Immortal Reign(28)

“A demon, am I?” Lucia said under her breath, tasting the word and not finding it as unpleasant as she would have thought.

People feared demons.

She had quickly learned that fear was a very useful tool.

“Your majesty,” Lord Gareth said, shaking his head. “I am your humble servant, as always. I sense that you are unhappy with Kurtis and, perhaps, with me as well. Please tell me how we can make amends.”

The king’s face was a mask, showing no hint of his emotions beneath. “Your majesty, you say. As if you haven’t pledged your devotion to Amara and only Amara.”

“Only words, your highness. Do you think she would have let me stay here without such a promise? But I have no doubt your power will be restored now that she has departed these shores.”

“So you admit that you’re a liar,” Lucia said.

He frowned at her. “I admit no such thing.”

“Where is Kurtis?” she bit out, her patience swiftly waning.

“Right now? I don’t know.”

Lucia glanced at her father, who nodded. She returned her attention to the weasel before her. “Look at me, Lord Gareth.”

The man shifted his gaze to hers.

She concentrated, but found it difficult for a moment to summon her magic. Difficult, but not impossible. “Tell me the truth. Have you seen your son?”

“Yes,” Lord Gareth said, the word shooting out of his mouth as swiftly and heavily as a cannonball. His forehead furrowed. “What did I . . . ? I didn’t mean to say that.”

Lucia kept his troubled gaze locked with hers, while grappling to hold on to her own magic, which felt like sand slipping from between her fingers. “When did you see him?”

“Earlier today. He begged for my help. He said he’d been tortured—that Nicolo Cassian had burned him. And he confessed to what he’d done to Prince Magnus.”

Gareth clamped his mouth shut so hard his teeth made a crunching sound. Blood began to trickle from his nose.

The blood helped.

Even a prophesied sorceress could use blood to strengthen her magic.

“Don’t try to fight against this,” Lucia said. She couldn’t focus on the jarring mention of Nic Cassian right now. That could wait for later. “What did Kurtis confess to you?”

“He . . . he . . .” Gareth’s face had turned red, nearly purple, as he strained against Lucia’s magic. “He . . . murdered . . . Prince Magnus.”

The confirmation was a blow, stealing her breath. She fought to hold on to the magic she used to draw the truth from the lord’s lying lips. “How?”

“Buried him alive . . . in a nailed wooden box. So he . . . would . . . suffer before he died.”

Lucia’s throat constricted, and her eyes began to sting. It was just as she’d seen during the location spell. “Where is Kurtis now?”

His eyes glazed over, and the blood from his nose dripped to the white marble floor. “I told the little fool to run. To hide. To protect himself however necessary. That the king’s heir wasn’t someone to be thrown away like the contents of a chamber pot, that there would be ramifications.”

“Yes,” Lucia said, her expression one of sheer hatred. “There most definitely will be.”

With that, she released her tenuous magical control of the man. He produced a handkerchief from the pocket of his overcoat and wiped at his bloody nose, his gaze frantically moving to Gaius, who had silently listened to his confession.

Trembling with outrage, it took every last ounce of Lucia’s control not to kill Lord Gareth where he stood.

“I’m glad you’ve spoken the truth, even if it had to be under duress,” Gaius said, finally, when all had gone silent.

Lord Gareth gasped. “Your highness, he’s my son. My boy. I fear for his safety even though I know he’s done such horrible and unforgivable things.”

The king nodded. “I understand. I feel the same”—a small muscle in his cheek twitched—“felt the same way about Magnus. I know my own reputation for being unforgiving when crossed. I’m not ignorant to the fears I raise in others and how strongly they would want to avoid punishment.”

“And I have stood by your side as you’ve doled out those punishments. Approved all . . . all until now. And now I must beg you for lenience.”

“I understand why you did it—why you’d wish to help your son. What’s done is done.”

Lord Gareth straightened his shoulders. “I am so relieved that you understand my position in this unfortunate matter.”

“Yes, I do. I would have done exactly the same.”

Lord Gareth let out a shuddery sigh as he clamped his hand down on the king’s shoulder. “Much gratitude, my friend.”

“However, I find I cannot forgive you.” In one swift motion, Gaius pulled a knife from within his surcoat and sliced it across the lord’s throat.

Lord Gareth’s hands flew to stanch the immediate flow of blood.

“When I find Kurtis,” the king said, “I promise that he will die very, very slowly. Perhaps he’ll even scream for you to save him. I look forward to telling him that you’re already dead.”

Lucia couldn’t say she’d been surprised by her father’s actions. In fact, she wholly approved.