Gathering Darkness by Morgan Rhodes Page A

allegedly eavesdropping on his conversation with the loathsome Prince Magnus.
    He’d failed Mira. He should have been there to protect her, but he wasn’t. The thought tortured him day and night. He wanted vengeance, but instead he took orders. He was a coward trying to survive, lost in a sea of his enemies.
    With a heavy heart, Nic turned to guide the hounds back toward the castle and felt his left boot sink into a pile of dung.
    â€œFantastic.” His voice trembled as the last of his strength left him and he felt on the verge of tears.
    Why did he stay here? Why didn’t he slip out of the gates, get on a ship, and sail away across the sea to start a new life somewhere far away from here?
    He was a palace guard, not the palace jester. Perhaps he should start acting like it.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Nic couldn’t leave without saying farewell to Cleo. It would be the first time he’d spoken to her since he’d stormed off after she’d rejected both his romantic intentions and his offer to take her away from this horrible place full of ghosts. That had only been two weeks ago, but it felt as if a year had passed.
    She likely hadn’t realized it, but Nic had been keeping an eye on her from afar in recent days. Even though she despised him now, he’d still promised to keep her safe.
    And how is leaving her behind keeping her safe?
he asked himself.
    She didn’t need his help anymore. Maybe the idea that she ever had needed him had only been an illusion he’d cast forth himself to make him feel worthy.
    He found the princess in the courtyard, reading, on a shady bench beneath a large oak tree. The princess was
always
in the courtyard reading—a behavior so different from the Cleo he’d grown up with, the one who only touched a book when her tutors insisted. And sometimes, not even then.
    Today’s book featured a hawk on the cover, dark bronze against the pale tan leather, and appeared to be about the legends surrounding the immortal Watchers and their mystical Sanctuary. Piled next to her were more books, including a sketchbook he’d occasionally seen her draw in to help pass the time. Art was one class Cleo had seemed to enjoy.
    â€œCleo,” he said softly.
    She looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. “Nic!”
    â€œApologies for disturbing you, but I wanted to come here and—”
    She leapt to her feet and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Nic! I’ve missed you so much! Please, don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry I was so cruel to you. I didn’t mean it.”
    A thick knot swiftly formed in his throat and his eyes began to sting. Then a smile took hold of his face and the heaviness that had been seated upon his heart shifted to the side just a little.
    She took his face between her hands, staring at him with a worried expression. “You hate me,” she said.
    â€œWhat? Of course I don’t hate you, Cleo. I thought that you . . . well, I thought
you
hated
me
.”
    She gasped. “That’s ridiculous. I could never hate you, Nic. Never!”
    He felt as close to joyful as he had in recent memory. The message of farewell he’d come to deliver died on his tongue. “I need to ask your forgiveness for what I said to you.”
    She shook her head. “No forgiveness is necessary. Please, sit with me for a while.”
    â€œI don’t think I can.” He glanced toward the other guards standing against the far wall. Between them, in the center of the courtyard, was a beautiful garden of flowers and fruit trees, but the guard’s view of the princess was clear enough.
    â€œForget them. They won’t bother us. And they can’t hear us speaking from all the way over there.”
    She took his hand in hers. He sat next to her on the bench and looked down at her amethyst ring.
    â€œHave you learned more about your ring?” he whispered.
    â€œI have. But