Falling Kingdoms

“Excellent. You’ll get to experience a great deal more of it very soon, I promise.”

• • •

The next day when his father summoned him, Magnus didn’t delay in going to his side, leaving in the middle of his swordsmanship lesson. Andreas and the other boys watched him leave, attempting to guard their distaste.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Magnus said, throwing down the sword he’d used to break two of the boy’s arms in the last week. They should be lucky they didn’t practice with sharpened steel or he would have taken the entire limb. “I have royal business to attend to.”

Everything seemed so much simpler with his new outlook. He was the son of the King of Blood. And he would live up to that title in any way he could.

His father waited at the entrance to the eastern tower, where prisoners of special interest to the king were kept.

“Come with me,” the king said before leading Magnus up the narrow spiral staircase. The black stone walls higher up were coated with frost. There were no fireplaces in the towers to bring any warmth to them.

Magnus wasn’t sure what to expect when they reached the top. Perhaps a prisoner about to lose their head or their hands. He might be the one allowed to pass final judgment on a murderer or pickpocket. But when he saw who the prisoner was, his steps faltered.

Amia was chained in the small stone room, her arms raised above her head. Two guards stood by obediently. The girl’s face was bloody. Her gaze moved to him and widened before she bit her bottom lip and stared down at the floor.

“This,” the king said, “is one of our kitchen maids. She was caught eavesdropping outside my meeting room. You know how I feel about spies.”

“I’m not a spy,” she whispered.

The king strode across the room. He grasped hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. “Anyone who listens to conversations while hidden is a spy. The only question is, for whom do you spy, Amia?”

Bile rose in Magnus’s throat. The girl spied for him. She’d been an asset ever since he’d first taken notice of her. She’d told him many interesting pieces of information.

When she didn’t reply, the king backhanded her. Blood bubbled from her mouth as she sobbed.

Magnus’s heart thundered in his chest. “Seems as if she doesn’t want to say.”

“Perhaps she’s protecting someone. Or perhaps she’s simply stupid. The question is, and why I brought you up here, what do you think I should do with such a problem? Spies are usually tortured for information. While she hasn’t been helpful yet, a few hours on the rack might loosen young Amia’s tongue.”

“I—I only listen because I’m curious is all.” Her voice broke. “I mean no harm.”

“But I do,” the king said. “I mean a great deal of harm to stupid girls who become too curious. Now, let’s see. One listens to private conversations with their ears. So perhaps I should slice yours from your head and have you wear them as a necklace as an example for everyone else.” He held his hand out to a guard, who placed a dagger in it. She whimpered as he traced the edge of the blade along the side of her face. “But you see with your eyes. I can take those as well. Pluck them out of your head right now. I’m quite good at it. You’d barely feel a thing. I’ve found that those with bloody holes in their face tend to learn from their mistakes.”

“Tell him,” Magnus demanded, forcing the words out. “Tell him who you spy for.”

Tell him it’s me.

Amia’s breath hitched and she cast a look at him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No one. I spy for no one. I’m just a stupid girl who eavesdrops for her own entertainment.”

Magnus’s chest tightened.

He didn’t underestimate his father. The king took great pleasure in playing with prisoners, male or female. He had a taste for blood that could never be sated. It had been born in him. Magnus’s grandfather, who’d died when Magnus was only a small child, had been disappointed that his son and heir had such a wide sadistic streak. The former king of Limeros had been known to be kind and gentle. Though even the kindest and most gentle king had a torture chamber in their castle’s dungeon.

“I grow bored.” Magnus forced the words out. “I’m not sure why you made me stop sword practice for this meaningless matter. The girl is a fool, obviously, with a simple mind. But harmless. If this is her first offense, this should be enough to scare her. Should she be caught again, I’ll cut out her eyes myself.”

The king glanced at him, a smile curling the side of his mouth. “You’d do that? And could I watch?”

“I would insist that you do.”

The king took the girl’s face between his fingers, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “You’re very lucky that I agree with my son. See that you behave. If you step out of line once, just once, whether it’s eavesdropping or merely breaking a plate, I promise that you’ll be back here. And your eyes will be the very least that you’ll lose. Do you understand?”

She inhaled shakily. “Yes, your majesty.”

He patted her cheek. “Good girl.” Then he glanced at the guards. “Before you send her back to work, give her twenty lashes to ensure she doesn’t forget.”

Magnus left the tower with his father and forced himself not to cast a single glance back at the girl. Her sobs echoed off the stone walls all the way down to the ground floor.