Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms 3)

Cleo opened her mouth to immediately deny any possibility of this. Since, thankfully, it was absolutely not possible she was pregnant. She and Magnus had not . . .

Well, they had not. Nor would they ever. She shivered with disgust at the memory of standing so close to him on the balcony the previous night.

Loathing, as Lucia had said earlier, was a pale word to represent her feelings toward the prince. Every time she thought she might see something more in him, something pained and vulnerable that pulled at her, she had to stop and remind herself of the unspeakable things he’d done and why she would hate him forever.

“If I am with child,” Cleo said as she brushed a hand over the folds of the pale blue gown that hid her flat belly, “it would be a very welcome surprise.”

Amara’s gaze grew sharper, as if she was assessing every inch of Cleo with much more scrutiny than she had last night.

“It’s so wonderful that you’re visiting,” Cleo said, changing the subject. “My father extended an invitation to your family years ago.”

“Auranos is very beautiful, but Father always believed that such beauty held no true value. I, however, completely disagree.”

Cleo exchanged a glance with Lucia, who seemed mildly alarmed by Amara’s candor. Cleo kept her mouth shut, the corners of her lips turned up into what she hoped was a pleasant expression.

“You must find life here so different from Limeros, Lucia,” Amara said, reaching out to touch a rose, carefully avoiding its thorns.

“It couldn’t be more different,” Lucia agreed.

“All that ice and snow, all those jagged cliffs. It’s much more pleasant here, isn’t it? If I spent more than a half-day in frozen Limeros I might throw myself into the sea so I could drown and be free from such unthinkable conditions.” She laughed, then realized that both Cleo and Lucia were gaping at her in shock. “Apologies. Kraeshians are known to speak their minds without hesitation. Don’t hate me for being blunt.”

“Of course not.” Lucia offered a smile. “No apologies necessary. Such bluntness is . . . refreshing. Isn’t it, Cleo?”

“Oh, yes,” Cleo agreed. “So refreshing.”

Amara considered Cleo closely. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see how well you’ve adjusted to your new life. I half-expected you to be confined to your chambers, allowed out only for meals. That the Damoras seem to trust you, their former enemy’s daughter, fascinates me.”

Amara might use the word blunt. Others would say rude.

Cleo struggled to find an appropriate reply. “My father was defeated because he wouldn’t bow down and surrender to King Gaius. Such conflicts are common over the world, in many kingdoms. I can only be grateful that King Gaius didn’t punish me for my father’s choices, and that he’s given me a home here with his family.”

The words tasted rancid in her mouth.

“And you’ve accepted it? Accepted your new family?”

Family. The word made her soul cringe. “As best as I can.”

“Cleo is a welcome addition. She’s like a sister to me now,” Lucia said.

While Cleo’s throat burned from having to speak such lies, her heart was lightened to hear Lucia call her sister. The fact that Lucia was willing to come to her defense after all but ignoring her just minutes before proved that Princess Amara’s admitted lack of tact might have the power to make friends of enemies.

“What a lovely sentiment, Lucia,” Amara said, her gaze moving down to Cleo’s hand. “What a lovely ring, Cleo. Wherever did you get it?”

Cleo resisted the urge to cover up the amethyst. “Thank you. It belonged to my mother.”

“It’s very beautiful.” Amara’s accented voice was even. “It’s almost magical how beautiful it is, really. You’ve very lucky to have it.”

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.”