Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms 1)

Magnus shrugged. “Did you just want to get an update on my hobbies or were we to discuss more important matters?”

The king leaned back in his iron and black leather throne and regarded his son. “You remind me so very much of myself at your age. It’s truly uncanny.”

Magnus wasn’t sure if this was meant to be taken as a compliment or an insult.

“How go your plans with Chief Basilius?” he asked, wanting to shift the focus off himself.

“Everything is lining up. Don’t worry, my son, I’ll keep you informed of every important step. And I’ll be requiring your assistance in larger matters very soon.”

Since the position of the king’s valet was currently vacant due to the unexpected death of Tobias, Magnus was certain the king would need a new personal assistant to bridge such a gap. It sounded as if it would be him.

“As the king wishes, I obey.” It was nearly impossible to say without noticeable sarcasm. Old habits died hard.

“I did call you here for a specific reason.” The king studied him for a moment. “What of Lucia? Have you noticed anything unusual about her?”

Magnus knew this was coming, so he was prepared. He glanced briefly off to the side to see the Damora coat of arms, bearing the familiar words Strength, Faith, and Wisdom. “I’ve been watching her very closely, but she seems just as she’s always been. If she appears distracted to you in some small way, maybe she just has a crush on some insipid boy.”

“No, it wouldn’t be something as meaningless as that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know exactly what I should even be watching for, would I? You refuse to share any details with me.”

So much for him being a part of the king’s important future plans for this kingdom. Perhaps those were only words. The thought was oddly disappointing.

The king leaned forward from his plain but intimidating iron throne—the ornate golden, jeweled one Magnus’s grandfather had ruled from had been permanently removed years ago. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “I think you might be ready to learn the truth.”

Magnus raised a brow, surprised. “So tell me.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re not only a boy anymore. You are very nearly a man and as such should be included in everything I do. Honestly,”—the king stood up from his seat and walked a slow circle around Magnus, his gaze sweeping the length of his son with an odd mix of criticism and approval—“it’s like looking into my past. Sabina mentioned this to me only the other day.”

“Sabina mentioned what?”

“How very alike we are. You know, I met her when I was not much older than you.”

Magnus’s stomach soured. “How nice for you. Was she already married back then or did you wait until after her nuptials to bed her?”

The king gave him a thin smile. “Your tongue is tipped with spikes. But that’s all right. A future king needs every weapon he can get at his disposal. Trust me, when you’re on the throne, there will be very few you can trust.”

“And yet you trust Sabina?”

“I do.”

The only way to get answers from this impossible man was to ask questions directly—while not appearing to really care about the answers, of course. If he seemed too eager, he knew his father would continue to withhold the truth from him indefinitely.

“What prophecy is it that relates to Lucia? What are you waiting to see from her?”

The king didn’t say anything for a long time. His eyes narrowed. “You know how I feel about those who listen in on my private conversations, Magnus.”

He cringed internally. Sometimes even he knew not to speak so bluntly unless he wanted his father to lash out. It was difficult to remember sometimes. But he was on edge and having a difficult time controlling himself. His mask of indifference usually served him much better than this.

Learning that Lucia was a witch, however, had knocked his world off balance. He’d found that the mask he’d depended on had shifted. It was difficult to set it back into its proper position without great effort.

Magnus was certain his father would not answer him. Perhaps he would send him away without any new information. That would be fine since he could go immediately to Lucia’s chambers and continue with her practice.

Finally the king spoke. “If I admit something like this to you, Magnus, we’re treading on very dangerous ground.”

fore, he’d made sure that they argued frequently. It didn’t take very much at all to bring a flush to her cheeks.

It would still take her a while to open herself up to her magic completely. Even if she wouldn’t readily admit this, she feared it. That which one fears, one typically won’t embrace with open arms.