.

It took several minutes before the king moved to stand behind his chair. Every muscle in Magnus’s body tensed. While Tobias hadn’t expected his death to come at the hands of his own father, Magnus would never underestimate the king in this regard.

He nearly jumped right out of his skin when the king clasped his shoulder.

“Difficult times require difficult decisions,” the king said.

“You did the only thing you could,” Magnus replied as evenly as possible.

“So be it, then. I regret nothing. I never have and I never will. Stand up, my son.”

Magnus pushed back from the table and got to his feet to face the king.

His father swept his gaze over him, from head to foot, nodding. “I always knew there was something special in you, Magnus. Your behavior today only solidifies that for me. You handled yourself very well just now.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been watching you very closely of late. After a difficult childhood, I believe you have grown into a fine young man—one ready for true responsibility rather than merely the continued leisure of a young prince. I grow prouder to call you my son with every passing day.”

That his father could ever be proud of him was a shocking revelation.

“I am pleased to hear that,” he managed to say evenly.

“I want you to be a part of this. To learn all you can so one day you’ll be able to take over my throne stronger for every lesson learned. I wasn’t lying in what I said before. Family is the most important thing to me, above all else. I want you by my side. Will you agree to that?”

Had this been a developing decision for his father or was the removal of Tobias, and the means in which he was removed, enough to trigger this sudden parental attachment?

Did it really matter?

“Of course, I agree,” Magnus said. “Anything you need.”

As he said the words, he realized he actually meant them.

The king nodded. “Good.”

“Is there anything you require of me right now? Or are we to wait until the chief sends message to you of his decision?”

The king glanced at the two guards who remained in the room. A flick of his chin toward them sent them out of the room so he could speak with Magnus privately.

“There is something, although it’s not directly related to my plans for Auranos.”

“What then?”

“It’s about your sister.”

Magnus froze. “What about her?”

“I know she’s close to you. Closer than she is to either me or her mother. I want you to keep an eye on her. If you notice anything about her that strikes you as unusual, you must tell me immediately. If you fail to do this, she could be in grave danger. Do you understand?”

His breath caught. “What kind of danger?”

“I can tell you no more than that for now.” His expression shadowed. “Will you do as I ask without further question? It’s important, Magnus. Will you watch over Lucia and let me know if you notice anything at all?”

The world felt uneven and jagged beneath Magnus’s feet. He hadn’t cared about Tobias, but the bastard’s death had deeply shaken him.

Lucia, however, he did care about. Whatever his father was asking for was directly related to the conversation Magnus had overheard between the king and Sabina on the night of her birthday. One of magic and mystery. And if it put Lucia’s well-being in danger in any way, he knew there was no answer for him to give but one.

He nodded. “Of course I will, Father.”





“I’m very pleased to announce to you all”—King Corvin spoke at the front of the great hall, upon the dais, to a large crowd of friends and nobles gathered for the celebration banquet—“that my youngest daughter, Princess Cleiona Aurora Bellos, shall be united in wedlock to Lord Aron Lagaris, son of Sebastien Lagaris of Elder’s Pitch. I hope that you can join with me in celebrating this happy and joyous union. To Princess Cleo and Lord Aron!”

The crowd cheered. Cleo tried to hold back her tears as she stood at her father’s side. She couldn’t see faces anymore, only blurry shapes. But she would not cry.

“Smile, Cleo.” Aron clinked his wineglass against hers as she sat down again behind the table filled to overflowing with the royal feast. The chiming sound made her spine stiffen. “You’ll make everyone think you aren’t thrilled about this announcement.”