Golden Chains

by M. Lynn

  Edmund returned, clapping Alex on the back as they passed each other. “Have you guys kissed and made up?”

  “Leave it alone, Edmund.” Etta’s eyes scanned the surroundings. She brushed a few errant tears away.

  “You came all this way and risked everything to save him. What is going on?”

  “He means nothing to me.” The magic-tainted words slid out easily. “As with everything La Dame has done, it was an illusion. Magic makes us believe in realities that don’t exist.”

  “I saw how much you loved him. I can’t accept that it’s all gone.”

  She hiccupped back a sob, her knees suddenly crumpling beneath her. They hit the soft earth, and she clutched her arms across her chest as if that would hold her together and keep the hate from overwhelming her.

  “I can’t…” she cried. “Edmund.”

  He knelt beside her and folded her into his arms.

  Alex was leaving. Even as Etta’s magic rejoiced, her heart clenched traitorously. For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to break the curse, never imagining it would free the Basile magic within her.

  Power should have meant freedom.

  But now she knew it was only a new set of chains.

  Alex sprinted across the open field to recover two of the horses that had been in the stables. They didn’t run from him, but the second one snapped at his hand as soon as he grabbed his mane.

  Verité.

  Blasted horse.

  He gave up and started leading the first one back to the others. Verité followed close behind.

  Persinette’s eyes lit up when she saw him, the first sign of real life he’d seen in her since her battle with La Dame.

  It struck him like a cudgel how beautiful she truly was. No. He rubbed his eyes. If he continued to stare, he’d never be able to leave. His people needed him. Etta didn’t. She’d made that very clear. Maybe they’d been doomed from the start.

  My fierce Etta. His own words came back to him and he tried to decipher the feeling behind them. Had she truly never loved him? He imagined them together. Her smooth skin under his fingers. The way she’d softened when she was alone with him. With everyone else, she’d been hard, cold.

  They’d recovered five horses and a myriad of supplies once the sun had risen

  Many of the people had been taken from his own kingdom against their will. Others had fled into Bela to escape the Gaulean people. He’d had a hand in pushing them toward La Dame and for that, he would always be filled with guilt.

  The people avoided him. Persinette wouldn’t speak to him. He shouldn’t want to speak to her either. It would be too hard. Would the Belaens crown her queen? It was her birthright, but he couldn’t picture her sitting atop a throne giving orders.

  No, she belonged on the front lines.

  A place he’d never been allowed to be. There might not even be a throne for him to return home to. Even if there was, the thought of living the rest of his life in that palace chilled him. He wasn’t the same man that was drugged and kidnapped. He’d been beaten, thrashed by magic, and ripped from a curse that had all but consumed him.

  Edmund chuckled as Verité tried to nip at Alex again. Alex scowled at his friend.

  Edmund hid his grin as he patted Verité’s neck and the horse leaned into his touch. They’d formed a reluctant friendship since Verité helped Edmund escape from the palace. Escape from the dungeons Alex had put him in.

  Alex reached up to rub the back of his neck as the horse he’d been leading was taken from him. “Look, Edmund—”

  “Stop, Alex.” Edmund put a hand on his arm. “I don’t want your apology. I want you to go take back your kingdom.”

  “I need you by my side.”

  “No, you don’t. Gaule isn’t my home. Not anymore. I have to stay with Etta. These are my people.”

  Alex pulled him into a hug. “I’m your people too. Don’t forget that.”

  “Never.”

  Alex grunted and pulled back to find Persinette studying him.

  “You must get on the road.” She jerked her head toward the horses being saddled. “Your escorts are ready. The faster you are out of my kingdom, the better.”

  She waved her hand and three packs appeared on the ground. “Supplies.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded.

  “Don’t thank me. As the king of Gaule, if you set foot in Bela again, I won’t hold my people back and every single one of them wants you dead.”

  He swallowed the knot in his throat as Edmund shook his head sadly. Tyson appeared next to him, staring daggers at Persinette.

  “What about me?” he asked. “I am a prince of Gaule. Would you have me killed?”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. “You are a Basile. Bela is your kingdom.”

  “So is Gaule.”

  His spine straightened, and he squared his shoulders, but Alex didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes. “I’m going with Alex. He is my king. His duty is to save Gaule from itself and my duty is to stand by his side.”

  She met his eyes and the look in them struck something in Alex’s heart. There was an emptiness inside of her. After everything they’d been through, she was the one who was broken. All the Basile power she now possessed couldn’t fix what La Dame had taken from her.

  “You’re my brother.” Her voice was calm, devoid of emotion.

  Tyson’s was the opposite. Everything he was feeling was infused into his words as he lowered his voice. “And he’s my brother.”

  “Go.” Etta turned away. Before leaving, she spoke once more. “Bela has a greater foe than the boys of Gaule.”

  It was meant to be an insult, but it served as a shock back into reality. There was a long road ahead of them and the fight was far from over.

  Alex and Tyson mounted their horses and rode between two guards. In a few days, they’d reach Gaule and none of them knew what they’d find when they got there. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

  The mountains cast a shadow over every word they spoke. La Dame was there behind the high walls blocking off the mountain paths of Dracon.

  Etta crouched in the sand beside the edge of the ocean using her magic to pull the waves in closer. They crashed at her feet, splashing up onto the worn brown trousers she wore.

  In the days following the battle, she’d regained her strength, but hadn’t begun exploring her new power. She’d tried once and the anger it brought forth frightened her. She refused to let it change her any more than it already had and the only way to prevent that was to keep every bit of magic locked down deep inside her.

  Her people looked to her for leadership, knowing once word reached Gaule of their victory, more descendants of Bela would flood their village.

  The palace would not be rebuilt. She refused to even think about that after everything that happened there.

  A briny breeze lifted her hair, and she closed her eyes. It was time for her to claim her birthright.

  Lines of people covered the beach behind her and as she stood, she turned to face them. There were no nerves as she’d expected. No emotions. Only acceptance.

  Edmund and Matteo walked forward to each take an arm, leading her to stand in the circle of Belaens. It closed around her.

  She focused her magic on the sand, molding and shaping it until a golden crown sat gleaming in the sun. Each point dipped and curved gracefully. It was simple. No jewels. No etchings. Just like her people. They’d suffered and remained strong. They had been loyal to her family for generations.

  The crown before her was not a signal that they belonged to her.

  It let the world know she belonged to them.

  Her knees hit the sand, and she bowed her head. Matteo, one of the three last remaining Basile’s, lifted the crown from the sand.

  His voice rang out among the crowd. “I once thought freedom didn’t exist. What I didn’t realize is that it’s not something that just happens to you. You must take it. Today we take our freedom. Bela is our kingdom. There will be many d
ark days ahead, but they cannot take it from us.”

  He lowered his eyes to Etta. “Persinette Basile, you have always been our queen. You’ve fought for us. Bled for us. Given your life to the curse that marked our family. Before you faced La Dame, I told you there is no freedom in death. Now, in life, you can have every freedom, every honor. The Basile power has returned to these lands and we believe in you.”

  He leaned down and set the crown atop her head. Her magic raced beneath her skin, glowing in recognition of her finally accepting the role she was meant to play.

  The crowd gasped as the sand flew into the air, spinning around her. Her heart beat slowly, accepting the power rather than fearing it. Her hair tugged and pulled as it flew out behind her wildly.

  She stood, and the sand settled back to the earth, revealing queen Persinette Basile with her long glowing golden hair and a determined set to her mouth.

  Her eyes flashed as she beheld the mountains once more, feeling her people move in closer.

  They were only in the beginning of their fight. For she was Persinette Basile. Daughter of the kingslayer. Ex-cursed. Queen of Bela. Keeper of the Basile magic. And the magic folk always had greater battles to wage.

  Epilogue

  Maiya stared into the face of Rapunzel where her portrait hung in the great entranceway of La Dame’s mountain palace. The depth of sadness in the woman’s eyes, matched her own.

  Dracon was not her home.

  She didn’t remember her time there as a child and as she wandered the streets of stone, she couldn’t help feeling out of place.

  She’d betrayed the one person she’d ever truly loved. A woman who was meant to be queen of Bela. A queen she could have followed with her whole heart.

  Glancing to the side, she caught her father talking to one of the guards. They’d been called from their cold, ugly one-room home to attend La Dame. A chill swept through her but it didn’t dim the fire of regret.

  Maiya had never known her mother. She never imagined she’d been born of someone so close to La Dame. But Esme had found a way out. She’d stayed in Bela when Maiya hadn’t been given the chance to.

  Had her mother even thought of her?

  Her shoulders sagged and her curls bounced around her face as she turned.

  “Maiya,” her father said sternly. He’d never been stern before returning to Dracon. “Come. We can’t make La Dame wait.”

  She followed her father down the long hall. Two uniformed guards stood outside ornate cherry wood double doors. A dragon was carved across them.

  The doors were opened, and they entered the torch-lit room. Pillars lined the walls, black as night. Deep red velvet carpeting created a path to the golden throne.

  La Dame sat casually twisting her dark hair around a finger. When she caught sight of them, a smile curved her lips.

  “Pierre,” she said. “Maiya. So good of you to come.”

  Pierre bowed and jerked Maiya into a curtsy.

  “It is our pleasure, your Majesty.”

  La Dame’s eyes latched onto Maiya and she squirmed under the scrutiny.

  “Hello,” La Dame said sweetly. “I haven’t had the chance to speak with the girl who brought me Persinette.”

  “I didn’t bring her to you,” she mumbled.

  “What was that, dear?”

  “She came to save Alex.”

  “Ah yes. She loved him very much. It was interesting to watch. But she didn’t have power then. She didn’t know what it was like to feel it inside her, grasping for more.” She tapped her chin. “But she will. Persinette Basile will come to me.”

  “Don’t hurt her.” The words were out before Maiya could stop them.

  “Maiya,” her father snapped.

  La Dame held up a hand. “It’s okay. Rest assured, I do not plan to harm Persinette… much. I simply want to make her see what she can be. Now that the Basile power has returned to this land, we have a chance at greatness.”

  “We?”

  The woman smiled. “Persinette reminds me very much of my Rapunzel. Viktor named her after my girl for reasons I will not share with you. Yet. I never imagined the Basile power would return, but I have waited to find it. I am a patient woman. I will wait a while longer for the power inside her to draw her to our walls.” She stood. “Until then, dear Maiya, you will take your mother’s place in my household.”

  Maiya opened her mouth to protest, but La Dame held up a hand and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

  “Apparently, your father didn’t have time to teach you manners in Gaule.”

  Pierre hung his head as his daughter choked beside him.

  “No mind.” La Dame walked toward them. “We have no need of him, anyway.” A blast of power shot out of her and Maiya tried to scream as her father collapsed to the ground.

  She fell to her knees, and the breath whooshed back into her. Scrambling to her father’s side, she knew it was already too late. Tears clogged her throat.

  La Dame bent down and lifted Maiya’s chin with one long finger. “Don’t cry. You didn’t need him any longer, dear. There comes a time when a woman must stand on her own. You’ll see.” She straightened. “Now, we wait.”

  “For what?” Maiya held back another sob.

  “For Persinette to give in to the river of magic inside her. For her to sink under the current and rise as my equal. Our power creates two parts of a whole. Don’t worry, dear. She will come to me and together, we will be unstoppable.”

  —

  Don’t worry! Alex and Etta’s story is far from over. Pick up your copy of Golden Crown here: michellelynnauthor.com/goldencrown or keep reading for a preview!

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  What’s Next?

  A rebellious queen. A dying king.

  * * *

  Etta once thought she wanted to kill Alexandre. Now, she will do anything to save him.

  * * *

  She never wanted to be a queen, never thought of restoring her long-dead kingdom. Bela is in ruins, destroyed by years of abandonment and a recent battle, but still, it is the only safe place for her people.

  La Dame lurks on the border in Dracon, waiting for her revenge.

  In Gaule, magic folk are hunted and punished for their Belaen heritage.

  The magic folk crave peace.

  A trip into Gaule brings Etta face to face with the one person who can destroy her with one simple act: dying.

  No longer tied to Alex by magic, his death should mean nothing to her.

  As she learns more about who she truly is and the legacy of her family, she’s forced to answer three questions.

  Can she save the king of Gaule?

  Can he be trusted if she does?

  And what will it mean for her people if she finds herself unable to let go of him again?

  * * *

  Book 3 in the Fantasy and Fairytales series, Golden Crown will drag you into a story of adventure, sacrifice, and love.

  * * *

  Get your copy of Golden Crown here.

  Golden Crown

  It may as well have been the edge of the world. The white cliffs stretching above the frothing sea, their razor-sharp edge dropping over open sky.

  The danger was in getting too close to where the earth dropped off. To where the dark depths gurgled. But there was a thrill in going where no sane person would go, in focusing on nothing but the steady balance that would keep you from tumbling into the deep.

  Etta walked that line, between sanity and crazed daring. She flung her arms out to her sides and hung her toes over the edge.

  Behind her stood the ruins of the palace of her ancestors. It still bore the memory of what they’d done. The scars were etched deep into the soul of Bela, never to be forgotten.

  But they were here. Her people had returned and they worked night and day to make the village everything they needed it to be.

  And s
he wanted to step off the edge.

  She didn’t want to die. That was the opposite of everything she longed for. It only held nothingness and she didn’t want nothingness.

  She wanted everything. To feel everything. To rid herself of the chill that entered her soul the day she faced La Dame.

  Her legs wobbled beneath her, just enough to throw her off balance. She pitched forward, her feet knocking a shower of rocks over the edge.

  Should she be afraid? The question struck her as she failed once again to regain her footing and slipped farther forward.

  Her left foot hit open air, suspended for a moment of disbelief before the right foot joined it and she tumbled over. The water neared and her stomach dropped, but she didn’t scream.

  A rush of wind pushed underneath her, lifting her in an arc, and a sigh escaped her lips. As her back slammed onto the grassy cliff, stealing the air from her lungs, she lifted her eyes.

  “Edmund.” Brushing her pants, she got to her feet.

  His brow scrunched in worry. “That’s the third time I’ve kept you from falling. You shouldn’t be coming up here anymore.”

  She brushed past him. “Then it’s a good thing you don’t make my decisions for me.”

  He fell into step beside her. “You could’ve stopped yourself if you’d used your magic.”