Glass Princess

by M. Lynn

  Vengeance. The thing Helena had pledged to enact on Cole but had made no move to do so.

  She shifted in her seat. “I’m going back to Madra.”

  A grim smile slithered across Amalie’s face. “Do Edmund and Tyson know this? They’ve been raised around an army. Plan. Plan. Plan. I much prefer to let spontaneity be my weapon.”

  Helena shook her head. “They won’t come. Well, at least Tyson won’t.” As she said it, she knew it was true. But Edmund? It was one thing speaking the words in the woods of Gaule, but actually bringing Edmund back to Madra was another matter. Why should Edmund and Tyson leave the safety of Bela? Edmund may have lived in Madra, but it wasn’t his kingdom. Without Estevan there, it held nothing for him. No, Cole was her responsibility. None of this would stop until she faced him.

  “I have someone you need to meet.” Amalie shot to her feet. “Come.”

  Helena followed Amalie through the halls until they reached the courtyard. Instead of turning toward the gate, she veered around the corner to where a set of barracks stood at the back of the estate. Their walls leaned in on each other as if they might fall and pieces of thatching littered the ground.

  “We haven’t had the funds to repair the barracks, but my people don’t care. They don’t spend much time here, anyway.”

  Helena glanced from side to side nervously as they ducked inside. Rows of bunks lined each wall, but most stood empty. Only a few people lingered about. Amalie nodded to each. In the back, she stopped in front of an occupied bunk. A monster of a man slept with his legs dangling over the end.

  Amalie kicked the bed. “Will. Oy, wake up.”

  The big man stirred but didn’t wake. “Will.”

  He cracked one eye open. “Shove off, Ames.”

  “Get your hairy butt out of this bed right now, or I will stick an arrow right through your thick skull.”

  He groaned and rolled over.

  Helena sucked in a breath as she caught sight of the line of tattoos snaking down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. A Madran Mercenary.

  “I’m counting, Will.” Amalie tapped her foot. “One. Two…”

  “I’m getting up.” He sat and rubbed a hand across his angular jaw before pushing his long, dark hair away from his face. “I was up late because someone knocked out a couple of traders who obviously hadn’t been starving by the weight of them.”

  Amalie’s eyes widened as they flicked to Helena. Will, seeing her for the first time, scrunched his brow.

  “Who is she?” He jabbed his thumb toward Helena but kept his eyes on Amalie.

  Helena’s heart seized as he turned his gaze on her and slid it down her body. She’d never been face to face with a mercenary before.

  Amalie ignored the question. “Do you remember the story you told me of how Quinn Rhodipus saved your life when the Madran army captured you in Cana?”

  He nodded, hesitation in his eyes.

  “Who did he save you from?”

  Helena got the impression Amalie already knew the answer, and the question was only for her benefit.

  “His own priest darned brother,” Will spat. “I’ll never forget that. When Cole Rhodipus controlled the army, he viewed mercenaries as traitors. I can’t believe that blasted bastard is king now.”

  Helena understood now. Why Amalie had brought her to this man. She had allies.

  Amalie bit her lip for a moment before turning to face Helena. “Will has contacts in Bela. Traders. It’s how we… let’s just say he’s an asset to me. He can get you to Madra.”

  Will scowled. “Ames, I work for you. I’m not helping some blasted…” His eyes scanned her again. “Noble get across the sea unless you give me a priest darned good reason.”

  Summoning every ounce of courage she could muster, Helena stuck out her hand. “Helena Rhodipus, rightful heir to the Madran throne. How do you feel about a little vengeance?”

  Will stood, taking his time to examine the truth in her eyes. “You are her, aren’t you? The masked princess?” He grasped her hand. “I’m a mercenary, doll. We’re always prepared to fight.” He considered her for a moment longer. “I won’t set foot in that kingdom again, but if finding you a way across aids in taking down that bastard king, I will do it.”

  That was it.

  The plans formed in her mind. No more waiting. She was going to Madra.

  Chapter Twelve

  Helena gripped the horn of her saddle, every muscle eager to begin the journey back to Madra. Will’s words the night before ran through her mind. He knew more about the current situation in Madra than he should have, but each time mercenaries passed through, they stopped to try to convince him to join them. His family was well-respected within their ranks.

  A ship. That was the first part of the plan. Then a place to stay once she reached Madra. He’d told her the mercenaries were staying out of the city but that there were rebels hidden throughout. A bakery held their secrets and she’d find them there. They would help her get into the palace.

  No one knew of her meeting the night before, and now Will was nowhere to be found. He’d travel into Bela by a different route. Madran mercenaries weren’t welcome in the kingdom they’d fought to destroy only a few years ago.

  Deep-seated resentment ran through every bit of Bela, and it would probably never go away. It didn’t matter that the mercenaries were only doing a job they were paid handsomely to do. They’d had no loyalty to La Dame. Loyalty was a foreign concept to them altogether.

  Helena’s eyes slid over Tyson, Edmund, and Landon. What would they think if they knew she planned to put her trust in someone they’d consider an enemy?

  What would Dell think? He didn’t have the same hatred inside him, but she hadn’t told him, and she didn’t know why.

  Beside her, Vérité lifted his head as if giving his approval. The horse was right. They’d wasted enough time waiting for Dell to recover from the healing. But it hadn’t been wasted if he recovered, had it? Her anxiousness to return home overrode all sense.

  Dell’s exhaustion would last a while longer. Helena had enough experience with healing to know that. She observed him for any sign of struggle. He showed none.

  After meeting Will, she’d slipped into Dell’s room to find him thrashing on the bed. He only calmed when she crawled in beside him and wrapped her body around his.

  He hadn’t woken, but his heart had slowed, and his breathing had evened. His body may recover but his mind… that would take longer. She could still remember the moment before a knife sliced into her as she fought during the rebellion. The second she thought it was the end.

  It wasn’t something she’d ever forget and now Dell had a similar memory. The bite of metal sliding into his flesh would be forever burned into his brain. He’d been a street fighter in Madra, but his weapon had only been his fists.

  She tore her eyes away from him to find Tyson standing in front of Vérité feeding him an apple.

  Edmund mounted his horse. “Is Amalie coming to wish us well?”

  Maiya appeared at his words, walking down the steps until she stood in front of them. “Mistress Amalie had to take care of something. She wishes you well on your travels.”

  “Bloody brilliant,” Tyson grumbled under his breath. Was he upset she didn’t bother to say goodbye or that they’d come there in the first place?

  Helena hadn’t missed his many glances toward Amalie when he thought no one was looking. His eyes held a longing that sent a crack right through the center of her heart. He still loved her, but something in Helena told her Tyson didn’t know the girl who ran this house. Not anymore. She had her own secrets now, just as they all did.

  Helena’s eyes drifted back to Dell. Were her secrets going to break them? She wanted to tell him to come with her. To stand by her side. But Cole would kill Dell without a second thought. She didn’t believe Cole wanted to kill her. It was maybe a foolish hope, but if true, his hesitation would be her opening. Cole never loved Estevan or th
eir parents… but she’d thought he’d loved her, despite how hard he tried not to.

  Tyson patted Vérité’s neck before climbing on. “I just want to be back on the road home.”

  Home. Helena envied him. But soon she’d be returning to hers as well.

  Edmund nodded in agreement. “The quicker we’re away from the Leroy estate, the better.”

  “Prince Tyson.” Maiya’s small voice made them all pause. “Mistress Amalie wishes you could have parted as friends.”

  Tyson turned the horse away from her. “Yeah? Well, she sure showed it, didn’t she?”

  Helena didn’t like the sarcasm in his voice. It was so very different from the kind prince she knew.

  Maiya fixed Tyson with a soft stare. “She wishes me to ask you…” She sucked in a breath. “Please do not return here. But should you have need of us we will come to your aid. The past counts toward something.”

  Tyson clenched his fists but bowed his head. “Yes, lady Maiya. I will do well to remember your words.”

  Unlike Amalie the night before, the young man couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes.

  He kicked his heels and took off through the open gate.

  Helena spared one final glance for the fortress at her back before following him. Soon, she’d return to Bela, but that was only the beginning.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Helena glanced over her shoulder at her companions as they crested the rise in the valley before riding down into the village.

  Relief washed through her when she spotted the shack at the top of the hill. Aron would have seen them by now from his spot in the watch tower—if they could call it that.

  As if to prove how right she was, four horses cantered toward them bearing Belaen guards. Etta and Alex’s version of city guards wore no armor. Helena suspected they didn’t need it when they could rely on magic.

  Riding in the center of the guards was none other than the king himself.

  Alex shouted a greeting.

  “Oi, King.” Edmund smiled, more in exhaustion than from any sense of joy.

  Helena had long since stopped being shocked by the informality in Bela. She reminded herself Edmund wasn’t disrespecting Alex. They were friends. She suspected her father had never had any friends. Stev hadn’t either… until Edmund.

  Such was the price of power. But here in Bela, those rules didn’t seem to apply. Etta and Alex had surrounded themselves with people who loved them despite their crowns, not because of them.

  Helena’s cheeks warmed as she caught Dell studying her, but she glanced away and nudged her horse forward.

  Alex stopped in front of them, the guards hanging back. “You’ve returned.”

  “Good observation, Alex.” Tyson turned away from him. With that, he snapped his heels against the horse’s sides and took off toward the village.

  Alex raised an eyebrow.

  Edmund’s gaze followed Tyson until he disappeared among the trees. “We had to stop at the Leroy Estate for a few days.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Which one of you was hurt? Ty would only go to Amalie if he had need of Maiya.”

  Dell raised a hand. “That would be me.”

  Alex nodded. “You okay now?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Good. Now tell me what the bloody hell happened to you in Gaule. We’ve had no word and you all look as if you’ve been…”

  “In Gaule?” Edmund finished for him.

  Alex rubbed his eyes. Helena struggled to see the man before her as Queen Catrine’s son. He’d grown up as a prince of Gaule before the kingdom fell apart and became a haven for civil war and the bandits picking over the carcass of a troubled land.

  “Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “My mother?”

  “Can rot in that kingdom of hers.” Helena directed a challenging gaze to him. At the mention of the woman who had handed Quinn to Madra, rage slammed under her skin, twisting around her heart.

  Edmund sighed. “Can we talk about this once I have an ale in me… or three?”

  “Priest, that sounds like heaven.” Dell tried to sit straighter in his saddle, but Helena saw the struggle.

  Alex glanced to the guards at his sides. “Fine. Etta will want to know you’ve returned. I swear, she loses her mind with worry every time someone she cares for steps across the border.”

  Helena’s anger simmered, lessening with each passing moment. She couldn’t resent Bela for what Gaule had done despite their connections. The world still wasn’t safe for magic wielders. They’d fought for every bit of freedom they had.

  But hadn’t everyone?

  She touched her cheek out of habit, half expecting to feel the confining lace of a mask. Instead, her fingertips brushed soft skin that didn’t feel like hers. She wasn’t this beautiful princess. Not anymore.

  Her hand slid into the dark tangles atop her head, unkempt from days on the road.

  Alex took them down the path that circled the village and led to the bridge across the narrow river.

  Once on the other side, they dismounted outside the palace stables.

  Etta ran out to greet them, passing each person until she reached Vérité. She threw her arms around his neck. “You’re back.”

  Vérité rubbed his nose against the side of her head.

  Edmund snorted. “I survived Gaule as well, but no… nobody cares about Edmund.”

  Etta released Vérité and grinned before stepping to Edmund and rubbing his nose. “You’re a good boy too, Edmund.”

  He swatted her hand away and pulled her into a hug.

  “Looks like the journey was good for you.” She pulled back and reached up to touch the edges of his smile.

  He shook his head. “This journey wasn’t good for anyone. I’m just glad to be back in Bela.”

  Etta turned to Helena. “Tyson arrived a few moments before you. He explained the basic events. I’m sorry about your brother but relieved you have returned safe.” Her gaze flitted to Dell. “And that you survived your wounds.”

  Dell dipped his head in thanks.

  Etta met Helena’s gaze once more. “We must talk. Alone.” She began walking. “Edmund, see to the horses.”

  “Yes, my liege.” A mocking note rang in his voice but also affection.

  Where was Etta leading her? They rounded the side of the small house and Helena sucked in a breath. She hadn’t seen the gardens before.

  Laid out before her were rows of the most vibrant flowers she’d ever seen. Living in the city, the only flowers most people saw were in small window boxes or on dying stems in the markets. The palace of Madra had gardens, but even those didn’t compare to this.

  Yellows, pinks, and blues stretched across the landscape, winding around paths of pale stone. Large trees hung their flowering vines over the paths.

  A white stone bench sat in the center.

  Helena imagined she was seeing things, but it was as if the flowers woke to Etta’s presence and an excited buzz filled the air, tingling along Helena’s arms.

  She’d heard of the queen’s power of growth, but this was beyond anything she’d imagined. “Did you…” She shook her head. No, even after all the magic she’d witnessed, it still felt impossible to her.

  But Etta confirmed her first thought. “I created this place to think.” She closed her eyes, inhaling the floral scented air. “When I was younger, I lived in a forest and my world was so dark, I made a field of flowers just to add light to my life. Some beauty. It was the first time I realized being surrounded by my magic allowed my mind to clear. When we built this home, the first thing I knew I needed was a place like that.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Etta lowered herself onto the bench. “You must be exhausted from the journey. I know a lot has happened since I saw you last, but we’re short on time. First, I am so very sorry about your brother.”

  Helena lowered her gaze to hide the sadness in her eyes.

  Etta patted the seat beside
her. “Sit, please.” When Helena obeyed, she continued. “I know you’re disappointed in how little help you have received from foreign kingdoms. In your eyes, we should all act against a usurper. I’m not going to defend what Queen Catrine allowed to happen, because I don’t agree with her decision. But I do understand it. Gaule is not what it once was, and Camille is the heir. It does sound as though she offered small aid in letting you try to capture Quinn. She couldn’t have known Reed would betray Dell.”

  Etta fixed her eyes on a flowering yellow bush. “I want to help you, but I can’t ask any of my people to fight in a foreign land. Not again.”

  Helena stopped her. “I understand your decision. If Bela gets involved in Foreign affairs, you become the peacekeepers of the six kingdoms. I don’t want magic used in my kingdom any more than you want it used outside yours.”

  A smile lit Etta’s face, and she brushed her blonde braid over her shoulder before growing serious once again. “There is news out of Madra. The port has been closed to all foreign trade. We had already ceased trading with them, but now they’ve cut off the rest of the six kingdoms.”

  Helena snapped her eyes to Etta’s. “But that’s…” She had no words to describe exactly what it was, but Etta seemed to understand.

  Etta tapped her fingers against her leg. “Your brother has also pulled all troops from the Draconian border.”

  Helena’s brow scrunched. “I thought the war was over years ago.” She suddenly hated her father for refusing to allow Helena to learn of the other five kingdoms.

  “It was, but when we signed the peace accords, Madra promised a significant force for five years to ensure Dracon rebuilt their towns, but not their army. I have a sizable force there as well and this morning I received word from one of my generals that our allies have abandoned them.”

  Helena’s mind refused to quiet. What was Cole doing? Isolating Madra from the rest of the six kingdoms? There’d long been a sentiment within Madra that the struggles of the kingdom resulted from foreign involvement. They weren’t wrong. Her father’s wars kept the people from thriving. But to shut the borders entirely?