Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(99)



“Because you have a right to know that we’re all in danger here.” His expression hardened. “The king has put us all at risk by refusing to surrender.”

Cleo inhaled sharply. “You think he should?”

“It would save a great many more deaths outside on the battlefield. Does he think that we can stay inside this castle forever, with or without a spell keeping the doors sealed? We’re no better than a cornered rabbit waiting for the wolf to tear out its throat.”

Cleo looked down her nose at this sniveling coward. “How dare you speak ill of my father? He’s making the best choice he can to keep Auranos strong. Yet you’d prefer he surrender to the King of Blood? Do you think that the world would be better then? Do you think those who have already lost their lives would be saved?”

“What do you know?” the guard asked darkly. “You’re only a girl.”

“No,” Cleo said firmly. “I am a princess of Auranos. And I support every one of my father’s decisions. And unless you too would like to find your severed head in a box, you’d do best to respect your king.”

There was now a cowed look to the guard’s expression as he lowered his head in deference to her. “My apologies, your highness.”

Cleo clutched the seeds so tightly in her hand they bit into her skin. “Get back to work,” she said icily before continuing on along the hall.

“That was brilliant, Cleo,” Nic said. “You defeated him with words.”

She gave him a sidelong look, almost amused. But worry creased her brow. “It’s not good out there, is it?”

He shook his head, his own amusement fading. “No. It isn’t.”

“Do you think we’ll lose?”

“King Gaius and Chief Basilius have a lot of men ready and willing to die for their cause. No matter how long this takes.”

“My father must never surrender.”

“If he feels he has no choice, he’ll have to.”

Cleo remembered the coldness in Prince Magnus’s eyes as he murdered Theon. She couldn’t bear to ever see him ever again. “No, he won’t.”

“Oh, no?”

She forced a confident smile, pushing away the dark memories. “Don’t you see? We can’t even think that we’ll lose—because we won’t. We’ll be victorious and send those greedy pigs back where they came from. Then when all is calm again, we can focus on helping those in Paelsia who really deserve our help rather than those who would steal our land in its entirety.”

“Put that way, I almost believe you’re right.”

“I am right.” Cleo held out the seeds in the palm of her hand. “These are going to make all the difference. When Emilia is healed, the world will be a brighter place full of endless possibilities.”

He nodded. “Then lead on, princess.”

When they arrived at Emilia’s door, Cleo didn’t bother to knock; she simply let herself in. Nic lingered at the door, respectful to her sister, who was tucked into bed. Cleo rushed to Emilia’s side, not able to keep from smiling. Emilia faced the window, too weak to even turn her head to see her sister enter her room.

Cleo could barely control her excitement.

“Emilia! You won’t believe what I have here. The seeds! Don’t ask me how it’s possible, but it is. This will cure your illness, I know it will.” Emilia didn’t reply, but Cleo continued. “Watchers are real—I met one, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. She seemed no different than you or me. And she wanted to help you.”

Cleo glanced over her shoulder toward Nic, who’d taken a tentative step inside the room. He looked distressed, his brows drawn together.

“Cleo...” he began.

“I know it’s been hard,” Cleo continued, sitting gently on the bed. “First losing the one you love. We have that in common now, so I know how you feel. But we must go on and face what’s ahead together. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be strong. Just like you told me to be.”

Nic put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged off his hand. “No, she’ll wake up. She’ll be fine. Better than ever.” She stroked her sister’s long honey-colored hair, splayed against the silk pillow. “Emilia, wake up. Please.”

“She’s gone, Cleo,” Nic said softly.

“Don’t say that.” Cleo began to tremble. “Please don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Emilia stared sightlessly out of the window at the star-studded sky. Her skin was cool to the touch. She could have been gone for hours—ever since Cleo left her earlier.

When Cleo tried to get up from the bed, her legs crumpled beneath her. Nic caught her before she hit the floor. The seeds dropped from her hand. The well inside her broke—the one she’d been hoping would keep holding. She began to sob, beating her fists against Nic’s chest. It was too much sadness for her bear. She would die from this. She wanted to die.

The answer had been in her hand, the answer to save her sister’s life. But it was too late. She had failed.

Emilia was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Nic murmured, taking her blows without complaint. He tried to pull her against him to comfort her, but she kept fighting.

Morgan Rhodes, Miche's Books