Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)

by Morgan Rhodes

“I think you should leave.” Her amber eyes widened a fraction. “Are you denying me?” “I’d say that’s a good guess. Apologies, Sabina, but this is not something I want. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to warm your bed while my father’s otherwise occupied. But it won’t be me.”

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Lucia snarled. Seeing Magnus struck by this nasty woman had summoned a wave of anger from deep inside her, anger unlike anything she’d felt before. No—that was wrong. She’d felt it before. One time, three years ago, when she’d hidden behind a corner while Magnus had been reprimanded by their father for talking back to him in public. Magnus had tried to rise up and hit his father back, but he’d been beaten down. Her brother had finally run from the room and gone straight to his chambers. Lucia had followed him and found Magnus curled up in the corner, a frozen look of pain on his bloodied face that went much deeper than physical. She’d sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Hadn’t said a word, just sat with him and listened to his quiet sobs until they finally faded away to nothing. She’d wanted Magnus to kill their father for hurting him. No, that was wrong too. She had wanted to kill him herself.

“It’s all right,” Magnus soothed. “She was going to kill you.” Her words came in tight bursts. “And you saved my life. Thank you for that.” He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “You don’t hate me for what I’ve done?” “I could never hate you, Lucia. Ever. You hear me?”

“You allowed me?” She raised her voice. “I do what I want when I want.” “Which might be part of the problem. You’re so used to getting your own way that you fail to be cautious when the situation calls for it.”

“I know enough.” “No, you don’t. What happened to your brother was a tragedy. I don’t defend what Aron did because he was wrong. And I was wrong not to stop it when I had the chance. I was horrified about what happened that day. So you can hate me all you want, but I swear to the goddess that if you harm Nic, I will kill you myself.”

“I’m not a savage,” he snarled. “And I’m not a heathen.” “And I’m not an evil bitch who rejoices in the deaths of others.”

“You can’t tell her. Not yet.” Her voice was heavy with worry. “She’s a sensitive girl. She wouldn’t understand.” “If that’s what you think of Lucia, it only proves just how little you know her. No, the girl you raised as my sister may not share my blood, but she is a Damora. With that label, any sensitivity must be burned away as soon as possible if one wishes to survive. And Lucia now has the ability to burn many things away, should she choose to.”

“It was your brother who was killed that day in the market,” the king said to him as he passed. “I recognized your name.” Jonas nodded but didn’t meet the other man’s eyes. “Whether you realize it or not, your grief and desire for vengeance has caused you to align yourself with scorpions,” King Corvin said. “Be very careful that you don’t get stung.”

“I am Magnus Lukas Damora, prince of Limeros. It’s an honor to meet the princess in person. She’s every bit as lovely as I’ve been told.” She stared up at him in surprise. Prince Magnus. Of course she’d heard of him. But this was not their first meeting. He’d visited the palace with his parents when she was very young, only five or six years old. Her gaze moved to his cheek, where he had a scar that stretched from the corner of his mouth to his ear, and a sudden memory returned to her, one that she hadn’t thought of since she was only a child. A boy, crying, his cheek weeping blood. It dripped onto a colorful rug at the palace. His mother, the Limerian queen, handing him a cloth napkin to press against his face. She hadn’t gotten down on her knees and hugged him to her chest. His father, the king, growled at the boy to stop making a mess. This boy didn’t look at all like one who would cry over a little blood. In fact, the cold way he studied her made her feel as if she’d been touched by ice. Some might find him very handsome, but she did not. There was a cruel and unpleasant edge to his appearance. He made her immediately uneasy

“Theon!” Cleo screamed. Theon touched his chest and drew his hand away coated with blood. His pained gaze met hers again briefly before he collapsed heavily on his back, his eyes open and staring straight up at the sky. Magnus stood behind Theon holding a bloody sword. He frowned down at Theon’s body, his brows drawn tightly together as he shook his head. “He killed my men. He would have killed me next.”

“He wanted to take me back to Limeros as a prisoner. Theon stopped him.” Nic finally took the sword from her grasp. “He won’t take you. I promise he won’t.” Magnus looked up at Nic, his expression grim but relieved. “Thank you. I’ll remember your assistance today.” Nic glared down at him. “I didn’t do this for you, asshole.”

Magnus realized he was trembling. This guard had taken out two of his men. As soon as he turned around, Magnus could have been killed too. He’d had to strike first. And so he’d chosen to stab the guard in the back. Like a coward. He crouched down and looked very hard at the Auranian, knowing he would never forget the face of the first person he’d slain. The boy wasn’t much older than he was. Magnus reached over and closed his eyes.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Her voice was pitchy and muffled by her hand. “I’m sorry.” His heart hammered in his chest. Then he shook his head. “No, wait. I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long, but I was afraid.” Her hand trembled as she pulled it away from her mouth. “But you’re my brother.”

She would turn her back on him and punish him for this. For showing her how he felt. For opening his heart in ways he’d never done before with anyone. Magnus had always been a fool. A child. One who was easily beaten or abused by those who were larger or stronger or more powerful. All his life he’d endured so much pain and developed only a thin mask to cover his true feelings. But masks could easily be removed and smashed with only a few words. As of today, he was no longer a child. He had killed. He had lost the one he loved more than any other—and she would never trust him as she had before. Nothing would be the same with Lucia from this day forward. He’d destroyed that forever. And for a moment, all alone in his chambers, he clenched his fists at his sides and let himself cry over the loss of his beautiful sister and best friend. Then his heart, now broken into a thousand pieces, slowly began to turn to ice.

“I wanted to kill the prince,” Cleo managed. “I had the chance to, but . . .” “I wouldn’t let her,” Nic admitted. “If she’d killed Prince Magnus, I knew things would be even worse than they already are.” The king took this information in. “You were right to stop her. But I understand her desire for vengeance.”

“You really loved him.” “With all my heart.” She stroked Cleo’s hair. “So mourn Theon. Cherish his memory. Thank him for his sacrifice. One day, I promise this pain will fade.”

“I’m not strong,” Cleo insisted. “Neither heart nor mind.” “Sometimes you don’t realize how strong you are until you’re tested. As the youngest daughter in this family, you haven’t been tested very much in your life, Cleo. Not like me.” Emilia’s face shadowed. “But I believe you will be. Very soon. And you must draw from that strength. You must increase it. And you must hold on to it because sometimes that small glimmer of inner strength is all that we have to help us press forward through the darkness.”

Everything seemed so much simpler with his new outlook. He was the son of the King of Blood. And he would live up to that title in any way he could.

Magnus placed a sack of gold in her hands. “This should be enough to last you for a few years.” “You’re sending me away?” “I’m saving your life, Amia. My father will kill you. Soon enough, he’ll find a reason, no matter how small, and I’ll have to be a part of it. Watching you die doesn’t interest me. So I want you to leave and never return.”

Come with me and we could start a new life together. I could make you happy.” He took her arm and led her to the wagon, picked her up by her waist, and placed her aboard. “Be happy enough for both of us,” he told her.

“What’s going on?” “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” She bristled. “I think if there’s about to be an all-out attack on my home, then I need to concern myself. How can I help?”

No one can hold you down unless you refuse to get back up.

Jonas turned his attention back to the dying boy. “You were very brave to volunteer for this.” “My older brother and I weren’t given much choice. Had to come. If I could hold a sword, I would serve King Gaius.” Serve King Gaius. Hot anger worked its way up Jonas’s throat, thick enough to choke on.

Frustration coursed through Jonas. His heart pounded. “We need to pull back. Reassess before there are more casualties. A boy died in front of me, barely eleven years old. While I want to see Auranos fall, I don’t want our victory to be painted with the blood of children.”

Princess, please accept my apologies that I couldn’t tell you the truth about myself. It is a secret that I’ve held for many years that no one knows, apart from legend, not even my granddaughter. A pure heart is worth more to me than gold. Yours is such a heart. Use these precious seeds to heal your sister so she can help lead Auranos toward a brighter future. —Eirene

The answer had been in her hand, the answer to save her sister’s life. But it was too late. She had failed. Emilia was gone.

“What happened?” she exclaimed. A medic rushed in as the guards stepped back, and he cut through Magnus’s jacket and shirt to remove them. His arm had been sliced all the way to the bone. A vicious, bloody wound on his abdomen showed he’d also been stabbed. “I didn’t even know he was still out there until he was brought back here to camp on a stretcher,” the king said. “I hadn’t wanted him to be so involved in the combat so soon, but he likes to go against my orders. Foolish boy.”

“If you were anyone but my brother, I would let you die. But no matter how many men you kill, no matter how much of an ass you insist on being, no matter how much you despise me—I still love you. You hear me?” Pain slid through his gaze, and Magnus turned his attention to the wall of the tent as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her face anymore.

“Enough,” he snarled. That didn’t sound like eternal gratitude for saving his life. “Did it hurt?” He let out a snort, which could have been a pained laugh. “It burned into my bones like lava.” “Good. Perhaps through pain you can learn a lesson not to be so reckless.” Her sharp tone earned the full weight of his gaze. “I’ll try my best, sister. Though I’ll offer you no guarantees.” Her eyes stung. It took her a moment to realize she was crying, which only made her angrier. “I will stab you myself if you are ever so foolish as to nearly get yourself killed again.” His fierce expression finally eased. Her tears—infrequent as they were—tended to affect him, even when they were quarreling. “Don’t cry, Lucia. Not over me.”

There was deep pain on the king’s face. His eyes shone with tears. “This isn’t right. I’ve been a fool. Such a blind fool. I could have prevented this, but it’s too late now.” “No, it’s not too late. Don’t say that!” He shook his head. “They’re going to win, Cleo. They’re going to take it all. But you must find a way to take it back.”

“I love you.” Her father’s voice had grown strained, as if it took great effort now for him to speak. “I’ll always love you. Be smarter than me. Be a better leader than me. Help bring Auranos back to its former glory. And believe in magic . . . always. I know it’s out there waiting for you to find it.”

“I’ll be strong,” she whispered. “I’ll be strong for you. For Emilia. For Theon. For Auranos. I swear, I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done.”

“Beware of one thing, brother.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she was about to return to her small cottage. “Don’t overestimate your ability to deal with mortals, especially the pretty ones. After two thousand years, it could finally be the death of you.”

The injury was his own fault. He’d been distracted during battle when something caught his eye—golden hair streaked with bright red blood. The body of Andreas Psellos, his sister’s suitor and Magnus’s fiercest rival since childhood, lay in pieces on the battlefield. The sight had stolen Magnus’s breath long enough for an Auranian to land not one but two deep blows with his sword before he too had been slain by a Paelsian soldier. Andreas was dead and would no longer be a problem. The victory felt much more shallow than Magnus ever would have expected. He’d despised the boy, it was true. But to see him defeated, broken, bloody . . . It had bothered him.

The chief stared at him for a moment, a drunken glaze in his eyes, thanks to the two bottles of wine he’d drunk. Then he started to laugh. “You nearly had me. No, Gaius. I trust you to hold true to your word. We are like brothers after the blood sacrifice of your bastard. I don’t forget.” “Neither do I.”

“Just once,” Brion said under his breath, “I would have liked you to be wrong.” Jonas glanced at him. “I’ve been wrong lots of times.” “Not this time.” “No. Not this time.”

The girl whom he’d blamed for his brother’s death, the one he’d fantasized about killing to gain vengeance, the one who’d cunningly managed to escape her own fate, her shackles, and a locked and guarded shed. She was queen now. A queen in exile. And he had to find her. The future, both Paelsia’s and Auranos’s, now depended completely on her survival.

You shouldn’t be here, your highness. You need to leave immediately.” She glared at him and pressed her dagger closer to flesh to prove she wasn’t fooling around. “Says who? A Paelsian savage who pledges allegiance to the man who’s stolen my kingdom and destroyed my family?” His jaw was tense. “No. A rebel who wants to bring an end to the King of Blood.” Ignoring the danger the dagger presented, he leaned forward to brush his lips against her ear. “One day very soon, be ready.”

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” a hatefully familiar voice said. She looked to her right with alarm to see that Prince Magnus now stood next to her.

In any case, her fight was not over yet—not nearly over. It had only begun. And yes, Cleo would be strong. Just as her father and Emilia had asked her to be. She would be strong. She would reclaim her rightful throne. She would be queen.