Falling Kingdoms

“This is Theon Ranus, a palace guard who has accompanied me here to Paelsia.”

“What are you doing in Paelsia, might I ask?”

“Enjoying the scenery,” she said pleasantly. “I like to explore.”

“I’m sure.” His horse stayed steady, and the prince’s gaze remained fixed on Cleo’s face. “But you’re lying. I was informed that you were being kept in a locked shack nearby—one with a broken door and three unconscious guards with bruises to their temples. It took me a little longer to find it than I thought. I’m not all that familiar with the Paelsian landscape. I, unlike you, am not enjoying the scenery.” He glanced around with distaste. “In fact, I’ll be happy to leave as soon as possible.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Theon said under his breath.

Magnus looked down at him sharply. Instead of saying anything, a smile snaked across his face. Then his gaze flicked back to Cleo and she felt pinned in place by those emotionless eyes. “So you managed to escape your captors. Clever girl.”

She fought not to look away from him, to show any weakness. “I can thank the goddess that I managed to get away. With Theon’s help.”

“Thank the goddess,” Magnus repeated. “Which goddess is that? The evil one you’re named for? The enemy to my people’s goddess?”

Her patience had been stretched so thin it was ready to snap. “As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, Prince Magnus, it’s time that we were on our way. Please convey my good wishes to your family when you return to Limeros.”

Magnus nodded at his guards, who both slipped off their mounts. Cleo’s racing heart picked up more speed.

“What do you mean by this?” Theon didn’t wait another moment before unsheathing his sword and stepping in front of Cleo.

“This likely would have been much easier had the princess stayed where she was until I arrived,” Magnus said. “I was asked to bring her back to Limeros.”

Cleo inhaled sharply. “You will do no such thing.”

“My father, King Gaius, requested it of me himself. And that’s exactly what I’ll do.” His dark-eyed gaze moved to Theon. “I strongly suggest that you don’t try to stop my men right now. There doesn’t need to be any blood spilled here today.”

Theon raised his sword. “And I strongly suggest that you turn around and leave the princess right where she is. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Back off, boy, and I will let you run back to your land while you’re still breathing.”

Theon actually laughed at that, and Magnus glared down at him.

“Honestly,” Theon said. “I’m a little underwhelmed right now. You’re the Limerian prince, the next in line to the throne. I’d always heard that you came from a line of great men.”

“I do.”

“If you say so. Maybe you’re the exception to the rule.”

“Amusing.” Magnus flicked his hand. “Guards, take the princess. And deal with her protector. Now.”

The guards moved closer to Theon.

“Theon...” Cleo’s throat was almost too tight to speak.

“Stay behind me.”

Panic forked through her. She thought they’d gotten away. She’d escaped from Jonas. All they had to do was meet Nic and travel the rest of the way to the harbor to find a ship to take them home. And all would be well again.

“What does your father want with me?” she demanded. “The same thing Jonas wanted? To use me against my father in your war?”

“Consider it an attempt to improve relations between lands. Take her,” Magnus snapped at his men. “Now.”

But to take Cleo, they first had to get through Theon. The two men—and they were men, not boys—unsheathed their weapons. Cleo was terrified for Theon. But she’d never seen him wield a sword before.

He was incredible.

Cleo staggered back from him as he clashed with the two, their swords clanging and sparking as they fought. The blond guard slashed Theon’s arm and blood welled, streaking down the sleeve of his blue uniform. That he continued to use that arm gave her some relief that it was only a flesh wound. Then he thrust his sword through the blond guard’s chest.

It was a killing blow. The Limerian guard fell to his knees with a grunt and then face forward onto the dirt.

Magnus swore loudly. Cleo looked up at him still on his horse. He seemed shocked by the guard’s death, as if he’d been fully expecting that Theon would easily surrender and give custody of Cleo over to him without argument or resistance.

There was nothing easy about this. But Cleo was confident that Theon was going to win. He was her hero. He’d saved her once. He would save her again.

Theon fought harder against the second guard, who moved toward Cleo. This one was older and more experienced, and he handled his sword so easily it was as if it was another limb. Cleo had witnessed guards practicing together with wooden swords and then again matched in tournaments every summer with real ones made from iron and steel. But she’d never seen a fight like this.

Just as she feared Theon would be defeated, the other guard lost his footing on the rocky ground. Theon didn’t hesitate—he ran him through with his sword.

The guard’s weapon clattered to the ground and he collapsed. A moment later, he choked on his own blood and fell limp. He was dead.

Cleo had also stopped breathing, but now she exhaled deeply and shakily as relief flooded through her. Theon had stopped them. He’d killed them to defend her, but she knew there had been no other choice. They would have taken her against her will and dragged her back to Limeros as a prisoner of war to use against her father.