Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(41)

No, Lucia had held her tongue and would continue to do so.

Sabina was right about one thing. Her father and Magnus had returned from the hunt. They were taking off their muddy boots in the foyer, a cylindrical room that had a ceiling as high as the entire castle itself. The smooth stone staircase cut into the cold stone wall, spiraling down to the main floor from the upper levels. Lucia quietly descended these stairs, keeping her brother directly in her sights. Despite the distractions she’d had since entering the castle, her anger toward Magnus hadn’t decreased even a fraction.

A messenger approached her father and handed him a letter. The king sliced the envelope open and quickly read it.

His brow raised. “Excellent,” Lucia heard him say.

“What is it?” Magnus asked.

“Chief Basilius has officially agreed to join forces with Limeros. He likes my plan.” His jaw tensed. “And he was deeply honored by my sacrifice.”

“Should I offer congratulations now or wait until after you conquer Auranos?” Magnus asked dryly after a moment.

Lucia stopped moving and inhaled sharply. Conquer Auranos?

“Before, during, after. It’s all good.” The king let out a humorless laugh. “This is all good news, my son. This is an important day that will live in infamy. And all of this one day will be yours. Every last piece of it. It’s my legacy to you.”

Magnus shifted his gaze as if he sensed Lucia’s presence. Their eyes met. There was a hint of something in his expression that Lucia hadn’t remembered seeing there before.

Greed.

It was like looking at a complete stranger. A chill went through her, freezing her in place. But it was only for a split second before his brown eyes regained their normal warmth and humor. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Lucia,” he said with a smile.

She chose to pretend that she hadn’t heard anything they’d been discussing. Her father despised eavesdroppers. “We must talk, brother.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke with Michol earlier.”

His dark brows drew together. “Michol?”

“Fine boy,” the king said with a nod. “I believe he’s smitten with you, daughter.”

Clarity shone in Magnus’s eyes. “He visited you, did he?”

“He told me of the talk you had together.” Her words were clipped. “Care to elaborate?”

A smile twitched at his lips. “Not really.”

She glared at him. How dare he find this even slightly amusing?

His smile grew. “I brought something back for you from the hunt.”

Her expression turned to distaste. “Something you killed?”

“Come and see.”

Lucia reluctantly approached, guarded as to what it might be. Despite his proficiency in archery, Magnus had never developed a taste for ending an animal’s life simply for the sport of it. Other boys had mocked him behind his back for this, but he didn’t care. He’d once told her that he’d have no problem hunting if it was to put food on the table but to kill for the simple sport of it would never appeal to him. Lucia was dismayed to think that had changed. The whirlwind of emotions that had been building swirled inside her.

Suddenly, the tall, heavy iron doors behind her father and brother slammed shut.

The king looked over his shoulder with confusion. Then he cast a quizzical look at Lucia .

She averted her gaze, her heart pounding.

Up ahead, Magnus pulled something from a basket. It was small, furry, and had long, floppy ears.

Its nose twitched.

“It’s a rabbit,” Lucia said with surprise. “A baby.”

“A pet. For you.” He handed the animal to her. It nestled into the crook of her neck. She felt its rapid heartbeat beneath her fingertips and her own heart swelled. She’d always wanted a pet, especially when she was just a child, but apart from horses and a few wolfhounds owned by the king, her mother had never allowed it.

“You didn’t kill it.”

Magnus looked at her curiously. “Of course not. A dead rabbit wouldn’t make a very good pet, would it?”

Its fur was so soft. She stroked it, trying to ease the animal’s fear. She looked up at Magnus, her throat tightening. “So you think this excuses you for scaring off Michol—and who knows who else?”

He gave her a wary look. “Does it help a little?”

She hissed out a breath but couldn’t keep the smile from appearing on her lips. “Maybe a little.”

Magnus was challenging, annoying, opinionated, and relied on his masks to hide his true feelings from the world far too much. But she still loved him and knew without a doubt that she would do anything for him, even when he tested her patience.

And she would tell him her secret the next time she had the opportunity. Maybe then he’d tell her what had been troubling him lately. Even now as he gazed down at her holding his gift, there was a deep and bottomless sadness in his eyes.





Cleo was absolutely certain her father would say yes. She waited until he was alone in his study and launched into a nonstop explanation about everything—although she didn’t touch on the topic of Emilia being romantically involved with Theon’s father.