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Rebel Spring A Falling Kingdoms(12)



“I hear you,” he gritted out.

His father hadn’t struck him recently, but it had been a common practice in his youth. Much like the cobra, the official sigil of Limeros, King Gaius struck out violently and venomously when angered or challenged.

Magnus wrestled against the urge to leave the room since he knew it would make him look weak.

“I learned this new information from my latest royal advisor,” the king said finally. He moved to the opposite side of Lucia’s bed, his attention fixed again upon her peaceful face.

“Who is it?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Let me guess. Did this mysterious advisor also suggest building your road into the Forbidden Mountains?”

This earned Magnus a look that had regained some respect. He’d asked the right question. “She did.”

So his father’s new advisor was a woman. This didn’t come as a complete surprise to Magnus. The king’s last trusted advisor had been his longtime mistress, a beautiful if treacherous witch by the name of Sabina.

“You really believe the Kindred are real.”

“I believe.”

The Kindred were a legend—Magnus had never thought them anything more than that—four crystals, containing the very essence of elementia, that had been lost a thousand years ago. To possess them would give their bearer omnipotent power—the power of a god.

Magnus was tempted to think his father had gone insane, but there was no madness in his steady gaze right now. His sight was clear and focused, if obsessed. The king truly believed in the Kindred and he believed in the existence of Watchers. Until recently, Magnus had not shared this belief. But the proof of magic, of elementia, lay in this very bed. He’d seen it with his own eyes. And if a prophesied sorceress could be real, so too could the Kindred.

“I will leave you to watch over your sister. Inform me immediately if she awakens.” The king then departed from Lucia’s chambers, leaving Magnus alone with the sleeping princess and his own troubled thoughts.

Her magic is the key.

He was silent for a long time, his gaze focused on the balcony and the bright sunshine this afternoon. Potted olive trees waved gracefully in the warm breeze. He could hear the chirping of birds and could smell the sweet scent of flowers.

Magnus hated it here.

He much preferred the snow and the ice, which was what Limeros was best known for. He liked the cold. It was simple. It was perfect and pristine.

But this golden land was where his father believed he could begin his search for the very essence of elemental magic, not in Limeros. And if this beautiful girl who lay sleeping before him was the key to finding it, Magnus couldn’t ignore such knowledge.

With the Kindred in hand, he and Lucia would truly be equals in every way. He didn’t dare let himself hope further—that perhaps possessing the Kindred would cause Lucia to look at him differently. Instead, he reflected that if he managed to find this lost treasure, he would prove his full worth to the king and earn his father’s complete respect once and for all.

“Wake up, Lucia,” he urged. “We’ll find the Kindred together—you and me.”

His gaze flicked, startled, to Mira, who’d drawn close enough to fill a water goblet. She met his eyes and seemed jolted by the icy glare she received.

“Your highness?”

“Be very careful,” he warned in a low voice. “Ears that are too eager to listen to secrets run the risk of being sliced off.”

Her face flushed a deep crimson and she turned away from him to scurry back to the far side of the room. A servant had no say in the shaping of her own destiny. But the son of a king—well, that was another matter entirely.

The king wanted the Kindred so he could possess their eternal, omnipotent power. This could prove to be the ultimate test for his son and heir.

For if they truly existed, Magnus decided, gripping Lucia’s velvety blankets in his fist, he would be the one to find them.





CHAPTER 4


LUCIA




THE SANCTUARY




Lucia remembered the explosion—the screams, the cries. The bodies lying bloody and broken all around her. Dead eyes staring out from heads lying in scarlet puddles. Then darkness fell for so long she thought she was dead and hadn’t gone to the peaceful everafter, but to the darklands, the place evil people went when they died—a place of endless torment and despair.

There were times she felt that she had woken, only to be pushed back down into the bottomless depths of sleep again, her mind foggy and uncertain.

She’d desperately prayed to the Goddess Valoria to forgive her . . . to save her . . . but her prayers to the Limerian deity had gone unanswered.

But then, finally, there was a dawning. Rays of sunshine warmed her skin with the heat of a summer’s day. And slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. The colors were so vivid and bright that she had to shield her eyes until she became used to the unexpected intensity.