Crystal Storm
Page 85
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But this wasn’t how he’d wanted it to be. Magnus hadn’t wanted to feel anything for this monster except hatred.
“I know you tried to save me,” Gaius told his mother. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You must find Lucia at any cost. You must beg her to help, if necessary. I know she won’t let Mytica fall completely into the hands of Amara. Lucia will destroy all our enemies, and the throne will belong to my son.”
“We will find Lucia together.” Selia slipped the gold ring onto the king’s bony finger, and he drew in a rattling breath. “The bloodstone is yours, my son, just as I promised. Now rest, and allow the stone to work its magic.”
Magnus turned away, conflicted by everything he’d witnessed tonight. The king caught his wrist, forcing him to turn back around.
“They weren’t only words,” his father said, already with renewed strength in his voice and determination in his clearing eyes. “I will be a better father to you, Magnus. Whether you believe me or not, I swear this to you.”
CHAPTER 24
CLEO
PAELSIA
Cleo’s entire world had been reduced to the four walls of her bedroom at the Paelsian inn. The rusty lock on the door was the only thing that protected her from her enemies.
The Damoras were her enemies—not her family, not her allies, not her friends.
And yet she continued to stay with them, feeling trapped, a helpless prisoner who had no say in her own fate.
She wasn’t sure when she finally fell asleep, but when she woke from the tight clutch of nightmares, her tears dried on her cheeks, she realized something very important.
She was no helpless prisoner. She was a queen.
She had forgotten to be brave, to be strong, as her sister and father had urged her to be. What would they think of her now, having lost her way and hoping for answers by trusting those who didn’t deserve her trust?
“Enough of this,” she whispered as she pushed herself out of the small bed.
She wasn’t sure how, but she would fix this herself. Her goals remained the same: Vengeance. Power. Reclaiming her throne and ensuring the future well-being of the Auranian people.
Nothing else mattered.
Magnus had been right about one thing: If Nic had been aware that she was in love with Magnus, he would have hated her. Lucky, then, that she hadn’t given the prince all of her heart. She’d been holding some of it back, protecting herself even with no idea that she’d been doing it.
“I’m so sorry, Nic,” she muttered as she quickly ran the silver brush through her long hair, trying very hard not to think of when Magnus had done so. “You were right. You were always right.”
Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon. She needed strength to do what had to be done—to go to Auranos and find allies of her father. She had to find the rebels who would support her as they devised a plan to overthrow Amara.
If there was a way, Cleo would find it. No matter what she had to do.
Quietly, just after dawn, she descended the stairs. The inn was silent, only the Damoras now in residence in a place that, just days earlier, had been filled with a strange mix of enemies and allies.
She moved toward the kitchen. The innkeeper’s wife was already up, baking bread. The scent of it made her mouth water.
“I need breakfast,” she told the woman.
“Yes, your grace,” the woman nodded. “Kindly take a seat, and I’ll bring it to you as soon as it’s ready.”
“Thank you.” Cleo moved into the dining room and was dismayed to find that she wasn’t the only one awake at this hour. Selia Damora sat at the end of the table, reading a book in the warm glow of sunrise. She looked up as Cleo approached.
“The princess has finally emerged from her chamber,” she said. “I’m glad to see you this morning.”
Cleo hesitated before she took a seat next to the woman. No reason to betray her plans to leave just yet. “It’s very early.”
“I’ve always liked to get up before the sun.”
Cleo had never shared that habit. There was a time when she’d slept in every morning until her sister poked her shoulder to tell Cleo that she’d already missed their first class, which made their tutor very cross. Cleo would reply by pulling her covers up over her head and grumbling for Emilia to leave her in peace.
Their tutors had always liked Emilia much more than her younger sister.
Cleo eyed the pitcher and glass goblets next to Selia. “What are you drinking?”
“Freshly pressed grape juice. It seems Paelsians do more with their famed fruit than simply make it into wine. Care for a glass?”
“Perhaps in a moment.”
“You’re upset this morning.” Selia nodded. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your argument with my grandson last night. I must admit, you are justified in your anger toward him. He had no right to manipulate your friend and put him in harm’s way.”
Cleo’s eyes began to sting. “I still can’t believe it’s true. That Nic is . . . gone.”
“I know you’re grieving. But let this pain make you stronger, dear.”
Cleo’s gaze shot to the woman. “I don’t seem strong enough to you already?”
“A woman can always strive to be stronger in the face of painful emotions. If you’ve come to any realizations about love and how it can weaken us, then I commend you. It takes many women until they’re much older than you are to learn those lessons.”
“I know you tried to save me,” Gaius told his mother. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You must find Lucia at any cost. You must beg her to help, if necessary. I know she won’t let Mytica fall completely into the hands of Amara. Lucia will destroy all our enemies, and the throne will belong to my son.”
“We will find Lucia together.” Selia slipped the gold ring onto the king’s bony finger, and he drew in a rattling breath. “The bloodstone is yours, my son, just as I promised. Now rest, and allow the stone to work its magic.”
Magnus turned away, conflicted by everything he’d witnessed tonight. The king caught his wrist, forcing him to turn back around.
“They weren’t only words,” his father said, already with renewed strength in his voice and determination in his clearing eyes. “I will be a better father to you, Magnus. Whether you believe me or not, I swear this to you.”
CHAPTER 24
CLEO
PAELSIA
Cleo’s entire world had been reduced to the four walls of her bedroom at the Paelsian inn. The rusty lock on the door was the only thing that protected her from her enemies.
The Damoras were her enemies—not her family, not her allies, not her friends.
And yet she continued to stay with them, feeling trapped, a helpless prisoner who had no say in her own fate.
She wasn’t sure when she finally fell asleep, but when she woke from the tight clutch of nightmares, her tears dried on her cheeks, she realized something very important.
She was no helpless prisoner. She was a queen.
She had forgotten to be brave, to be strong, as her sister and father had urged her to be. What would they think of her now, having lost her way and hoping for answers by trusting those who didn’t deserve her trust?
“Enough of this,” she whispered as she pushed herself out of the small bed.
She wasn’t sure how, but she would fix this herself. Her goals remained the same: Vengeance. Power. Reclaiming her throne and ensuring the future well-being of the Auranian people.
Nothing else mattered.
Magnus had been right about one thing: If Nic had been aware that she was in love with Magnus, he would have hated her. Lucky, then, that she hadn’t given the prince all of her heart. She’d been holding some of it back, protecting herself even with no idea that she’d been doing it.
“I’m so sorry, Nic,” she muttered as she quickly ran the silver brush through her long hair, trying very hard not to think of when Magnus had done so. “You were right. You were always right.”
Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon. She needed strength to do what had to be done—to go to Auranos and find allies of her father. She had to find the rebels who would support her as they devised a plan to overthrow Amara.
If there was a way, Cleo would find it. No matter what she had to do.
Quietly, just after dawn, she descended the stairs. The inn was silent, only the Damoras now in residence in a place that, just days earlier, had been filled with a strange mix of enemies and allies.
She moved toward the kitchen. The innkeeper’s wife was already up, baking bread. The scent of it made her mouth water.
“I need breakfast,” she told the woman.
“Yes, your grace,” the woman nodded. “Kindly take a seat, and I’ll bring it to you as soon as it’s ready.”
“Thank you.” Cleo moved into the dining room and was dismayed to find that she wasn’t the only one awake at this hour. Selia Damora sat at the end of the table, reading a book in the warm glow of sunrise. She looked up as Cleo approached.
“The princess has finally emerged from her chamber,” she said. “I’m glad to see you this morning.”
Cleo hesitated before she took a seat next to the woman. No reason to betray her plans to leave just yet. “It’s very early.”
“I’ve always liked to get up before the sun.”
Cleo had never shared that habit. There was a time when she’d slept in every morning until her sister poked her shoulder to tell Cleo that she’d already missed their first class, which made their tutor very cross. Cleo would reply by pulling her covers up over her head and grumbling for Emilia to leave her in peace.
Their tutors had always liked Emilia much more than her younger sister.
Cleo eyed the pitcher and glass goblets next to Selia. “What are you drinking?”
“Freshly pressed grape juice. It seems Paelsians do more with their famed fruit than simply make it into wine. Care for a glass?”
“Perhaps in a moment.”
“You’re upset this morning.” Selia nodded. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your argument with my grandson last night. I must admit, you are justified in your anger toward him. He had no right to manipulate your friend and put him in harm’s way.”
Cleo’s eyes began to sting. “I still can’t believe it’s true. That Nic is . . . gone.”
“I know you’re grieving. But let this pain make you stronger, dear.”
Cleo’s gaze shot to the woman. “I don’t seem strong enough to you already?”
“A woman can always strive to be stronger in the face of painful emotions. If you’ve come to any realizations about love and how it can weaken us, then I commend you. It takes many women until they’re much older than you are to learn those lessons.”
