by M. Lynn
“I’m sorry.” Dell gripped her hand. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
Alexandre appeared and reached Tyson is three long strides. “You were supposed to return two days ago.”
“You know mother.” He grinned. “She wanted to fatten me up.”
Dell would never wrap his head around the dynamics between Bela and Gaule. Alex and Tyson were the sons of the Gaulean queen but had different fathers. Tyson shared a father with Etta who married Alex. And then there was Camille who was still in Madra and the sister to both princes.
Alex’s smile dropped. “You went to see her, didn’t you?”
Dell had spent most of his time either following Helena to the lookout post or among the people of Bela. It was there he learned everything he needed to know about the family they now relied on for protection.
The young prince Tyson was in love with a girl who’d only ever been his friend. Once Dracon suffered defeat, the girl returned to Gaule to run her family’s estate.
Tyson studied the ground. “Amalie wasn’t at her estate. I tried, but…”
Alex put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, brother. What word do you have from Gaule? Does mother know of the happenings in Madra?”
A guilty expression flashed across his face. “She knows of the takeover. The new king has reached out to her and assured Camille’s safety and the continuation of the treaty. Mother intends to honor it.”
A stream of curses flitted through Dell’s mind, but he didn’t voice a single one as Helena squeezed his hand, the first sign she wanted his support.
The only hope they had of a peaceful resolution to this problem was if the other kingdoms put pressure on Madra. Gaule was the key to that.
“It’s happening again,” Edmund said. When had he arrived?
“No.” Etta’s braid slapped her shoulder as she shook her head. “We can trust Queen Catrine.”
“Can we?”
“Watch it,” Alex growled.
Edmund held his hands in front of his chest. “Look, I don’t mean to say Catrine is against magic-folk in the way your father was. But you have to see the signs. Non-magic kingdoms allying in fear of us? If Cana or Andes joins the alliance…”
“Cana will never ally themselves with anyone.” To Dell’s surprise, it was Helena who spoke up.
“We can’t know that,” Matteo chimed in.
“Actually, I’m the one person in this room who probably does. You say your friend is in Cana?”
“Ara,” Etta confirmed.
Helena continued. “That doesn’t mean you know anything about it. Most of the kingdoms live in blissful ignorance of what goes on beyond those borders because foreigners rarely make it out.” She breathed deeply. “Cana has no loyalty to one king or queen. They are separated into clans who are too busy fighting one another to worry about other kingdoms. You should certainly fear the individual Canaans with their assassin’s skill, but don’t worry about them signing any treaties.”
“How do you know all that?” Dell asked.
“It’s not important.”
Etta eyed her curiously. “Okay then. We need to maintain a close watch of Gaule and Madra. We have another matter of import.” She nodded to Tyson.
Tyson pulled out an unsealed letter. “They allowed Camille to write to my mother.” He held it toward Helena.
Helena snatched the paper, unfolding it rapidly. Dell read over her shoulder, his eyes only catching parts of it.
…
honor the treaty, mother. It’s the only way to ensure peace with Madra. The new king is an honorable man.
That didn’t sound like the princess at all, at least the Camille he’d met. “She didn’t write this.”
Most of the letter meant nothing to him until he came upon the words he knew would break Helena in two.
Prince Estevan died in his cell three days ago of illness. Cole was going to let his brother live.
The paper fell from her fingers, fluttering to the floor as tears cascaded down her face.
Dell tried to pull her to him, but she put up a hand to stop the movement.
“You could fix this.” Helena’s voice was so quiet, Dell wasn’t sure anyone else heard her until they all stopped. She lifted her eyes to scan the room, finally settling them on the queen. “Madra would be no match against Bela.”
“No,” Etta cut her off.
“But your magic—”
“I said no.”
“You won’t help? You’ll let me sit here idly for what… the rest of my life?” Helena straightened her spine, sending the queen a scathing look. “Madra is mine. Not Cole’s. Mine. My father is dead. They murdered my mother as I hid. I’m not hiding anymore. I am now the heir to the Madran throne.”
“We can’t.” Remorse mixed with stubbornness filled Etta’s eyes. “We have a responsibility as magic-wielders not to use our magic to overrun other kingdoms. We aren’t tyrants.”
“They. Killed. My. Brother.”
Edmund dropped to the ground at the words, needing to see the letter for himself. A strangled cry escaped his lips.
They’d all assumed Estevan wouldn’t live much longer, but the confirmation brought every emotion they’d hidden since the rebellion crashing into the room.
Edmund held the letter to his chest for a moment before ripping it in two, standing, and stalking from the room.
Etta and Alex’s gazes both followed him.
“Oh.” Understanding lit in Etta’s eyes.
“Len,” Dell whispered.
She shook her head, stumbling back until she reached the door. Dell didn’t follow her as she disappeared.
“I wish we could help them.” Etta leaned into Alex.
“Would it really be so bad?” Tyson asked. “We can’t let Camille marry a usurper.”
“Ty.” Alex fixed him with a stare. “If Bela marches into kingdoms to fix them or use the magic to subdue them, it sets expectations. Etta won’t live forever. We won’t begin down the road of dictatorship. That was how La Dame became so powerful. Magic cannot be used against non-magical folk. It isn’t right.”
Tyson sighed. “Sometimes, I wish you guys didn’t always do the right thing. I want to march into Madra and gut the king who killed Edmund’s boyfriend.”
Alex reeled back in shock. Matteo turned away.
Tyson looked between them. “You guys didn’t know?”
“You did?” Etta asked.
“From the first time I saw him. I know Edmund almost as well as I know myself. He loved the prince.”
Alex cursed. “I need to go find him.”
Dell blocked the door. “Your Majesty, the only person on this earth right now that Helena will let in is Edmund. Let them be there for each other. Just for right now.”
Alex looked as if he’d protest.
“He’s right,” Etta said. “If Edmund wanted us to help him, he’d have let us. That girl means as much to him now as you or I.”
Alex’s shoulders dropped.
Dell left them in the throne room to find some solace of his own. Estevan’s confident face flashed through his mind. Dell went against his family and joined Edmund because Edmund was so sure Estevan would do great things for Madra.
He’d been the hope for many people.
And now, like a candle in the night, he’d been extinguished, and all Dell could see of Madra’s future was darkness.
Chapter Three
For weeks, Helena assumed Stev was dead. She’d seen Cole taking him prisoner in the moments before she’d succumbed to her injuries. One of Cole’s men had stabbed her, and the last thing she’d seen was Dell hovering over her, shielding her from her brother’s wrath.
But something nagged at the back of her mind. She had to know what really happened in that hallway. Every excruciating detail. Estevan was really gone, and she had to know why.
Why didn’t he escape with them? Why did he stay? Why did Edmund let him?
The questions were the only things keepi
ng her from dipping her head under the current of her grief and refusing to surface again.
A freezing wind whipped her hair from her shoulders, and she pulled her cloak tight around herself. In the distance, a lone figure sat at the edge of the cliffs with his legs dangling over the side.
Edmund hunched his back, collapsing in on himself. As Helena neared, she took in the sound of violent waves crashing on the rocks below. Fitting.
She approached Edmund silently and lowered herself beside him, glancing over the edge of the cliff before inching back. “How are you not terrified of falling?”
Edmund continued to stare out at the churning sea. “I fear many things, Lenny. Falling to my death is not one of them.”
“That’s… morose.”
He finally turned to face her, but his eyes held a faraway look. “My greatest fear has already happened.”
“Mine too.”
His lips tugged down, and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. After a beat of silence, he slid back from the edge of the cliff and pulled Helena against his side. She buried her face in his shoulder as he stroked her hair.
“I wasn’t only afraid of losing Stev,” he whispered. “It’s anyone I love. So much has happened in the past few years. Bela’s war with Dracon. Turmoil in Gaule. The Madran rebellion. I’ve been living in constant terror of the people around me dying. Etta, Alex, Tyson, Matteo, Stev, You… Even Camille. At this point, I’d probably even get upset if Vérité died, and I hate that blasted horse.”
A sound between a laugh and a cry escaped Helena’s mouth. “I’ve never experienced fear like that. My entire life, I’ve been protected, shielded. Now it’s all I can think about. How do you live like this, Edmund? With your heart ripped out of your chest again and again.”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” A tear tracked down his face, and Helena wiped it away with her thumb.
“I keep wondering if it would be better for Quinn to be dead or for him to have chosen Cole.”
“Not dead.” Edmund shook his head.
“But if he betrayed us too… I can’t live with that.”
“Yes, you can. It’s amazing the kinds of things we can live with.” He sucked in a breath and fell silent.
Helena shivered, and Edmund pulled her closer.
The words she wanted to say next clogged in her throat. Edmund’s eyes held so much pain. Was it right for her to make him relive it?
His entire body shook, and she knew he was reliving it anyway.
“Edmund.”
He didn’t respond for a long moment as he got his breathing under control. “Yeah, Len?”
“I don’t remember being taken from the palace. My final moments with Stev are just… gone.” It took all her effort to keep a quiver out of her voice. “I need to know everything.”
He sighed. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you haven’t asked before now.”
“My brother wasn’t dead before now.”
Edmund’s gaze wandered away from her again. “Don’t fool yourself, Len. He’s been dead to us since we left that palace. We always knew we wouldn’t get him back.”
She pressed her lips together. “Please, just tell me.”
“Cole…” He cleared his throat. “He was going to arrest us all. You and I had been captured. One of Cole’s men threw a knife at you.” He rested his cheek on her hair. “I thought you were dead.”
He stopped speaking, and she squeezed his hand, urging him to go on.
He did. “Stev thought you were gone too. But Kassander wasn’t. He and Dell had hidden him. Once the healer said you wouldn’t live, Stev made a deal.”
Helena tilted her head up to look at him. “What kind of deal?”
“If Cole allowed me, you, Dell, and Kass to leave, he’d give himself over willingly and tell his people to stand down.”
Helena leaned away from him and scooted back. “It’s all my fault. He’s dead because of me.” She got to her feet.
Edmund followed her. “No. He thought you’d die whether we got you to Corban or not. Stev sacrificed himself for me and Kassander. Every bit of fault lies with me.”
Helena couldn’t hear any more. She turned on her heel and ran back to the palace. Etta and Alex stared at her as she sprinted toward the room she was staying in. She searched under the mattress for the only piece of her mother she had left.
Her knives.
Two golden-hilted blades came free, and she tucked them into the bodice of her simple shift dress before leaving the same way she’d come. Anger churned through her veins, and if she didn’t let it loose, she’d do something she regretted.
She reached the clearing behind the palace and pulled the knives free. Centering her body with the base of a tall pine tree, she raised one arm. Inhale. Exhale. Flick the wrist. Release.
The knife stuck in the tree with a thunk. She didn’t pause before sending the second in the same arc.
She ran to the tree and yanked them free before finding a second target. Anger and desperation fueled her drive, making her forget everything but the weight of the blades in her hands.
As Helena released the first knife again, someone screamed, ducking out of the way. The knife hit a tree and clattered to the ground.
Kassander’s dark head appeared in the clearing, his eyes wide.
Had she been so focused, she hadn’t seen her brother there? She ran forward. “Kass, you okay?”
He lifted his head, a grin spread across his face. “How did you learn to do that?”
In that moment, Helena realized Kassander didn’t know. No one told him about Stev. She pulled him off the ground and hugged his lanky frame, ruffling his familiar curls.
“Hey.” He pulled back. “What’s wrong, Len?”
Her face fell. Even her little brother could read every emotion in her eyes.
“I need to tell you something, Kass.”
“If it’s about Quinn…”
“It’s not. It’s about Stev.”
Kassander’s brow furrowed.
“He died, Kass.”
Kassander grimaced. “We already knew he was dead.”
“No, we’d only assumed.”
“I don’t see the difference.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me we lost another brother.”
Helena bent to peer into her brother’s eyes. She took his chin between two fingers, forcing him not to look away. “Do you have faith in Quinn?”
He nodded.
“So do I. And Kass, if he never comes, you still have me. Okay, kid? You’ll always have me.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll always have me too.”
Every bit of anger she’d felt seeped out of her at those words. She wasn’t alone. Madra hadn’t only been her kingdom. She wasn’t the only one who would one day want it back.
Nothing changed in Bela as the days turned into nights. Helena continued watching for Quinn alongside Aron, but he never came. Edmund still went off on his own most days, but in the evenings, he’d sit with Alex and tell him of his time in Madra.
Kassander and Corban had taken to following Alex around, fascinated by the confident king, the man without magic who lived among the magic-folk.
Dell improved with the sword. Not like he’d ever get the chance to use it.
And each moment they sat across the sea, the people of Madra were ruled by a usurper, a bastard prince.
Helena tried to push thoughts of the brother she’d loved from her mind. Still loved? Was that even allowed? She couldn’t reconcile the brother she’d grown up with and the man who killed her parents.
She turned over in bed as light streamed through the window. The smell of bacon hit her as soon as she opened her eyes. The normalcy of that smell was like a shock to the heart. Nothing was normal.
After pulling herself from the bed, she changed into a pair of woolen pants and a heavy shirt before padding across the cold stone floor to the kitchen.
The king of Bela stood
shirtless in front of the stove, sweat dripping down his back as he turned over griddle cakes and bacon.
Helena froze, her jaw falling open. Alexandre Durand was a beautiful man. In Madra, the royal family had a host of servants preparing every meal. It had taken quite a bit of getting used to over the last few weeks to have the king and queen do everything for themselves.
It was the way of Bela. Etta may lead, but she did not rule. And her people were more loyal because of it. Because she was one of them.
The queen in question stepped up to Helena’s side. “He wanted to cheer you guys up, make you feel more at home, after…” She didn’t need to say it. After they learned of their brother’s death.
Edmund appeared behind them. “So he decided to walk around shirtless? That’s one way to cheer us up.”
Etta pushed his shoulder. “No. He made breakfast.”
Edmund laughed, the sound making them all pause. He’d been in such pain he hadn’t so much as cracked a smile recently. He froze as if realizing what he’d done. That for just a moment, he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be feeling.
Alex turned. “If I knew all it took was bacon to hear that sound again, I’d have made it every morning.”
Etta covered her mouth with her hands and pretended to cough. “Wasn’t the bacon.”
Helena smiled, thankful for the lightness she’d missed so much. She’d always joked around with her siblings, but never had friends of her own.
Edmund blushed, but shrugged as if he wasn’t ashamed. Helena wished she knew herself so well. She spotted Dell sitting near the fire, his gaze trained on her. His eyes darkened, and Helena pulled hers away.
What would it be like to give in to her desires like everyone else around her? Stev had been so brave, so strong in being with the person he loved. She could only imagine what their father’s reaction would have been. The two men would have been separated at the very least.
What had Helena ever been brave about? She lived her life behind a mask, never showing who she really was.
Stev lived freely. He may have been stiff and formal at times, but he defied their father to give food to the people. He fell in love with another man. He protected her at all costs.