by M. Lynn
He kissed her cheek again. “You’ve got yourself a date.”
He shoved the rest of the pastry into his mouth as he stepped back out onto the street.
The city spread out before him as the sun peeked over the two story wooden shops. Flat, terracotta roofs spanned the horizon.
A horse’s hooves echoed against the stone road. Dell loved Madra. Since arriving in the city, they’d welcomed him with open arms. Shopkeepers had kept an eye on the wild boy who never seemed like he had enough to eat.
They’d given him their children’s old clothing.
He was one of them.
Only, he wasn’t.
Because Dell was a merchant’s son. His family’s ships brought the goods sold in their shops and they used their power to control their daily lives. The Tenyson boys bullied the common kids through their adolescence and continued to lord their control even into adulthood.
What would people like Agathe think if they knew Dell carried the Tenyson name as well?
He smiled at the portly fellow opening the butcher shop, trying to hide the confusion swirling in his mind. He wanted to belong among them.
A breeze whipped through the streets, carrying the odor that told of a proximity to the sea. They called Madra the gateway kingdom. Goods passed through between Bela and Gaule and the Kingdoms to the North. The docks were their point of entry and an impressive one at that.
Outside the city, one could find spots to gaze out at the sea, but the docks themselves sat in the widest part of the river.
Long wooden piers stretched as far as he could see to the left and right. Some were empty, but most housed merchant vessels, their sails flapping in the wind like the beat of a familiar drum. A few war vessels were in, but most had carried their troops to the various fronts ordered by the king.
Sailors called greetings to Dell. In their eyes, he was no different from them. They worked their fingers to the bone every day with no chance for respite.
Dell’s feet took him to a row of ships belonging to the Tenyson family. Grant, his stepmother’s most favored captain, spotted him and jumped his thick frame from the rigging, landing on the deck with a defining thud.
“You’re late.” He scowled.
Dell wasn’t late, but Grant said it every time.
Grant walked toward the rail where a mop leaned next to a bucket of muddy brown water. “Galley needs cleaned.” He walked away.
Stretching his neck from side to side, Dell reached for the bucket. He wrapped his fingers around the mop and kicked open the door before descending into the darkness.
Dell worked tirelessly until dark—Grant didn’t allow breaks—and when he finally decided it was quitting time, Dell found his brothers waiting for him at the side of the ship.
Setting his hands on the rail, he leaped over, stumbling from exhaustion as he landed.
Ian let out a low chuckle and stepped forward. Reed hung back. It was how it always was with them. Ian led and Reed followed.
“Where have you been?” Ian asked.
Dell brushed a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “Right here.”
Ian shoved him back. “Before today. You’ve been missing.”
“Aw.” Dell leaned close, a smirk planted on his lips. “I’m touched you care.”
He saw the punch coming even before Ian lurched forward, so he ducked out of the way. Ian lunged again, but Dell was quick. All the time he spent boxing paid off. He shifted his feet and the next time Ian’s arm shot out, he grabbed his wrist and twisted it down before delivering a blow to his brother’s cheek.
“Reed,” Ian growled.
Like a dog responding to its master, Reed advanced. Dell glanced between them. Each was larger than him and with his fighting skills he could take down one. But what then? What would his stepmother do?
So, he did the only thing he could think of.
Dell ran, his exhausted legs stumbling the first few steps.
He wasn’t proud of it, but he had no choice. If they’d been anyone else, he’d have taken them on and fought until he couldn’t anymore. But his brothers were untouchable.
He made it to the end of the docks and heard their steps thundering after him, punctuated by Ian’s yelled threats. He turned onto the street and ducked into an alley, jumping over something he barely even saw without breaking his speed.
He hurtled onto the next street and was halfway down when someone yelled to him sharply.
“Dell.”
Dell’s feet skidded to a halt, and he turned to find Edmund standing with Agathe in front of her bakery.
Edmund walked into the street just as Ian and Reed appeared. They stopped a few yards away, their eyes seething. They didn’t dare touch Dell with the Belaen Ambassador present.
Dell bent over, gasping for breath as the day’s work caught up with him.
How was Edmund always so calm?
Edmund straightened his shoulders to face Dell’s brothers.
Agathe stepped up beside Dell. “It’s okay, dear.”
Dell’s mind spun rapidly. “You know who I am? Does everyone?” He glanced toward the row of deserted shops.
“Only me,” she assured him. “And only for the last few months.”
Edmund’s voice was not one to argue with. “You Tenyson’s…” He shook his head. “I have only been in Madra a year, but even I know how the tip of the spiral is supposed to behave. Mistreating your brother is below your station.”
“He’s not our brother,” Ian growled. “Just a servant.”
A blast of air whipped around them, trapping them as it swirled. Edmund’s voice seemed to carry on the wind itself.
“You will leave Dell to attend his duties in peace. The next person to lay a hand on him will answer to me.”
The wind dropped and silence descended on them until they could hear again. “Do you understand?” Edmund’s voice lowered again.
Ian and Reed didn’t respond. Instead, they turned and walked away as fast as they could without it seeming like they were running.
Dell grinned at Edmund and started a slow clap. “Bravo, friend. You just made the sons of the most powerful merchant in Madra wet themselves.”
Agathe shook her head. “You’re a vulgar one, Dell.” She eyed Edmund. “If you’re okay, I still have to lock up for the night.”
Edmund nodded. “I must speak to Dell.”
“We’ll reschedule our dinner, Dell.” Agathe left, and Dell stared at the ground, kicking a rock with his toe. He was losing count of how many times Edmund showed up to help him, but his gratitude was lost in a desire to get home and collapse into his loft.
Edmund stood still for a moment, glancing toward the far end of the street. A half-moon hung overhead, giving them what little light it had.
Dell finally lifted his eyes. “You’ve got to give me something, sir. Why are you here?”
Edmund didn’t have to ask what he meant. The question wasn’t why was he in Madra, but why did he continue to come to Dell’s aid.
Edmund studied him. “I had a hard time for many years.” He walked toward one of the shops and sat on the ground to lean against the wall. Dell followed him, lowering himself to the ground with a relieved sigh.
“My father was—is—an angry man,” he continued.
“We have that in common. My stepmother…” Dell rested his arms on his knees.
“We do, but I’ll bet your stepmother never wanted you dead.”
Dell snapped his eyes to Edmund’s. “She may wish it, but she’d never do it. However vile that woman is, she loved my father.”
“It was the magic. For a long time, the people of Gaule hated those of us with it. It made me an angry kid. I had to hide this huge part of myself. But that wasn’t the worst of it. I had no family. I was alone.”
Dell watched him with rapt attention. “What changed?”
“Loyalty. I met the prince of Gaule. He didn’t ask for my loyalty, only my friendship, but that loyalty saved me. My life had p
urpose. I would protect the future reign of Alexandre Durand.”
“I thought he was the king of Bela?” Dell asked.
Edmund laughed. “It’s a long story. But yes, he rules alongside Queen Persinette and she now has my loyalty as much as Alex.”
“This is interesting and all, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“Dell.” Edmund searched Dell’s eyes and when he seemed to find what he was looking for, he spoke again. “Give me your loyalty.”
Dell startled. “Edmund, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but… isn’t that treason? To pledge myself to someone not of Madran blood?”
“Yes. You will break laws. You could end up dead. But Dell, you could also finally find something worth fighting for.”
Flashes of Dell’s street fights rolled through his mind in quick succession. Women. Debts. Sometimes no reason at all.
What would it be like to fight for something real?
What did he really know about Edmund? Not much. Everything inside him screamed that Edmund was someone to trust. Dell so desperately wanted one person, anyone to have faith in.
But something didn’t add up.
“What’s going on, Edmund? You’re asking me to trust you, so you need to trust me as well. Why do you need me? You work for the royal family. They have people at their beck and call. Or you could have some loyal Belaen take ship.”
Edmund leaned his head back against the wall. “You’re right.” He paused. “But I need someone who knows the streets of Madra. There is going to be a coup. They will overthrow the king.”
Chapter Five
Helena’s mother was not of Madran blood. As heir to the throne, her father had to marry a foreign woman of high importance. Cana didn’t have princesses or kings. The clans were not unified in their kingdom.
Queen Chloe was the daughter of a powerful Canan warlord who had kept other clans in check for many years.
But that wasn’t all she was. They had trained Chloe Rhodipus to be an assassin. It was the way of Cana. All highborn lads and ladies held skills in the art. Cana was a nest of snakes. None of the clans trusted any other. Being clan-leader was a dangerous position.
Helena flipped a knife in her hand, eying her target. Most in Madra—including the king himself—did not know of the queen’s talents. But she’d followed the traditions of her kingdom and brought her daughter up to know what it was to fight.
A cracked wooden post sat forty paces from Helena in the empty space. She practiced in a little-used training yard, hidden from the main training ground by a high partition. Her mother’s guards stood at the door, making sure unwelcome intruders would not find the princess there.
Helena bent her knees and tilted her shoulder down before lifting her arm and flicking her wrist to send the knife end over end. It collided with the wood, a soft thud reaching her ears. The corner of her mouth ticked up. Not even her brothers knew of the talents she’d practiced for years.
She considered seeking her mother to show her the improvements she’d made in the techniques she was learning, but today was not the day for that. A foreign princess would soon arrive at their shores. The queen would set out to meet her soon.
Helena sighed as she walked forward and bent to retrieve the knife.
One of the guards stepped up, and she handed the weapon to him. “Thanks, Kolettis.”
He dipped his head. “You’re improving, Princess.”
Pride bloomed within her at the recognition. Her brothers always proved their worthiness but as the hidden princess, she had little chance to be anything other than a mystery to most people.
“My mother is a good teacher,” she responded. “I’m going to find my brothers. You can return to my mother.”
“As you wish.”
She resisted the urge to sigh again. The formality always grated on her. It was as if the people of the palace feared her. In truth, they just didn’t know her. Not like they did her brothers.
She passed under the narrow stone archways that led to the main training yard, and the clash of swords caused her to stop.
Helena watched the twins in fascination. They moved parallel to each other, perfectly in sync as they battled. When Quinn jabbed to the right, Cole knew it was coming. When Cole twisted and tried to take out Quinn’s leg, his twin saw it before it happened.
She’d always been jealous of their bond. The bastard princes hadn’t grown up with the privilege she enjoyed along with Stev and Kass. They enjoyed more freedom.
The twins were raised in a tavern until they were ten years old and their mother died. It was only then the king admitted to the knowledge of their existence. It wasn’t unusual in Madra for the king to sire many children. In fact, it was expected. That was how a royal family cemented their power—by spreading it out among different parts of the kingdom. The monarchy. The council of merchants. The priesthood. The army. Recognizing Quinn and Cole as royals expanded the Rhodipus’ control. It left only one faction without a royal—the priesthood. But Kassander would one day fill that role.
Even after they were taken into the palace, Quinn and Cole were united against the world. But never against Helena.
Kass bumped Helena’s elbow. “Will I fight like them some day?”
She smiled, her cheeks pressing against the soft mask. Many days, she stayed hidden in the family residence to avoid wearing the thing. She looked to the sky, longing to feel the sun warm her face.
“You’re to be a priest, Kass. You’ll fight with your words.” She ruffled his hair.
“And you, Len? What will you fight with?”
The question was one she’d asked herself many times. As head of the council, she wasn’t sure what she’d be fighting for. When she saw her future, she wanted to be anyone but the princess of Madra.
“I’ll… I guess I’ll use my intellect to fight.” Not her knives as she preferred.
Kassander scoffed. “Sounds boring.”
She laughed, the sound loud enough to reach the twins who both stopped fighting to turn to her. “It does. Doesn’t it?”
Kassander shrugged.
Cole ran toward them, his bare chest glistening with sweat. “Didn’t know we had an audience.”
“I didn’t get much of a chance to speak with you yesterday.” Helena shot her brother a grin.
Quinn stepped up beside Cole. Every inch of them was identical, but she’d been able to tell them apart from the first day they arrived eleven years before. Cole had an infectious joy, an incredible zeal for life. But he’d never opened himself up to the family. The hatred between him and Stev was too much to bear at times and occasionally she caught him eying their father with the same dislike. But he loved her and Kassander.
Quinn had become a part of them. No one was as close to him as Cole, but he’d still crafted strong bonds with everyone else. He had a calm confidence about him that was unmistakable.
“Hey Kassander.” Cole grinned. “Take Quinn’s sword.”
Kassander looked to her as if asking permission. She nodded, and he followed Cole across the training yard.
Quinn crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Cole let Kassander chase him with the sword before turning on him to teach him a few moves.
“I missed you two,” Helena said.
“I heard what you’ve been up to.” Unlike with Stev, there was no disappointment in Quinn’s voice, only curiosity.
“Edmund or Stev?” she asked in resignation.
“Our brother is only worried. Should he be?”
“I’m being careful. Quinn, there’s so much to see. The city. The people.”
“If you’re amazed by Madra, you should see Cana.” That was why she loved Quinn. He wouldn’t judge her for her deceptions or stress over her. He could move on. “Mother Chloe was right. It’s a beautiful country. Dangerous too.”
“Are you going back?”
He shook his head. “After your ball, I am being sent to Gaule with my troops. We’re the aid pro
mised in the betrothal agreement between Stev and the princess Camille.”
“Have you met her?” They’d all been told of Camille Durand, the widowed princess of Gaule. Her husband caught an illness more than a year before and died in his bed.
“I’ve heard stories, but most people only speak of her brother and his queen.”
“The king of Bela?” She shivered. “Is Queen Persinette really as powerful as the stories? Her magic…”
“They say it’s mostly gone.”
Disappointment seeped into her. Thinking of an all-powerful queen had led to many fantasies.
Quinn glanced toward Cole again. “He is to stay though.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Once you’re betrothed, you will gain your own guards. Cole is to choose them.”
She nodded, thankful for that. Once she could go into the city as the princess rather than disguised as a boy, guards would accompany her, and if her brother chose them, she knew she’d be safe.
Cole and Kassander dropped their swords and wrestled in the dirt, their laughs punctuated by grunts.
Footsteps echoed along the corridor leading to the training yard seconds before the queen appeared. Helena’s mother smiled when she saw her children. Every bit of hardness in their father was countered with love from their mother.
Her long purple gown swept along the ground, giving her the appearance she was floating. She looked every bit the regal queen, but Helena knew where each knife was hidden among the folds of her dress.
“Quinn.” The queen stopped in front of him and touched his cheek. “It’s good to have you home.”
The twins might not be hers, but the queen tried to be a mother to them.
“I’m glad to be here.” Quinn smiled back at her.
Cole got to his feet and lifted Kassander onto his shoulders. The boy shrieked as they trotted toward the queen.
“Mother.” Kassander giggled as Cole slid him down.
“Looks like someone is having a good time.” She turned her eyes on Cole, the same sadness in them as every other time she looked at him.
“Your Majesty.” Cole’s joy seeped out of him.