Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)
“Yes, go.” It was the best decision for everyone. Cleo had become a dangerous distraction, and Nic was at best an annoyance and at worst a threat. “That is an order.”
He looked up at Cleo, expecting to see relief in the princess’s eyes.
Instead, all he saw was outrage.
“An order, is it?” she hissed. “I’m sure it would make things much easier for you if we weren’t around, yes? Much easier to find your sorceress sister and get your hands on the remaining crystals.”
The reminder of Lucia, who had eloped to Limeros with Alexius, her Watcher tutor, was an unexpected blow. There had been blood on the floor when they’d arrived at the temple—and it could have very well been Lucia’s.
She has to be alive. He refused to think any other way. She was alive, and when he found her he was going to kill Alexius.
“Think whatever you like, princess,” he said, returning to the more immediate issue. Of course he wanted the Kindred for himself. Did she expect he’d want to share it with the girl who, since nearly the moment they met, has been waiting for any opportunity to reclaim her throne? The Kindred would give her the power to claim not just Auranos, but any other throne she wanted.
He needed that power in his hands—no one else’s—and then finally he would have absolute control over his life and his future with no one to fear and no one to answer to.
Not even whatever it was that had happened between them earlier could change that. They were two people on opposite sides who both wanted the same thing, but only one could succeed. He wouldn’t give up everything he’d ever wanted—not for anyone.
A flush of color had returned to the princess’s cheeks, and her eyes flashed with frustration. “I’m not going anywhere. You and I will go to the palace together. And we will search for Lucia together. And when your father comes for us, we will face his wrath together.”
He glared down at the angry princess. She stared back up at him, without intimidation. Her shoulders back, her chin up, she was a burning torch in the middle of the cold, endless night.
How he wished he was strong enough to hate her.
“Very well,” he said through clenched teeth. “But remember, this decision was yours alone.”
• • •
The carriage reached the Limerian palace grounds and passed through the guarded checkpoint shortly after the sun had risen. Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Silver Sea, the black castle was in stark contrast to its pristinely white surroundings. Its obsidian towers rose up into the morning sky like the claws of a dark and powerful god.
Many found this to be an intimidating sight, but to Magnus, it was home. An odd flutter of nostalgia rushed through him; memories of simpler times, of riding and swordsmanship classes with the sons of local nobles. Of roaming the grounds with Lucia at his side, a book always in her hands. Of the queen, venturing outside wrapped in furs to welcome important guests arriving for a banquet. Of his father returning with the fruits of a successful hunt, greeting his young son with a rare smile.
Everywhere he looked, there were ghosts of the past.
He exited the carriage and walked up the dozens of steps leading to the tall and heavy main doors, their ebony surface emblazoned with the Limerian cobra signet and the credo “Strength, Faith, Wisdom.” He could hear Cleo and Nic whisper conspiratorially to each other as they trailed behind him.
He’d given them ample chance to leave and face no consequences, and instead they had chosen to come here with him. They had only themselves to blame for whatever happened next.
Two guards stood before the entry doors, dressed in the stiff, red Limerian guard’s uniforms with heavy black cloaks to help block out the cold. Magnus knew he needed no introduction. The guards bowed in unison.
“Your highness!” exclaimed one, before casting a look of surprise at Cleo and Nic. “Highnesses,” he clarified. “Are you well?”
With an awkwardly held broken arm, a bruised and bloodied face, and an overall disheveled appearance, Magnus wasn’t surprised the guard had taken notice of this. “Well enough,” he said. “Open the doors.”
He didn’t need to explain to a lowly guard why he had unexpectedly arrived in such a state. This was his home, and he had every right to be there whenever he wished, especially after barely escaping death at the hands of Amara’s henchmen.
Still, he couldn’t ignore the looming possibility that a message demanding his arrest had been sent to the castle by raven. But when the guards opened the doors without any argument, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
He took a moment to compose himself as he entered the grand foyer, sweeping his gaze around and settling on the spiral stairway chiseled into the stone walls, as if checking for flaws. “Who is in command here with Lord Gareth still in Auranos? I assume he hasn’t yet returned from his daughter’s wedding celebration.”
“Lord Gareth isn’t expected to return for several weeks. In his absence, Lord Kurtis was appointed grand kingsliege.”
Magnus found he did not have an immediate reply, and that perhaps he’d misheard the guard. “Lord Kurtis Cirillo has been appointed grand kingsliege?” he said after a moment.
“Yes, your highness.”
Kurtis Cirillo, Lord Gareth’s eldest son, was currently in charge of Limeros. This came as a great surprise, as Magnus had heard a rumor several months ago that Kurtis had drowned while traveling abroad.
He was disappointed to learn that that rumor had now been proven false.