Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms 1)
“You’ve seen nothing. Nothing? Truly?”
Magnus chose his words wisely. “Truly. There is nothing for me to report. She is as any other sixteen-year-old girl might be. To think she could be a sorceress—” His throat tightened. “It’s ludicrous.”
Lies did soften the painful truth a great deal.
“I refuse to believe that,” the king said through clenched teeth. There was a sheen of perspiration now on his father’s brow. “She’s the key, Magnus. She’s essential to my plans. I need all the help I can get.”
“What? You mean with Auranos?”
“Of course. Nothing else matters right now.”
“Surely our army combined with Basilius’s, though . . . ”
“Basilius’s? Ha. Untrained, underfed youths who’ve never held a sword before. Auranos, for all their lazy lifestyle, has an impressive military. No, we need a guarantee.”
A chill went through Magnus. “What about Sabina? If she’s a witch as you say she is, can’t she use her magic to help you?”
The king’s expression soured. “Whatever power she might have possessed as a younger woman has faded. She’s useless to me in this regard. No, it must be Lucia. The prophecy said she’d have endless magic—drawn from all four elements.”
All four. Magnus had only seen evidence of two so far—air and fire. But this meant that the other two, earth and water, might manifest later.
“With magic like that I could crush King Corvin and burn his world down all around him.” The king’s fists were clenched at his sides. “I could end him in a single day and take Auranos.”
Magnus swallowed hard. “Maybe Sabina was wrong about Lucia.”
The king cast a glare so sharp at him that Magnus’s scar began to sting. “I refuse to believe that.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to be patient.”
The anger faded from his father’s gaze and he regarded his son again carefully. “You love your sister, don’t you?”
Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course I do.”
“She’s a true beauty. She’ll make some man an excellent wife one day.”
His core turned hot as lava with immediate jealousy. “I’m sure she will.”
The king’s mouth twisted into a sinister smile. “Do you really think I don’t notice how you look at her? I’m not blind, my son.”
Bile rose in his throat, bitter and unexpected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Play innocent if it makes you feel better, but I see it. I’m a very smart man, Magnus. It doesn’t take only courage to be king, but intelligence as well. I observe because then I can use what I see to my best advantage.”
Magnus’s jaw tensed. “How nice for you.”
“And I see a brother who cares deeply—very deeply—for his beautiful younger sister.”
Magnus eyed the door, seeking escape as soon as possible. “May I be excused, Father? Or do you wish to continue playing games with me?”
“No games, Magnus. I shall reserve my games for the battlefield or the chessboard. Do you honestly think I don’t know why you haven’t shown interest in any other girl who might one day become your bride?”
Magnus felt ill at the direction of this conversation. “Father, please.”
“I know, Magnus. I see it in your eyes every time she enters a room. I see how you watch her.”
Magnus felt the sudden need to run away from here, far away. A desperate urge to hide his face from the world. He hadn’t shared this truth with anyone; he’d keep it buried deep, so deep inside that he barely glanced at it himself. He’d been appalled at the merest hint that Andreas might have some inkling of his darkest secret.
But now for the king to pull it out and flaunt it like some sort of prized animal he’d shot on a hunt, bloody and raw. Like it meant nothing.