Immortal Reign (Falling Kingdoms #6)(60)

“Don’t waste time mourning me,” the king had said to him. “You need to focus only on what’s important now.”

“Oh?” Magnus had replied. “And what’s that?”

“Power and strength. When news of my death spreads, there will be many who would fight to control Mytica. You can’t let them. Mytica is yours now. You are my heir, you are my legacy. And you must promise to crush anyone who stands against you.”

Power and strength. Two attributes Magnus had always struggled with, much to his father’s disappointment.

But he would do as the dream version of his father suggested.

He would fight. And he would crush anyone who opposed him and wanted to take what was his.

Beginning with the Kindred.

He sensed Cleo’s presence before he felt her lightly touch his arm.

“It’s so strange to me,” he said before she uttered a single word.

“What is?”

“I hated my father with every fiber of my being, yet I still feel this incredible . . . loss.”

“I understand.”

He laughed darkly, finally glancing at Cleo out of the corner of his eye. She wore a gown of pale blue today, the bodice trimmed in small silk flowers. Her hair fell over her shoulders in long, messy golden waves.

A vision of beauty, as always.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he told her. “I know how you felt about him. You hated him even more than I did.”

Cleo shook her head. “You didn’t hate him. You loved him.”

He stared at her, not understanding. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.” She cast a glance down at the grave. “You loved him because he was your father. Because of his moments of kindness and guidance, even in the worst of times, even when barely perceptible. You loved him because at the end you began to see a glimmer of the strong relationship that could have become a reality between you.”

Cleo reached out and took his hands in hers.

“You loved him,” she said, “because you’d begun to have hope.”

Magnus turned his face away so Cleo couldn’t see the bottomless pain in his eyes. “If so, that was very stupid of me.”

She placed her hands on either side of his face and guided his gaze back to hers. “To love a father like Gaius Damora meant that you were brave, not stupid.”

“I hope you’re right.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. Cleo’s skin was cold against his lips. He placed his hand on her cheek. “You’re struggling today.”

Cleo smiled up at him. “I’m fine.”

“Lies.”

Her smile turned into a scowl. “I’m fine,” she said more firmly.

Magnus eyed her for a moment in complete silence. “Your hair, while stunning as always, looks like it hasn’t been properly attended to. Is your current handmaiden lacking in such skills?”

“Nerissa is the best when it comes to making sense of my hair,” Cleo said, twisting a long lock of it between her fingers. “I miss her very much. I hope she returns soon.”

“Hmm.”

Before she had the chance to stop him, he swept her silky hair back over her shoulder. She gasped and clamped her hand down on her exposed skin.

But he’d already seen the painful truth.

The blue lines that had been working their way up her arm were now visible on the left side of her throat.

“When did this happen?” he demanded. “When did you have another incident?”

That was what they’d started to call the drowning spells that seized her unexpectedly at any hour.

“Recently.” Cleo glared at him, as if angry that he’d discovered her secret.

He swore under his breath. “I’d counted on Lucia to help you, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

“She’s searching for her daughter. That is her priority right now, and I don’t blame her. She’s seeking a solution to all this, just not here, trapped within these walls. You saw what Kyan did to the nursemaid!”

The memory of the charred corpse returned to him, the smell of burning flesh. The thought that his newborn niece was in the clutches of the fire Kindred made Magnus’s blood boil.

Strength and power. The only things that mattered. He would find Lyssa and his sister. He had to.

“I need to find answers myself,” he muttered.

“I’ve been reading,” Cleo said.

“Books won’t help.”

“I don’t know about that. The right book, the right legend . . . there are so many in the library, and it seems as if the accounts of what happened a thousand years ago vary from scribe to scribe. We might find the answers in one of these books if we keep looking.”

Magnus shook his head, uncertain. “Have you learned anything tangible from these books you’ve been reading?”

“Well . . .” She twisted her hands. “One of the books reminded me about Lucia’s ring—the ring that belonged to the original sorceress. It controls Lucia’s magic, keeps it from overwhelming her. I was going to ask her if I could try it on to see what would happen now that I have this magic inside me, but she left before I could suggest it.”

Magnus stared at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now.”