Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms 3)

But taken another way . . .

Magnus knew that rumors about his unrequited desire for Lucia were circulating the palace. Servants always enjoyed gossiping about people of higher stations. And sometimes they gossiped to those of higher stations.

“I’m very pleased to see that Lucia has been up and around the palace during my absence,” he said, ignoring Cleo’s unspoken accusations. “Have you met Princess Amara yet?”

“Briefly,” she said crisply and without warmth.

“Is she also to become one of your friends?”

Cleo’s demure smile remained, but her eyes stayed cold. “I certainly hope so.”

He couldn’t help but be amused by this girl. Princess Cleiona Bellos was an incredibly deceptive creature.

But there was something besides lies and passive aggression in her expression tonight. He saw fresh pain there—an edge of it that she couldn’t hide.

He waited for her to speak again.

Cleo returned her attention to the garden. “They buried Lord Aron today.”

His mouth went dry. “I heard.”

She played with a long tendril of her hair that had come loose from its pins. “I knew him all my life, through good times and bad. To know he’s gone now . . .”

Her grief over the fallen boy was misplaced. Aron deserved neither tears nor heartache from anyone, but Magnus understood grief. He’d felt it himself when his mother was killed. He still felt it, like a dark, bottomless hole in his chest.

Lord Aron had been betrothed to Cleo when, without warning, King Gaius changed their plans and bound Cleo to Magnus instead.

“How did he die?” she asked now, her voice soft.

“While battling the rebels who attacked the road camp we were inspecting.”

“And a rebel killed Aron?”

“Yes.”

Cleo turned and looked at him directly. “He died in battle. That sounds so . . . brave.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Aron was many things, but brave was never one of them.” She turned away. “Perhaps I had him all wrong. If he was courageous in the end—”

“He wasn’t.” All the acidity Magnus had felt this evening poured out of him through those two words.

Cleo regarded him with shock.

“Apologies,” he said, attempting to rein in the poison that threatened to leak from him in a horrible gush of truth. “Lord Aron acted in battle exactly according to his experience, which was lacking. He had no chance. I only regret that I wasn’t able to save him.”

Such lies. He wondered how she’d react if he told her the truth—that Aron was an insipid bootlicker, a pathetic wimp who’d sooner bow down before a conquering king and do whatever was asked of him without question than defend his or his people’s honor.

Aron only got what was coming to him.

Cleo watched him now with a frown.

“This topic has upset you,” she said.

Magnus turned toward the garden to shield his face from her. His sister and the Kraeshians were gone. “I feel nothing other than eagerness to end this conversation. Unless there’s anything else you wish to know tonight?”

“Only the truth.”