Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms 2)

Why would a watermelon care about a wedding taking place on a grape? To her, it seemed a waste of the prince’s time.

“Why are you here, Prince Ashur?” she asked, then cursed herself for being so blunt. The wine had succeeded both in clouding her judgment and loosening her tongue.

Luckily, he did not seem offended by her question. Instead, he smiled—a devastatingly charming smile that proved why most every woman who crossed this exotic prince’s path swooned at the sight of him.

“I have something for you, princess,” he said. “A wedding gift, just for you. Of course, I have also given a larger gift from my kingdom to both you and Prince Magnus in the form of a villa in Kraeshia’s capital, but this . . . this is a small token of friendship. It is something given in my land to a bride on her wedding night.”

He pulled a small, bound package from beneath his coat and handed it to her.

“Tuck it away. Open it when you’re alone. Not now.”

She looked into his eyes, confused. But she nodded and slid the small object into the folds of her gown.

“Much gratitude to you, Prince Ashur.”

“Think nothing of it.” He leaned against the balcony railing, gazing out at the rolling vista visible beyond the city walls. In the moonlight, his eyes appeared to be silver, but she wasn’t sure what color they really were. “Tell me of the magic here, princess.”

The question took her by surprise. “The magic?”

“It’s quite a history Mytica has for such a small group of kingdoms. Such mythology, what with the Watchers . . . the Kindred. Fascinating, really.”

“Just silly stories told to children.” She clasped her hands together to cover up her ring. There was something in the prince’s voice . . . something that told her he wasn’t asking this only out of random curiosity.

“I don’t think you really believe that.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “No, you strike me as the kind of girl who, despite her youth, has very specific beliefs.”

“Then that just proves how little you know about me. Ask anyone. I’m not interested in history or mythology. I don’t think very deeply about anything at all, especially not fantastical things like magic.”

Prince Ashur looked at her steadily. “Does the Kindred exist?”

Her heart began to pound harder. “Why do you care if it does or not?”

“That you ask that proves how little you know about me,” he echoed her previous words. “It’s all right, princess. We don’t need to discuss this right now. But perhaps one day soon you’ll wish to talk more about this with me. I plan to stay here for a while and explore. There are answers I seek and I won’t be leaving until I have them.”

“I wish you the very best of luck in finding your answers,” she said evenly.

“Good night, princess. And my sincere congratulations on your marriage.” He bowed his head and left the balcony.

Cleo waited until she was quite sure he had left before she put her hands on the balcony railing and leaned her full, drooping weight on her wrists. The Kraeshian prince was here not only to attend the wedding, but also to find out about the Kindred.

Which could mean only one thing: he wanted it for himself.

He couldn’t have it. No one could. If the Kindred did indeed exist, it belonged to Cleo. She had the ring that would enable her to use it—and use it she would, to reclaim her kingdom.

She rubbed her ring, then forced herself to return to the banquet. The king eyed her with displeasure as she approached the dais. His forehead was bandaged, some blood from his wound soaking through the gauze. “It’s time for you to go upstairs and prepare yourself for your wedding night.”

Her mouth went dry. “But, the feast—”

“The feast is over for you.” A hateful smile snaked across his face. He raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “I would like you all to bid good night to the bride and groom. We would not want to keep them from where we all know they’d rather be.”

Some laughter rose from the gathered crowd, many of whom by now had had enough Paelsian wine to help forget the troubles of the day.

“Go with Cronus,” the king said to Cleo, grabbing her arm so he could draw her close enough to hear his lowered voice. “You’ll be prepared as if you were any other blushing bride. No one will ever know your chastity is long gone. Consider yourself very lucky that I still consider you of value despite this rather large flaw in your character.”

Magnus did not even spare her a glance.

Cronus stepped forward. “Follow me, princess.”

There was no room for argument in the guard’s harsh tone.