They would make this work.
Mytica—Limeros, Paelsia, and Auranos—mattered to both of them. Their people mattered to them. And the future stretched before them, both frightening and enticing in far too many ways to count.
Magnus took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the thin gold band she now wore, a near match for his own. When she’d questioned him about the rings, he’d insisted that it wasn’t the bloodstone melted down and made into two rings.
She didn’t believe him, since she hadn’t seen his thick gold ring since that fateful night.
If she was right, Magnus had created the most powerful pair of wedding bands in history.
“Apologies for interrupting,” a voice cut between them, making Cleo gasp against Magnus’s lips.
“Valia,” Magnus said with surprise. “You’re here.”
“I am.” The witch wore her long black hair loose. It cascaded down the back of her burgundy gown.
Several guards who stood along the walls nearby didn’t make a single move toward her.
“You didn’t answer Prince Ashur’s summons when we needed you,” he said darkly.
She smiled. “Perhaps I did. Perhaps I’m answering that summons now. But what difference does it make? You survived, both of you. And you’re ready to begin the rest of your lives together.”
True enough, Cleo thought. But a little extra help would have been lovely.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I’ve come to give you a gift. A symbol of luck and prosperity for the future of Mytica under the new rule of its young king and queen.” Valia held out a small plant, its roots encased in a burlap pouch.
“What is it?” Magnus asked, eyeing it.
“A grapevine seedling,” she said. “One that will yield perfect grapes year after year, just like those produced by the greatest vineyards of Paelsia.”
“Much gratitude,” Cleo said, taking the plant from the woman. “Alas, it will not last long if we don’t get it into Paelsian soil soon.”
“This one will do well wherever you plant it, even here in Limeros,” Valia said with confidence. “I promise you that.”
“Earth magic,” Cleo guessed.
Valia nodded. “Yes. It certainly helps. And ever since the Kindred were defeated, I feel that my magic has increased. I am grateful for that.”
It wasn’t the first time Cleo had heard this claim. Lucia said her magic had also strengthened, that the drain that Lyssa had on it was no longer an issue for her.
“Will you be present for our speech?” Magnus asked.
Valia nodded again. “I plan to join those in the palace square now.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Much gratitude for your gift, Valia.”
Cleo froze as the witch pressed her hand against Cleo’s belly.
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step back.
“Your son will be very strong and very handsome,” Valia said. “And in time he will discover a great treasure, one that will benefit the world.”
“Our son . . . ?” Cleo began, sharing a shocked look with Magnus.
Valia bowed her head. “All the best to you, Queen Cleiona. King Magnus.”
As the witch walked away, Cleo was certain she saw the brief flash of a gold dagger—one that looked very much like the dagger Lucia had used to destroy the Kindred orbs—in the sheath on her leather belt.
How strange, she thought.
But the thought quickly left her mind. She was focused on something else entirely that Valia had said.
Their son.
Her gown had been so much tighter this morning. And she hadn’t been able to keep any breakfast down, but she’d decided that was due to her nerves about starting her and Magnus’s coronation tour.
“A son?” Magnus asked, breathless. “Did she just say something about our son?”
Cleo tried to find her voice. “Yes, she did.”
He searched her face, his eyes wide. “Is there something that you haven’t told me yet?”
She laughed nervously. “Perhaps we can discuss this in further depth after our speech?”
A slow smile appeared on Magnus’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Immediately after.”
Cleo nodded, trying very hard to keep her happy tears at bay.
Her hand in his, they approached the doors leading to the balcony.
“Seeing Valia again,” Cleo mused, “her face seems so recognizable to me, like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
“Seen it where?” Magnus asked.
Then it came to her. “That book—the one about your goddess I’d recently started to read. It had some of the most incredible illustrations I’ve ever seen. So detailed.”
“So who does the witch remind you of?” he asked.
“Valoria herself,” Cleo said, unable to contain her grin. “Do you think it’s possible that we were just given both a gift and a prophecy by your goddess of earth and water?”
“Can you imagine if that were really true? That Valia was actually Valoria herself?” He laughed at this. How Cleo loved the rare sound of Magnus Damora’s laugh.
“You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s ridiculous, but they are both very beautiful.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as you are, my lovely queen.” Magnus leaned down and brushed his lips softly against hers. “Now . . . are you ready?”
Cleo looked up into his face—the face of someone she’d come to love more than anyone or anything else in this world, in this life.
Her friend. Her husband. Her king.
“I’m ready,” she said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Falling Kingdoms series has been an incredible, challenging, wonderful experience, and I have been so, so happy to share these books with the world. But I certainly did not travel this road alone over the last six years.
Thank you to my editor, the endlessly patient and truly delightful Jessica Harriton. Thank you to the fabulous Liz Tingue and Laura Arnold, who began this winding and exciting journey through Mytica with me. Thank you to my publisher Ben Schrank for giving me the best experience of my writing career. Thank you to my awesome publicist, Casey McIntyre, and to everyone at Razorbill Books and Penguin Teen who helped make Falling Kingdoms happen. Thank you to Vikki VanSickle and everyone at Razorbill Canada. You are all The Best!!
A million thank-yous to my agent of thirteen years, Jim McCarthy. I don’t know how I would have navigated the writing world without his savvy, guidance, and wicked sense of humor.
Thank you to my friends and family, whom I adore and value and cherish. I love you all more than you even realize.
And thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to the readers of Falling Kingdoms. You are all made of magic, every single one of you!
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Morgan Rhodes, Immortal Reign
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