Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms #3)(12)

Cleo saw the confusion in their eyes, questioning how she could bear living on in her father’s palace with a smile on her face only a few short months after his death. How she—a self-indulgent girl once known for her love of parties, friends, and wine—could be forced to wed the son of her enemy without constantly, desperately looking for a way to escape.

But these people had never really known Cleo. And they had no idea how far she would go to reclaim what had been stolen from her.

Some sought revenge against their mortal enemies with the edge of a sword. Her plan for vengeance began with the edge of a smile.

And if she was careful, no one, not even the man who’d crushed everything and everyone she loved into dust, would ever think of her as a true threat. .

She’d recently begun to believe that the handsome rebel who’d both kidnapped her and kissed her might be able to aid her. She hadn’t seen Jonas in over two months, but she thought of him often and worried about his fate. She had no idea whether he lived or died.

But she knew she couldn’t rely solely on him.

Cleo emerged from the palace and found Lucia in the palace garden. She forced herself to remain calm, to ignore her racing heart as she steeled herself and approached the other princess, who was cutting red roses from their stems and placing the blossoms in a basket.

What an ordinary pastime for a secret sorceress.

“Good day,” Cleo said as she came up alongside her.

Lucia’s shoulders stiffened, but she continued to pick her flowers. “Good day.”

There was no friendliness in the greeting, which sent a whisper of worry through Cleo. They’d parted as friends only a few days ago, but, what with Magnus’s return and the lavish victory banquet, Cleo hadn’t had a chance to speak with her alone and solidify their bond since.

No matter. Cleo had decided. They would be the best of friends.

Cleo conjured up her natural talent for being social and charming—a skill she hadn’t required in some time.

“Is there something you wish to say to me?” Lucia’s tone was alarmingly suspicious.

This would not be easy.

But Cleo remained composed. “Only that I hope I’ve said nothing to offend you. I was under the impression that we’d grown close after . . . what happened the other day.”

Lucia’s expression darkened. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I understand how difficult it must be for you.” To wield elementia so powerful that you can kill a living creature, Cleo thought. “But I’m here for you. I know I can help you.”

Lucia’s eyes shone icy blue beneath her raised brows. “Do you honestly believe you can help me?”

Oh, no. A short separation was all it had taken for Lucia to raise up her walls against anyone who might potentially be untrustworthy. Cleo would have to work very hard to break them down, stone by stone.

“I know what I saw,” Cleo said gently. “And I helped you. Just my presence was enough to help you contain your magic.”

Lucia wouldn’t look her in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You saw me with a dead rabbit, that’s all. It means nothing.”

A dead rabbit frozen in the middle of a warm room by deadly water magic. That certainly meant something to Cleo. In fact, it meant everything to her.

The pursuit of magic and the power it promised had become the central purpose of her life.

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone and I haven’t. We’re sisters now, Lucia.”

“Sisters.” Finally Lucia turned to face Cleo, her eyes flashing. “Why? Because you’re married to Magnus? You can barely look at each other. You loathe him and he you—I don’t care what you would have others believe.”

Venom rose in Cleo’s throat at these poisonous words, no matter how true they were. She wanted to strike back with her own poison, repeat the rumors she’d heard of Lucia and Magnus’s incestuous feelings for each other.

But she swallowed it all down instead.

She put on a mask of deep concern. “Is your magic troubling you again today?”

An edge of desperation flitted across Lucia’s eyes.

“I feel . . .” Lucia’s voice broke and she turned toward the rosebush. “I hate this. I hate being here. I hate these flowers and these trees and all I want is to go home to Limeros.”

But she wouldn’t be of any use at all to Cleo in Limeros.

“Because you felt more under control there?” she asked.

“Hardly. But it—it’s home.” Lucia let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. But the lightness vanished as soon as it arrived, and she once again looked harshly at Cleo, a frown creasing her brow. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to be your friend.”

“Why?”

Because I need your magic to destroy your father, she thought.

“Because in you I see someone who understands my world,” she said. “You’re the daughter of a king. Like me, you’ve had responsibilities and expectations thrust upon you your entire life. Very few understand how that feels. You do. And the other day I knew you needed me as much as I need you.”

“You need to forget what you saw,” Lucia whispered. “It’s too dangerous.”

A shiver coursed down Cleo’s spine. This sounded much more like a pained warning than a threat. “Dangerous for you? Or for me?”