Falling Kingdoms Read online

  “I thought I would die from the pain when I first learned of his death. It was as if I’d lost my husband, not only my lover.” Emilia drew in a shaky breath. “While Simon and I could never dream of being married in reality, two weeks before he died, he rode with me out to the Lesturne Valley, a few hours past town. We spent the day together, pledging our love and devotion with the beauty of nature as our witness. I committed myself to him forever and he to me. It was perfect, Cleo. For just a few hours, everything was so perfect. We watched the sunset together and counted the stars as they appeared. He said we’d become stars when we died, watching over the ones we love. Now I watch the sky every night hoping to find him there—hoping to see him again. I miss him so much I know it’s the cause of this illness. My grief has burrowed into me like a dark thing that eats away at my life.”

  “You mustn’t allow it to.” Cleo’s throat was so tight, but her words held anger. “You can’t. You’re to be the queen one day. If you die, that means it’ll be me. Trust me, Emilia, that would be a very bad thing. I would make a terrible queen. As horrible as all of this has been for you and as much as my heart breaks for this secret you’ve kept locked tight inside you, I refuse to accept that you’re dying from grief. You’re sick, that’s all. And sick people get well again.”

  “The healers I’ve seen don’t understand what’s wrong with me. They have no answers or medicine other than the ones that make me want to sleep all day.” Emilia snorted softly. “Although, one suggested I seek help in Paelsia. That it was my only hope for survival.”

  “From whom in Paelsia?” Cleo asked immediately.

  Emilia waved a hand. “It’s a legend, that’s all.”

  “What legend?”

  Emilia’s smile widened. “Suddenly, my sister who only believes in things she can see is interested in stories and legends.”

  “If you don’t tell me, I swear I’ll scream.”

  “Goodness, wouldn’t want that.” Emilia’s pale face looked tired and she leaned her head back on her pillow. “The healer told me of a woman in Paelsia who acts as guardian to the original grape seeds that were infused with earth magic. They’re the ones that helped the vineyards to begin to produce such incredible wine. She tends to these vineyards with her own earth magic that she shields from the rest of the world.”

  “Magic,” Cleo said skeptically.

  “I know you don’t believe, which is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “So this woman has magic seeds and is responsible for the vineyards growing so wonderfully in Paelsia. Why doesn’t she use this magic to help Paelsia out of its poverty?”

  “Perhaps her magic cannot reach that far. But legend has it that the seeds she possesses have the ability to heal even the more dire illnesses.”

  “And who is this woman that she’d have such magic at her disposal?”

  Emilia looked reluctant to say anything else.

  “Well?” Cleo persisted.

  “An exiled Watcher. One who left the Sanctuary many years ago.”

  “A Watcher,” Cleo said with disbelief.

  “That’s right. So you’re right. Fantasy, that’s all. Watchers don’t really exist. There’s no one out there spying on us through the eyes of birds, hoping for clues of where to find the Kindred.”

  “I’ve never believed in such nonsense.”

  “Which is why I hesitated in telling you any of this.” She wiped a fresh trickle of blood from beneath her nose. Cleo’s heart, which had all but recovered itself, began to hurt again.

  “Emilia...” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Emilia’s expression held deep distress. “I—I never should have told you any of this. My story got away from me. I only meant to say that if you really don’t want to marry Aron, tell Father. Make him understand that you’ll die if you do. And if you fall in love with someone else, you need to spend as much time with him as possible because you never know when he might be taken from you. Follow your heart wherever it leads. Appreciate life, Cleo. It’s a gift that can be stolen at any time. No matter what happens to me now with this illness, I don’t regret a moment I spent with Simon.”

  Cleo gritted her teeth. “You won’t die. I simply won’t allow it.”

  Emilia exhaled shakily. “My head hurts very badly. I need to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open any longer because of the ridiculous elixirs the healers had me drink. Good night, dear sister. Tomorrow will be better.”

  Cleo held on to Emilia’s hand until she was certain that she had drifted off to sleep. After kissing her sister’s forehead, she left the room and entered the hallway on unsteady legs. Theon stood next to the door, grimness etched into his handsome features.

  With the door open, Theon easily would have heard every word spoken between her and Emilia even if he hadn’t been trying to listen.

  “Thought you might try to escape via your sister’s balcony again,” he said quietly.

  “Not tonight.” She looked up into his strained face. “Did you know?”

  He shook his head. “I knew my father cared about someone, but he wouldn’t say who it was. I figured he was involved with a married woman. Now I know.”

  She hugged her arms around herself as she walked. The wall-set lanterns cast a flickering glow of light and shadow along the hall. “Do you believe any of what she said about exiled Watchers and magic seeds that can heal illnesses?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cleo stopped walking and turned to face him. “You don’t? You mean, you think it could be possible?”

  “My father believed in magic, in long-lost legends of the Watchers of the Kindred. He told me that those who exile themselves to the mortal world will have children that can also be touched by magic. Witches.”

  “I’ve never believed real witches exist. Or Watchers.”

  His expression darkened. “I never did either, and I’m not sure you should start now.”

  “I wonder if those in the Paelsian villages themselves would know how to find this woman,” she said under her breath after a moment. “If I could get a name, a location, I could find her and I could speak with her.”

  Theon was silent for a moment. “You aren’t really considering chasing after this, are you? It was only a story your sister told you.”

  “If there’s someone who can help Emilia, then I need to find her.”

  Theon looked concerned by the sudden determination on her face. “After what happened with Lord Aron, it’s not a good idea for anyone from Auranos to step foot inside Paelsia’s borders until this all blows over.”

  She looked at him with alarm. “Do you think it will?”

  He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons your father chose to act now in announcing your engagement. It’s a distraction.”

  Her shoulders sank. “My future misery is being used as a distraction. How wonderful.”

  “Like your sister said, you don’t have to marry him. Not unless you want to.”

  “You make it sound like I have a choice.”

  “Princess Emilia was able to stop her engagement because she loved someone else.”

  “So you think I should fall in love with someone else?”

  He didn’t respond to this right away. She realized that he was watching her carefully.

  “Maybe you should,” he finally said.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “And be as fearless as my sister if I fall for someone not suitable for a princess?”

  “That is entirely your decision.”

  Her gaze moved to his lips, as if she couldn’t help herself.

  “I want to help Emilia,” she whispered. “I can’t lose my sister. She believes she’s dying—I saw it in her eyes. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I know.”

  �
��I need to go to Paelsia and try to find more information about this exiled Watcher.”

  Theon’s expression hardened. Anything previously confusing in his eyes faded away. “Forget this, princess. Besides, you don’t believe in magic.”

  “I haven’t believed in magic because I don’t believe in anything that I haven’t seen with my own eyes. Therefore, I must go to Paelsia as soon as I can and learn the truth for myself.”

  He studied her patiently, and a very small sliver of respect moved through his gaze. “You’re determined to save your sister.”

  “She’s dying. I—I feel it, Theon. I’m going to lose her if I don’t do something immediately.” She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Would you go with me?”

  Theon was silent for a moment. “If you get your father’s permission for this trip, then of course I’ll go with you.”

  This could be the answer she needed—that Emilia needed to restore her health. And if there was a little unrest in Paelsia, Cleo would make sure to avoid it. With Theon at her side, nothing could stop her. A swell of motivation and optimism filled her.

  “Then I’ll get my father’s permission.”

  “She’s just a girl. Nothing more. But you believe?”

  Ioannes could communicate with the others mentally while in the mortal world, even in hawk’s form. He turned his sharp eyes from the dark-haired princess who had emerged from the tall and ominous stone castle to his right to see his friend Phaedra, perched on the branch next to him.

  “I believe.”

  “And what does it mean if she is?” Phaedra asked.

  “Everything.”

  It meant that the Sanctuary could be saved, that they would finally have a chance to reclaim the Kindred for themselves before it fell into someone else’s hands.

  The Sanctuary would continue on well after the mortal world faded completely, but it wouldn’t last forever. What had become their prison would soon become their grave.

  Without elementia, everything eventually faded away. Especially that which was created from magic itself.

  “And what if she isn’t?” his friend persisted.

  “Then all is lost.”

  Sixteen years ago, Ioannes had seen the signs. Even the stars themselves aligned in celebration of this beautiful girl’s birth. He’d watched as she was stolen from her cradle, the witches—descendants of one exiled from the Sanctuary itself—snatching her from her birth mother’s protection.

  It was true that the mother had no idea what she’d given to the world, but the common witches were not right to take the child and hide her away, spilling so much blood in the process. One witch—the one with goodness in her heart—had perished at the hands of her darker sister.

  That sister still lived, watching over this girl as Ioannes watched over them both.

  Patience was one gift a Watcher prized above all. But even Ioannes felt a flutter of nervousness in his chest. He believed, he’d watched, and he waited for a sign that he was right. That she was the one. He hated to say that his belief had begun to wane and that his patience was drying up.

  Within him was now an unfamiliar stirring of anger that this wisp of a girl could become a disappointment to him, nothing more than a regular mortal—at best, another common witch. Being in this world too long was a danger to a Watcher. This growing anger was a sign that he needed to return to the Sanctuary soon to cleanse himself of such burgeoning and unhelpful emotion.

  Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he’d wasted all his time studying this girl whenever she came outside. Whenever she stood on her balcony, gazing down into the frozen garden beneath her chambers. Watching her lips as she read to herself out loud, as she prayed to a false goddess who did not deserve such deep devotion.

  Ioannes wanted to turn away, to spend his precious hours in the mortal world in other pursuits, but he couldn’t leave her.

  Perhaps soon. But not yet.

  He pushed off from the branch and flapped his wings, soaring high into the sky. From the ground, the beautiful dark-haired princess glanced up at him. For the briefest of moments, their eyes met.

  All she would see when she looked at him was a golden hawk.

  For some reason, this realization pained him.

  Lucia stood outside, her breath forming frozen clouds in the cold air with each exhale, watching the hawk fly high up into the bright blue sky. She could have sworn that it looked directly at her.

  Lucia stood outside, her breath forming frozen clouds in the cold air with each exhale, watching the hawk fly high up into the bright blue sky. She could have sworn that it looked directly at her.

  She brushed aside the thought and scanned the grounds, searching for any sign of her brother’s return. After weeks of keeping her horrible secret hidden deep inside, she was ready to unburden herself, come what may.

  Of course, the one time she desperately wanted to find Magnus was the one time he was nowhere to be found. She’d searched the halls of the castle for an hour only to learn from a kitchen maid that he was accompanying their father on a hunt but was expected to return soon.

  It was strange, though. Magnus had never shown much interest in hunting with their father before. Magnus had never showed much interest in hunting at all. She wondered uncomfortably if the recent death of Tobias, whom she knew though she wasn’t supposed to was her half brother, had anything to do with this change. He’d been buried quickly and quietly, with no explanation given for his sudden demise.

  To clear her head of her swirling thoughts, Lucia had gone outside and into the cold air and sunshine, determined to go for a brisk walk around the palace grounds and ready herself for her afternoon classes—art, geography, and, unfortunately, embroidery. She could rarely get through an entire class of needlework without stabbing herself. Magnus didn’t seem to think she was clumsy, but her sore fingertips would claim otherwise.

  To her far left, she caught a glimpse of a boy she knew—Michol Trichas. She raised her hand to wave at him, but he didn’t seem to notice and turned away.

  She picked up her pace to catch up to him, drawing her fur-lined cloak closer to block out the icy chill.

  “Michol!” She greeted him with a smile, the frozen ground crunching under the leather soles of her shoes. They’d taken an art class together here at the palace a few months ago. Her father had wanted to abolish the subject entirely, but Lucia had begged him to reconsider, promising that the study of art was not simply a frivolous pursuit of aesthetic beauty, but one of history and heritage.

  Michol was the son of local nobles who were also friends of the king. She liked him very much—had enjoyed talking to him about sculpture. They’d spent an hour discussing a sketch of a mysterious carved stone wheel located in the northern-most frozen reaches of Limeros, an area that never thawed. It was said to be originally from the Sanctuary itself—a legendary place of magic hidden in the Forbidden Mountains from which eternal mystical beings watched over the mortal world. Some more obscure texts that Lucia had read said that to encounter such a wheel was to discover a location marked by Watchers as a clue to find the lost Kindred—which could be a blessing or a curse, depending on the myths one believed.

  Michol had attended her birthday banquet, and he’d promised to come back so they might go for a walk together and do some exploring of the palace grounds. He’d never returned, and she didn’t understand why. Now he turned to face her with a sheepish expression. He raked a hand through his messy hair. “Princess Lucia, a pleasure to see you again.”

  She pushed away her nervousness and decided to be as straightforward as possible with the boy. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

  “No.”

  “Are you trying to hide from me?” She tried to smile, but the thought that she was right was disturbing. Still, she was curious to know the truth. “Did I say something to offend you
?”

  He made a strange snorting sound, which might have been a nervous laugh. “Hardly.”

  “I’ve been waiting for us to go on that walk.”

  Michol stared at her as if perplexed. “Then I—I don’t understand.”

  Lucia tucked her hands into the sleeves of her cloak to keep them warm. “That makes two of us.”

  “Your brother told me that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I was here before to call on you and he made sure I knew that my presence was unwelcome. That you said I wasn’t to be encouraged. That you, well...that you were interested in taking walks with other boys, but not with me.”

  Confusion gave way to clarity and a hot surge of anger. “Did he?”

  “He did.”

  She struggled to breathe normally and not let her emotions get the better of her. Lately, strange things tended to happen when they did . . . things that she had to keep secret in case anyone found out.

  She let out a long, steady breath and looked directly at Michol. “He shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “Really?” His expression turned hopeful.

  “And you never should have believed him without speaking with me. My brother does not control who I see and when I see them. I do.”

  He blanched. “I didn’t know.”

  “This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

  Magnus had developed a bit of a habit of deciding who was deserving of his younger sister’s attention. But she didn’t need his opinion or his help in weeding out the unworthy. She was quite capable of doing that herself.

  “Honestly,” she muttered. “How dare he interfere in my life like this?”

  “Does this mean we can have that walk after all?”

  Lucia turned her gaze on the boy, studying him closely for the first time. At first glance he was handsome enough, a few inches taller than she, his skin pale and perfect.