Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms 3)

Without another word, or even a glance in Nic’s direction, the Kraeshians quietly left through the nearest exit.

Lucky them.

Nic then went to stand sentry at the entrance of the great hall and wearily watched as the wedding guests ate heaps of food, listened to boring speeches, and toasted a bride and groom he couldn’t care less about.

Cleo was nowhere to be seen. At least one of them had managed to avoid what promised to be an endlessly painful evening.

King Gaius made his speech to the bride, orating about how he’d known her since she was a young girl, that she’d been as important to him as a second daughter. When the guests toasted the newlyweds, Nic had felt his bland and hastily eaten dinner churn unpleasantly at the insincerity of it all.

His speech complete, the king descended the dais. Nic watched as a guard approached him, leaning in close enough to speak confidentially.

On the king’s face, his perfect smile turned to stone.

He strode out of the hall without another word, the guard following dutifully behind him.

Clearly, he’d been given bad news.

Good, Nic thought darkly.

Shortly after this, Nic noticed several guards leaving their posts. Strange—the wedding would continue on until late that night and the king had insisted on extra protection. He didn’t want to risk repeating the death and destruction that had tarnished Cleo and Magnus’s wedding. But why was everyone leaving?

Nic soon realized he was one of the few guards who remained in the hall.

“What’s going on?” he asked Idas, one of a mere handful of guards who didn’t treat him like a pile of dung. Idas didn’t treat Nic well, either, but compared to Burrus and Milo, who were both currently held in the dungeon on suspicion of assisting the rebels escape, Idas was as a close to a friend as he had here.

“Trouble,” Idas replied.

“What kind of trouble?”

“Cronus is dead.”

Nic inhaled sharply. “How?”

“His body was found in the dungeon along with another guard’s. Both stabbed.”

“Who did it?”

“Apparently it was a prisoner who managed to escape. But our job tonight is to keep watch over the wedding. We’ll leave the hunt for fugitives to the others.”

Cronus? Killed by a common prisoner? Cronus had given Nic the impression he was practically immortal—a skilled warrior forged from steel, virtually indestructible.

It seemed that was only an illusion.

“Do me a favor?” Idas asked. “If you happen to spot Prince Magnus among the guests, tell me. The king will want to alert the prince about Cronus the moment he shows his face.”

“I’ll do that.”

Idas then went off to speak in whispers with another guard.

A prisoner had escaped and managed to kill two guards in the process? That just didn’t happen. Sure, there were escape attempts every now and then—such as what had happened with Jonas’s friends. But, to Nic’s knowledge, a prisoner had never successfully escaped the dungeon itself.

Until today.

But who had the prisoner been?

As Nic watched three more guards leave the hall, he found his curiosity was piqued enough to provoke him to leave his station. Not that it would matter. After all, who was monitoring the guards’ duties tonight? Certainly not Cronus.

No one paid him any attention as he made his way back toward the throne room. King Gaius stood at the archway, surrounded by more than a dozen guards.