Crystal Storm

by Morgan Rhodes

  “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.”

  “You speak as if you know my heart, but you don’t. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.”

  “Learn to take good advice when it’s freely given. Life will be much easier for you if you do.” Selia didn’t seem the least bit fazed by Cleo’s sharp tone. “I sense greatness in you, my dear. I see it in your eyes. You are determined to change the world. I saw the same expression in your mother’s eyes the one time I met her.”

  Cleo felt her eyes go wide. “You met my mother?”

  Selia nodded. “Elena was a commendable woman, strong and brave and smart. An uncommon combination, I hate to admit, especially among royals. Our kind do tend to be spoiled and coddled in our youth, no matter where we come from. It can lead to lazy adults who aren’t willing to do what it takes to get what we want.”

  “I was spoiled and coddled,” Cleo admitted.

  “Such weakness has been burned out of you by challenge and loss.”

  “Yes. Burned out of me,” Cleo repeated, nodding. “That’s an accurate description of how it’s felt.”

  “The fire that hollows us out is what allows us to be filled with strength and power where before there was none,” Selia said. She poured two glasses of grape juice. Cleo took one from her. “Perhaps we should toast to that fire. Without it, we would be no threat to those who might wish to stifle our potential.”

  Cleo nodded. “I suppose I can drink to that.”

  She raised the cup to her lips. Just as she was about to take a sip, the glass flew out of her hand and shattered against the wall.

  She looked up with surprise at King Gaius, who now stood next to her. His gaze wasn’t on her, though, it was on his mother.

  Cleo scrambled up to her feet, her chair skidding backward on the wooden floor. The king looked as healthy and strong as he ever had.

  The bloodstone. He had it now, and it had worked its magic.

  She’d been too busy feeling sorry for herself alone in her room to hear about this.

  “Goodness, Gaius.” Selia also rose to her feet. “Is that any way for you to treat your son’s wife?”

  “I notice you didn’t take a drink yet, Mother. Go on, quench your thirst. Don’t let me stop you from tasting your own dark magic.”

  Instead of doing what he curtly suggested, Selia placed her cup down on the table. Cleo watched her, a sickening realization dawning inside her.

  The grape juice had been poisoned.

  Cleo pressed up against the wall, her heart pounding hard and fast.

  “You look very well, Gaius,” Selia said without a glance in Cleo’s direction.

  “Thanks to you, it seems I’ve recovered.”

  “As I promised you would.” Her expression was tight. “Now tell me what’s wrong and why you look at me with hatred inste
ad of love this morning.”

  He laughed hollowly. The look in his eyes was cold enough to make Cleo’s blood turn to ice in her veins.

  “What would have happened had the princess drunk that?” He nodded at the pitcher. “Would she have died quickly and painlessly or screaming with a hole burned through her throat as my father did from your deadliest of potions?”

  “I’m not sure,” Selia said calmly. “It works differently on everyone.”

  “You really tried to poison me?” Cleo managed, shock and outrage making her tremble.

  Selia’s steady gaze met hers. “You’ve proven yourself a problem in many ways. I see no reason why you should be allowed to disrupt this family more than you already have.”

  “That is not your decision to make,” Gaius growled. “It’s mine.”

  “From what I gather, you’ve tried numerous times to rid yourself of this thorn in your side. How difficult could it be to end the life of a troublesome child like this?”

  “How did you know?” Cleo choked out to Gaius. The thought that she’d been starting to trust Selia, that she had just believed in her words of strength and bravery, made her sick. She’d been so close to drinking poison, not thinking for a single moment that her life was in danger. If the king hadn’t knocked the cup from her hand . . .

  “I just knew,” the king said. He still hadn’t looked directly at Cleo; his gaze remained fixed on his mother. “Just as I know what you did seventeen years ago, Mother.”

  Finally, a slight frown creased Selia’s forehead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “We can play this game, if you like. I’d rather we didn’t. I’d rather not waste more time listening to your lies, the lies you’ve filled my head with all my life.”

  “I’ve never lied to you, Gaius. I love you.”

  “Love.” He threw the word back at her as if it were a flaming arrow he’d managed to block. “Is that what you call it? No, Mother. While I’ve been contemplating my own death, my mind free from any protective potions, I’ve done a great deal of thinking about how your idea of love has only been a ruse to gather power for yourself. I did everything you asked of me and received ashes in return. You were the one to tell me that love is an illusion. Or is it only certain kinds of love that you find unsuitable?”

  She stared at him, incredulous. “Romantic love is an illusion. The love of family is eternal! I waited thirteen years in exile for you to realize that everything I’ve done has been for you. For you, Gaius, not for me. And finally you appeared when you needed me the most. And what did I do without question? I saved your life!”

  “I know you did. And I also I know you went to see Elena just before her death,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You were troubled by thoughts that I’d return to her, despite her never replying to any of my letters. But you intercepted those letters, didn’t you? She never received a single one of them.”

  Cleo couldn’t move, could barely breathe. She knew what she witnessed was not meant for her ears. Still, she couldn’t turn away.

  Selia looked down her nose at Gaius as if he were a ten-year-old boy trying to argue logic with a scholar. “I have always tried to protect you from making poor decisions that would threaten your power. And yes, I knew you planned to go to her, as much of a fool at twenty-five as you were at seventeen.”

  He nodded slowly. “Was it grape juice you offered her too? I remember she liked cider the best. Spiced apple cider, served warm.”

  Selia didn’t reply to this.

  “You didn’t have to poison her. I didn’t plan to go to her, not then. My heart had already become far too black and cold to think she’d ever take me back, especially with her perfect life and perfect family. But it wasn’t any vengeful witch’s curse that killed her that day. It was you.”

  Cleo found she’d begun to tremble violently, everything she heard hitting her like physical blows. “You poisoned my mother,” she whispered. “You murdered her.”

  “The poison should have ended both her life and the life of the child she carried.” Selia shook her head. “But she was too far along in her pregnancy. Her death did seem natural to many, given how difficult her pregnancy with Emilia had been. I know Corvin believed it to be a curse, his fault for slaking his lust with a witch. And yes, it was apple cider. How strange . . . I hadn’t remembered that until now. However, I assure you that she didn’t suffer. She simply . . . slipped away. Peaceful.”

  “Lies,” Gaius said through clenched teeth. “I’ve heard accounts of how greatly she suffered until death finally claimed her.”

  “Rumors only.”

  The cold hatred in his dark eyes chilled the room. “I want you to leave. And I never want to see you again.”

  Selia shook her head. “You must be able to see that I did what I thought was best. For you, Gaius. Because I love you, and I always have. You are my perfect boy, born to greatness. Together we will rule the world, just as I always told you we would.”

  “Leave,” he said again, “or I will kill you.”

  “My darling, no. I can’t leave you. Not now. Not like—”

  “Leave!” he bellowed and slammed his fist down upon the breakfast table so hard that Cleo was certain it would shatter.

  Selia raised her chin. “You will forgive me when you see there’s no other way for this to end.”

  The king shook from head to toe as his mother left the room.

  Cleo was dumbfounded, utterly unable to think clearly after such an argument.

  “My mother was poisoned . . .” she began. “Because your mother thought you wanted to renew your relationship with her.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that would . . . destroy her control over you.”

  “Yes.” It was not much more than a hiss this time.

  “Selia told me that you beat my mother almost to death, that she hated you.”

  His eyes widened. “My mother is a liar. Elena was my world, my weakness, my suffering, my one and only love. I didn’t lay a hand on her in anger and I never would have.” Gaius cast a dark look at her. “I want you to leave here as well.”

  “What?”

  “My mother was right about one thing: You are a danger to my son, just as Elena was a danger to me. I won’t have it. I will protect him from harm whether he wants my protection or not.”

  “But I . . . I thought . . .”

  “What? That I’d begun to redeem myself in some small way by stopping you from drinking that poison? That wasn’t about you, princess. That was about me and my mother. Magnus would be better off if you were dead and no longer a problem for either of us.”

  The ache in her heart she’d shockingly begun to feel for this man and his horrific past quickly turned to stone. “I think Magnus should have a say in this decision.”

  “He is young and stupid when it comes to such things, just as I was. I don’t forgive my mother for what she did, but I do understand why she did it. I will do you the favor of not ending your life here today, but only if you leave this very moment. Go back to your precious Auranos. Better yet, leave Mytica entirely. Elena’s family hailed from western Vaneas. Perhaps you could build a new life there.”

  “I want to speak to Magnus,” Cleo insisted. “I need to—”

  “You need to leave before what little patience I have left disappears. And know, princess, I do this not for you but in the memory of your mother, who should have lived instead of her worthless child, who’s brought nothing but misery to my world. Now go, and don’t return.”

  Cleo finally turned away from him, blinking back tears.

  The first person she came across was Enzo, standing just outside the room.

  “You heard?” she asked.

  “Not all of it,” he admitted.

  She hesitated. “I know you’re Limerian, and despite any promises you’ve made, you’re
loyal to the king, not to me. But I must ask you anyway . . . will you come with me? I’m not fool enough to think I can go out there in this world, as it is right now, unprotected.”

  It didn’t take long before Enzo nodded firmly. “Yes, of course I will. We’ll find a ship that will take us to Auranos or wherever else you want to go.”

  She nodded, grateful to have his allegiance, if nothing else. “Thank you, Enzo. But I’m not taking a ship anywhere.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  It seemed she’d been left with very few options. It was time for her to be strong again. “I want to seek an audience with the empress.”

  CHAPTER 25

  MAGNUS

  PAELSIA

  He’d drained two bottles of wine the innkeeper kept on hand. Oddly enough, the wine hadn’t been a Paelsian vintage. It was bitter and dry and left a foul aftertaste in Magnus’s mouth, but it was just as effective as Paelsian wine in dulling his mind and helping him fall asleep.

  But not in keeping him asleep. The sound of his door creaking open woke him. He’d been certain he’d locked it. His body felt heavy and far too weary to move, and his mind was too foggy to care who entered his room.

  “It’s me,” Cleo whispered.

  Magnus’s eyes shot wide open at the sound of her voice, his back to the door.

  “What do you want?” he asked tentatively, without turning around to look at her.

  “I needed to see you.”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “You’re observant.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  “No.”

  The bed creaked as she slipped into it beside him.

  Magnus froze at the sensation of her hand sliding over his side to his chest. “Cleo . . .”