Gathering Darkness

She needed to push Magnus off the solid ground he currently stood upon. And she believed she knew what to say to make him lose that careful balance.

“I didn’t know you believed in magic,” she said.

Magnus blinked. “What makes you think that?”

“Talk of legends doesn’t normally transpire between those who think they’re too civilized to follow such trivial subjects.”

Magnus sighed and leaned against the wall, perhaps to try to appear bored and unaffected. “You have a talent for talking in riddles. I prefer plainer words.”

“You’ll have to see Princess Amara for that. She prides herself on her bluntness.”

“Our Kraeshian visitors are irrelevant to this discussion.” He cocked his head and intensified his gaze, as if it would help him to unravel her mysteries. “What do you know of the Kindred, princess?”

The word never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Nothing at all.”

“My, you answered quickly. Far too quickly. Which makes me think you actually know a great deal, especially considering the books I’ve seen you reading lately. Books about magic and witches and Watchers.”

“And sorceresses,” she added, watching him carefully for a reaction and seeing only the slightest flicker in his dark eyes.

“Allow me to give you a small piece of advice, princess,” Magnus began. “Whatever interests my father, move far away from it. He obsesses over legends and searches for treasures that may or may not exist. And he doesn’t like to share.”

The confirmation sent a shiver down her spine. “I’d never expect him to.”

“Good.”

And with that his expression went blank. She knew wouldn’t be getting any more information out of him today. But this was enough for now.

“May I leave now?” she asked quietly.

“Not yet.” He studied her for an uncomfortable stretch before speaking again. “I have one more question.”

“Yes?” said Cleo, fearing what would come next.

“Why do you pursue a friendship with my sister?”

“Because I like her,” she blurted, blindsided by the question.

“You’re lying.”

Anger rose inside of her. “I’m not lying.”

“I don’t believe it’s possible for you to like Lucia. She’s a Damora, and therefore your enemy.”

“She’s different.”

His gaze raked over her, as if searching her for weapons and expecting to find another Kraeshian bridal dagger hidden behind her back. “You hate me, you hate my father, you hate anything to do with Limeros. Lucia is part of all of that. Do I believe you’re like any other girl who wants to have friends and go to banquets and giggle with her friends? Perhaps you were once, not so long ago, but not anymore. Everything you do, everything you say, is aimed toward your goal to destroy us.”

He was far more perceptive than she’d like him to be. He was causing her to lose her composure, her sense of control. Conflicting emotions welled up in her chest too quickly to hold down. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Wrong. I know everything about you. Your hate fuels you, it gives you purpose. I see it in your eyes at this very moment.” He fell quiet for a spell. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand why you hate me so much.”

The last thing she wanted to talk about was this, again, with him, but still her words poured forth; the bottomless pain in her heart had to go somewhere because it was killing her to try to keep it inside.

“You killed Theon.”

His expression tightened. “I can never change that fact.”

“You also stood by while the king, your father, murdered Mira. She was innocent. Harmless. You could have stopped him.” This time she made him flinch.

He was ashamed. She saw it in his eyes.

“Anyone else you wish to name, princess? Get it out. It’s healthy to unleash pain on the one who caused it. I can take it.”

“You killed Aron. More proof that you destroy everyone in your path, whether they deserve it or not.” Her words were quiet, but filled with hatred.

“What did you just say?” His voice was equally soft, but there was now danger in his tone.

She suddenly realized her mistake.

There was no one other than Jonas who could have told her about Aron’s death, and Magnus could not know she’d seen or spoken to him. She had to pull herself together. Overhearing a conversation was one thing, but meeting secretly with a rebel was another altogether.

“Well . . . you may as well have killed him. Aron was inexperienced. You knew how inexperienced he was. The king thrust him into a position of grandeur. He was vain and stupid and didn’t realize he didn’t stand a chance on the battlefield. I’m not saying you personally killed him . . .”

Magnus stepped closer to her, pressing her back against the wall, his gaze alone sharp enough to pin her there.

He drew so near that she could smell the sweet wine on his breath.

To her knowledge, Magnus had never drunk before. He hadn’t had a sip during their entire wedding tour. But ever since he’d returned from the battle in the mountains, his habits seemed to have changed.

“No, princess,” he said. “That’s exactly what you’re saying.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“You think I killed Aron? That’s quite an accusation. Why would I waste my time killing a pompous little peacock like your former betrothed? He was nothing more to me than dirt under my fingernails.”