Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms #3)(61)

“Apathetic, are you?”

Magnus shot a sharp glare at Cronus. “Yes.”

“If you say so.”

He did. And he returned to the palace by way of the darkening city streets without taking any more detours into dangerous places.

Once inside the palace walls, he went straight to the courtyard to be alone with his dark thoughts. His mind was still in a drunken fog, but he knew the morning would bring regrets about speaking so many secret truths.

The truth about Lucia’s adoption and his feelings for her.

And the truth about Cleo.

What truth about Cleo? There was no truth. She was merely a girl he’d been forced to marry. But if he felt nothing for her, why did he continue to protect her? He hadn’t even realized that’s what he’d been doing until she’d brought it to his attention, but she was right. Time and again, he’d chosen to keep her safe.

Magnus remembered all too clearly his encounter with Theon Ranus. It had been his first kill. At the time, he hadn’t known that Theon was protecting Cleo not only because he was a palace guard sent to retrieve the princess from a dangerous land but because he loved her. And she loved him.

It wasn’t just his father’s orders that had seen Magnus there that day. It was fate. Back then, he’d just been a boy with no experience in battle.

He’d slain the guard to save his own life. He regretted nothing about it now . . . except for the look of pure hatred in Cleo’s eyes after the deed had been done.

But she was the daughter of Limeros’s enemy. His father had conquered Cleo’s kingdom and she should be grateful that they’d allowed her to live another day.

That he even spared her a single thought when there were so many more important things to think about was beyond ridiculous.

Pacing the courtyard, he told himself that she was nothing more to him than an inconvenience.

“My goodness, Prince Magnus, you look rather upset. Is everything all right?”

He spun on his heels to see Princess Amara seated in the shadows on a nearby bench. The moonlight glinted against her dark hair and the jewels she wore at her throat.

“Apologies. I didn’t notice you there,” he said.

In the wake of the attack, the king had insisted that Amara stay at the palace for a couple of days, thinking there might still be some rebels nearby. It was a courtesy the king had extended only because he felt he had no other choice—potential enemy or not, it wouldn’t look good for him to throw this royal girl to the wolves.

“I’m glad for the chance to speak with you alone.” Amara stood up from the bench. “I wanted to apologize for what happened at the villa.”

Magnus tried his best to be as cordial to her as possible, despite his current mood. “What do you mean?”

“When I kissed you.” She looked up at him without a hint of shyness. “I feel I may have offended you.”

“Not at all.” If only stolen kisses from beautiful visiting princesses were his only problem.

Amara drew closer to him. “You and I have so much in common, don’t we? Our fathers are both important men with the insatiable desire to grow their power.”

“True enough.”

Amara was so vastly different from Cleo. She was just as intriguing and beautiful, certainly, but Magnus wasn’t drawn to Amara like a moth to a flame. She didn’t have the power to burn him to the ground with a look, with a touch.

She studied him through the darkness. “Sometimes it’s nice to find a kindred spirit, even if the situation is not entirely ideal. It’s good to find solace with someone like that, to perhaps indulge in a night of pleasure with an understanding friend when, by day, the world is full of enemies. Don’t you agree?”

He didn’t have to search too far to understand her meaning.

“I agree completely,” he said.

He pulled her to him and crushed his mouth against hers, breathing her in, letting her command his senses.

Yes. She was exactly what he needed tonight.





CHAPTER 18


CLEO

AURANOS



It didn’t seem to matter whether the previous day had been good or bad; the sun would always rise the next morning. And for the briefest moment, as warm rays streamed through Cleo’s window and touched her face, it seemed as if everything was back to the way it had been before. Her father and sister were alive and well. Her friends were preparing for parties and outings. The palace was filled with happiness and life.

But the daydream was over as soon as it had arrived, and she remembered that those visions were now only the ghosts of a past that continued to haunt her.

But she accepted this new reality. She had no choice here, only determination. And patience.

Nerissa arrived at her chambers to help her with her hair. The ex-seamstress had been assigned as her new handmaiden only yesterday, replacing two horrible Limerian girls. Seemingly capable of manipulating her way into any position at the palace, she had sought out the reassignment herself. This was an enviable skill, to say the least, and Cleo was grateful to have someone to talk to who knew the same secrets she did. Already Cleo had trusted the girl to deliver a message to Jonas about the king’s confirmed interest in the Kindred. She hoped to have more information to aid the rebels soon.

“Did you find out how many were killed?” Cleo asked now.