Falling Kingdoms
Page 97
“My father must never surrender.”
“If he feels he has no choice, he’ll have to.”
Cleo remembered the coldness in Prince Magnus’s eyes as he murdered Theon. She couldn’t bear to ever see him ever again. “No, he won’t.”
“Oh, no?”
She forced a confident smile, pushing away the dark memories. “Don’t you see? We can’t even think that we’ll lose—because we won’t. We’ll be victorious and send those greedy pigs back where they came from. Then when all is calm again, we can focus on helping those in Paelsia who really deserve our help rather than those who would steal our land in its entirety.”
“Put that way, I almost believe you’re right.”
“I am right.” Cleo held out the seeds in the palm of her hand. “These are going to make all the difference. When Emilia is healed, the world will be a brighter place full of endless possibilities.”
He nodded. “Then lead on, princess.”
When they arrived at Emilia’s door, Cleo didn’t bother to knock; she simply let herself in. Nic lingered at the door, respectful to her sister, who was tucked into bed. Cleo rushed to Emilia’s side, not able to keep from smiling. Emilia faced the window, too weak to even turn her head to see her sister enter her room.
Cleo could barely control her excitement.
“Emilia! You won’t believe what I have here. The seeds! Don’t ask me how it’s possible, but it is. This will cure your illness, I know it will.” Emilia didn’t reply, but Cleo continued. “Watchers are real—I met one, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. She seemed no different than you or me. And she wanted to help you.”
Cleo glanced over her shoulder toward Nic, who’d taken a tentative step inside the room. He looked distressed, his brows drawn together.
“Cleo...” he began.
“I know it’s been hard,” Cleo continued, sitting gently on the bed. “First losing the one you love. We have that in common now, so I know how you feel. But we must go on and face what’s ahead together. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be strong. Just like you told me to be.”
Nic put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged off his hand. “No, she’ll wake up. She’ll be fine. Better than ever.” She stroked her sister’s long honey-colored hair, splayed against the silk pillow. “Emilia, wake up. Please.”
“She’s gone, Cleo,” Nic said softly.
“Don’t say that.” Cleo began to tremble. “Please don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Emilia stared sightlessly out of the window at the star-studded sky. Her skin was cool to the touch. She could have been gone for hours—ever since Cleo left her earlier.
When Cleo tried to get up from the bed, her legs crumpled beneath her. Nic caught her before she hit the floor. The seeds dropped from her hand. The well inside her broke—the one she’d been hoping would keep holding. She began to sob, beating her fists against Nic’s chest. It was too much sadness for her bear. She would die from this. She wanted to die.
The answer had been in her hand, the answer to save her sister’s life. But it was too late. She had failed.
Emilia was gone.
“I’m sorry,” Nic murmured, taking her blows without complaint. He tried to pull her against him to comfort her, but she kept fighting.
“The seeds!” she cried, and then fell to the ground, searching for the seeds she’d dropped. Finally she found them and grabbed hold of the side of the bed to pull herself back up.
Emilia’s face was ghostly white. Even her eyes seemed to have paled to a colorless gray. Cleo touched her sister’s face with trembling fingers, opening her bloodless lips and pushing both seeds inside. As they each touched Emilia’s tongue, they shimmered with white light and disappeared.
Like magic.
“Please.” The word was more of a soft cry. “Please work.”
She waited for what felt like forever, but nothing happened. Nothing.
It was too late.
Cleo finally turned to face Nic. His eyes brimmed with tears as he saw the grief on her face. A coldness, like shards of ice, sank slowly into her.
“My sister is dead.” She barely recognized her own voice. “She died alone looking at the stars.”
Emilia and Simon had counted stars the romantic night they’d spent together. He told her they’d become stars when they died and would watch over those they loved. It was why Emilia’s face had been turned to the window tonight. She’d been searching for him.
Nic stayed close but silent. She didn’t expect him to say anything. There was nothing he could say to make this better.
“I was too late,” she said. “I was too late. I could have saved her, but I was too late.”
She clutched her sister’s cold hand and sat on the side of the bed next to Emilia for so long that the sun began to rise. Nic stayed with her the whole time, sitting on the ground near the window, his legs crossed.
“We should close her eyes now,” he finally said.
Cleo couldn’t talk. All she could do was nod.
Nic came over and reached toward Emilia, closing her eyes so Cleo could almost fool herself again that her sister was only sleeping.
“We need to tell your father,” he said. “I’ll do it. Don’t worry. Don’t worry about anything. It’ll be all right.”
“If he feels he has no choice, he’ll have to.”
Cleo remembered the coldness in Prince Magnus’s eyes as he murdered Theon. She couldn’t bear to ever see him ever again. “No, he won’t.”
“Oh, no?”
She forced a confident smile, pushing away the dark memories. “Don’t you see? We can’t even think that we’ll lose—because we won’t. We’ll be victorious and send those greedy pigs back where they came from. Then when all is calm again, we can focus on helping those in Paelsia who really deserve our help rather than those who would steal our land in its entirety.”
“Put that way, I almost believe you’re right.”
“I am right.” Cleo held out the seeds in the palm of her hand. “These are going to make all the difference. When Emilia is healed, the world will be a brighter place full of endless possibilities.”
He nodded. “Then lead on, princess.”
When they arrived at Emilia’s door, Cleo didn’t bother to knock; she simply let herself in. Nic lingered at the door, respectful to her sister, who was tucked into bed. Cleo rushed to Emilia’s side, not able to keep from smiling. Emilia faced the window, too weak to even turn her head to see her sister enter her room.
Cleo could barely control her excitement.
“Emilia! You won’t believe what I have here. The seeds! Don’t ask me how it’s possible, but it is. This will cure your illness, I know it will.” Emilia didn’t reply, but Cleo continued. “Watchers are real—I met one, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. She seemed no different than you or me. And she wanted to help you.”
Cleo glanced over her shoulder toward Nic, who’d taken a tentative step inside the room. He looked distressed, his brows drawn together.
“Cleo...” he began.
“I know it’s been hard,” Cleo continued, sitting gently on the bed. “First losing the one you love. We have that in common now, so I know how you feel. But we must go on and face what’s ahead together. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be strong. Just like you told me to be.”
Nic put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged off his hand. “No, she’ll wake up. She’ll be fine. Better than ever.” She stroked her sister’s long honey-colored hair, splayed against the silk pillow. “Emilia, wake up. Please.”
“She’s gone, Cleo,” Nic said softly.
“Don’t say that.” Cleo began to tremble. “Please don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Emilia stared sightlessly out of the window at the star-studded sky. Her skin was cool to the touch. She could have been gone for hours—ever since Cleo left her earlier.
When Cleo tried to get up from the bed, her legs crumpled beneath her. Nic caught her before she hit the floor. The seeds dropped from her hand. The well inside her broke—the one she’d been hoping would keep holding. She began to sob, beating her fists against Nic’s chest. It was too much sadness for her bear. She would die from this. She wanted to die.
The answer had been in her hand, the answer to save her sister’s life. But it was too late. She had failed.
Emilia was gone.
“I’m sorry,” Nic murmured, taking her blows without complaint. He tried to pull her against him to comfort her, but she kept fighting.
“The seeds!” she cried, and then fell to the ground, searching for the seeds she’d dropped. Finally she found them and grabbed hold of the side of the bed to pull herself back up.
Emilia’s face was ghostly white. Even her eyes seemed to have paled to a colorless gray. Cleo touched her sister’s face with trembling fingers, opening her bloodless lips and pushing both seeds inside. As they each touched Emilia’s tongue, they shimmered with white light and disappeared.
Like magic.
“Please.” The word was more of a soft cry. “Please work.”
She waited for what felt like forever, but nothing happened. Nothing.
It was too late.
Cleo finally turned to face Nic. His eyes brimmed with tears as he saw the grief on her face. A coldness, like shards of ice, sank slowly into her.
“My sister is dead.” She barely recognized her own voice. “She died alone looking at the stars.”
Emilia and Simon had counted stars the romantic night they’d spent together. He told her they’d become stars when they died and would watch over those they loved. It was why Emilia’s face had been turned to the window tonight. She’d been searching for him.
Nic stayed close but silent. She didn’t expect him to say anything. There was nothing he could say to make this better.
“I was too late,” she said. “I was too late. I could have saved her, but I was too late.”
She clutched her sister’s cold hand and sat on the side of the bed next to Emilia for so long that the sun began to rise. Nic stayed with her the whole time, sitting on the ground near the window, his legs crossed.
“We should close her eyes now,” he finally said.
Cleo couldn’t talk. All she could do was nod.
Nic came over and reached toward Emilia, closing her eyes so Cleo could almost fool herself again that her sister was only sleeping.
“We need to tell your father,” he said. “I’ll do it. Don’t worry. Don’t worry about anything. It’ll be all right.”
