Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms #3)(14)

Cleo’s stomach began to tie itself in knots.

She’d been wearing the ring every day now, hidden in plain sight where it couldn’t be lost. It didn’t appear to be any more special than her turquoise necklace or golden bracelet, and yet Amara had noticed it specifically, calling it magical.

Prince Ashur had questioned Cleo once before about the legend of the Kindred. And now Amara was here, telling her that this kingdom had more value than her father had ever believed . . .

“If you’ll excuse us, Princess Amara,” Lucia said, linking her arm with Cleo’s, “I’m afraid we’re rather late for our next class. Our tutor will be very upset with us.”

“You attend classes here together?” Amara said with raised brow.

“Oh, yes.” Cleo was quick to back up Lucia’s lie. “Today is embroidery. A very useful skill, but our tutor’s surprisingly strict.”

Cleo hadn’t taken a class in any subject since before the palace was attacked. Back then, she thought her education nothing more than a waste of her time that could have been better spent with her friends, but now the thought of her old classes filled her with bittersweet memories of a happier time.

When all of this was over, once she’d finally reclaimed her throne, she would take many classes and learn everything about every subject possible.

Except, perhaps, embroidery.

“Then you’d better hurry. Farewell,” Amara said. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Yes. Very soon, I hope,” Cleo said and smiled sweetly.

“I find her deeply unpleasant,” Lucia said once they were out of earshot. “She’s lucky I didn’t set her hair on fire.”

“You could do that?” Cleo said, alarmed and intrigued by Lucia’s frankness.

“If I wanted to.” Lucia glanced at her with the hint of a smile. “It’s so strange to me . . .”

“What is?”

“Being near you is so calming. I thought it was only an illusion the other day, but now I know it’s real.”

“Don’t you see?” Cleo squeezed Lucia’s arm. “We were meant to be friends. Despite the difficulties we’ve had, this is right. Trust in that. Trust in me. I can help you with your magic.”

“Perhaps,” Lucia allowed, a light frown creasing her forehead.

Cleo’s ring had taken on a slight glow from being so close to the sorceress. She repressed a smile.

Perhaps was a firm step in the right direction.





CHAPTER 5


MAGNUS

AURANOS



At the king’s request, Magnus and a select group of guards had set out to escort the prince and princess of Kraeshia to a large villa an hour’s journey northeast of the palace.

Rather than argue, he had instead grasped hold of the chance to leave the city and clear his head. The trip had been uneventful, surrounded as they were by a swarm of guards both Kraeshian and Limerian, including Cronus, the captain of the palace guard, who rarely strayed far from the king’s side. That Cronus had been assigned to join the party today was proof that the king took at least some interest in Magnus’s safety when he traveled beyond the city walls.

At last, they reached the villa.

“It’s beautiful,” Princess Amara said as she and her brother emerged from their carriage.

“Yes,” Prince Ashur agreed, sweeping his gaze across the lush green hills the expansive villa was nestled within. “More than adequate. It was very generous of the king to give us such a beautiful place to stay.”

Magnus nodded. “He’ll be pleased that you like it.”

His father disliked the Kraeshians, but so far Magnus had found them to be nothing more than an inconvenience, akin to persistent vermin that were immune to swatting. And his father refused to do anything more than swat at these pests, for fear that they’d alert their father and bring war down upon him.

It was unusual for King Gaius to fear anything. Yet ever since the royal wedding, where he’d nearly been killed by the earthquake, the king seemed to be increasingly fearful of his own mortality.

He should be.

Magnus dismounted from his black stallion and approached the large villa.

The front door swung open and a boy no older than five or six ran out along the pathway. Reaching Magnus, he staggered to a halt and looked up at the prince with wide eyes.

“You’re Prince Magnus, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“My mama has nightmares about you.” His little fists were clenched at his sides. “I won’t let you hurt her!”

Cronus stepped forward, but Magnus held up his hand to stop him.

“I assure you, young man,” he said, crouching down in front of the boy so they were at eye level, “I mean your mother no harm. But I’m very pleased to see she’s protected by such a fierce warrior.”

A woman with a large belly hurried toward them and gathered the boy into her arms. Her face was pale and drawn—qualities that were now more common than ever since the king’s victory.

“Apologies, your highness,” the woman said nervously. “My son, he . . . he speaks without thinking. He meant no disrespect.”

“None was taken.” The child’s words held no threat, only a mild sting that Magnus tried to ignore. The front door swung open again, and now a man exited the villa and joined the woman and boy. “And who are you?” Magnus asked.