Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms 1)

She tensed when she noticed Magnus standing there.

“I said nothing,” she whispered. “You have no right to be angry with me.”

“It was stupid of you to get caught.”

She turned back to her work. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. How this girl had survived so long in the Limerian castle, he honestly didn’t know. There was no steel inside her. No ice. No hardness at all. He was frankly surprised that a violent beating and twenty lashes hadn’t killed such a weak, soft girl outright. That she was still standing was a shock to him.

“I didn’t expect you to speak up for me,” she said quietly.

“Good. Even if he’d taken that knife to your eyes, I wouldn’t have tried to stop him. No one tells my father what he can and can’t do. He does as he pleases. And anyone who gets in the way is trampled.”

Amia didn’t look directly at him. “I have much left to do for dinner. Please let me get back to work, your highness.”

“No. You’re finished here. Permanently.”

He grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her along with him out of the kitchen and along the halls of the castle. He listened to her sobs. She likely thought that he was taking her back to the tower for more abuse—at his hand this time. Even so, she didn’t struggle.

Finally, when they’d emerged into the cold late afternoon air, he let her go. She staggered back from him and looked around, uncertain. Her gaze fell on the horse-drawn wagon waiting nearby.

“You’re leaving,” he said. “I’ve instructed the driver to take you east. There’s a well-populated village fifty miles from here that will make a good home for you.”

Her mouth gaped open. “I don’t understand.”

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.”

She stared at the heavy sack she now held, her brows drawn together. Clarity entered her expression and her gaze snapped to his. “Come with me, my prince.”

He had to admit, that response almost made him smile. “Impossible.”

“I know you hate it here. I know you despise your father. He’s an evil, cruel, heartless man.” Her chin raised as if she’d said something she was proud of. “You’re not like him. You’ll never be like him. You try to hide it, but you have a good, kind heart. 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.

Then he turned away and walked back into the castle.

• • •

The queen of Limeros was smiling. How . . . bizarre. Lucia eyed her warily as they met in the hallway.

“Mother,” she said, although she now knew that word wasn’t exactly the most appropriate one. Her initial anxiety and fear had since been replaced by outrage that this important information had been kept from her for her entire life.

“Lucia, darling. How are you?”

She snorted, a very unladylike sound that raised the queen’s eyebrows. “Apologies, but I don’t remember the last time you inquired about my well-being.”

The queen winced. “Have I really been so uncaring toward you?”

Lucia shrugged. “Now I know why. You’re not really my mother. Why would you care?”

The queen glanced down the hallway to ensure that they were alone. She drew Lucia a few steps down, into a secluded alcove. Lucia expected her expression to harden, but it did just the opposite.

“You should have been told a long time ago. I wanted to tell you.”