Glass Kingdom

by M. Lynn

  Camille’s tone held no accusation or suspicion, only curiosity, but he didn’t want to speak of family history with a near stranger.

  Dell shrugged. “Stepmother.”

  Edmund seemed to sense his discomfort. “Dell, I need to speak with you.”

  “I have work to do. Not all of us can befriend a king, get sent as an ambassador who never seems to have to do anything, and then sit on his ass.” He turned to grab the shovel again.

  Edmund waited a moment as Dell got back to work. “Noon. Come to the back gate of my home. One of my men will let you in. We will be waiting.”

  When they were gone, Dell threw the shovel. It crashed against the wall of the stall with a crack. What was he supposed to do?

  Someone would remove the Rhodipus’ from power. Wasn’t that what was best for Madra? Probably.

  He ran a hand through his grimy hair. Which side was Edmund on?

  And did it matter?

  Dell had never considered himself a political person. Since coming to the city, he’d kept his head down, taken everything his supposed family had done to him, and worked hard. When he was frustrated, he tended to slam his fists into people’s faces as if he was a commoner rather than scheme and connive like the rest of the merchant class. Who was he kidding? He was a bastard. He couldn’t be part of that class and that suited him fine.

  And Edmund had seen something in that?

  He pushed out a breath, unsure if he wanted to go to the meeting or not.

  But really, what did he have to lose?

  He had nothing.

  He patted horse-Ian’s nose and shuffled past him out of the barn. Edmund and Camille’s carriage had created ruts near the gate that he’d no doubt have to fill.

  If he was going to make it to Edmund’s manor house, he had to leave before his stepmother returned from the dressmakers.

  He walked to the side of the barn where a stable hand always left the barrels of water he’d filled from the well. They replenished water buckets inside each of the animal stalls.

  Dell gripped the sides of the tallest barrel and bent to plunge his head underneath the cool water. He raised it and flung dripping hair out of his face as the water soaked into the shoulders of his thin shirt. He scrubbed a hand over his face to remove the remaining dirt from a morning of work in the stables.

  Now or never.

  Time to decide.

  He glanced at the large black iron gate behind him. Ominous spikes lined the top of the structure. They meant it as a warning to all others.

  Don’t try to beat the Tenyson’s in business or in anything else. You won’t win.

  A carriage rumbled up the street and through the partially open gate. Dell’s chest deflated as his stepmother appeared.

  She scowled when she saw him.

  “What are you doing, you worthless boy? Standing around? Those stables had better be mucked by lunch and then you’re to head to the docks. One of our vessels has arrived, and you’re to help in getting the goods to the warehouse.”

  Think, Dell. He flicked his eyes back to the barn.

  “Something isn’t right with moth—with the cow.” He forced a concerned frown onto his face after almost calling the cow mother.

  “What’s this you’re talking about?” she asked harshly.

  The cow was the most prized possession they owned. In the mountainous Madra, only the wealthy had cows. Poorer folk kept goats. Some occasionally had a horse. But few had cows. And it was his ticket to that meeting.

  He nodded, a frown turning his lips down. “She’s not producing milk.”

  “It,” his stepmother said. “The cow is not a person. Not a she. Why isn’t it producing milk?”

  “I don’t know. We need to fetch Redden Martin.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Take a horse and fetch the cow man.”

  By “cow man”, she meant the one person they knew in Madra who worked with cows and kept them in good health. He lived in a small one-room shack across the city.

  Dell ran into the barn, thankful his stepmother didn’t follow him. She stayed out of the barn except when it came time to harass him.

  He considered the full buckets of milk sitting outside the cow’s stall; thankful he hadn’t carried them to the house yet. Glancing out the door, he didn’t see his stepmother, so he hauled the buckets two at a time to the small stream that ran behind the barn. The back wall of the estate had been built directly over it.

  If anyone caught him dumping cow’s milk, he’d be in serious trouble. It was worth too much in a city that lived on goat’s milk, olives, and grapes. Meat could sometimes be hard to come by during wartime. Another consequence of the king’s actions. Trade had grown more difficult. The merchants climbing the spiral were the ones who still seemed to be able to get their goods from kingdoms torn apart by fighting.

  Once the milk was gone, he hurried to saddle Ian and climbed on. He kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks and took off.

  As a boy, he’d ridden his horse every day. The beast was the only thing of any value he and his mother owned. Since then, he had little opportunity to feel the wind whip through his hair. He swerved around people in the busy streets, passing Agathe’s bakery with only a glance. She wanted him to join with Edmund. Why? He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact she’d known exactly who his father was.

  And she hadn’t cared.

  She’d treated him like he truly belonged among the city-folk.

  Agathe seemed to trust Edmund.

  Trust didn’t come easily to Dell. At all, really.

  When he reached the more affluent ambassador’s sector, Dell pulled the reins to slow horse-Ian. There was a representative from each of the five neighboring kingdoms living in the row of grandiose marble homes. No terracotta tiles adorned their roofs. Instead, they comprised an intricate thatching done meticulously. The street was deserted save for a few servants bustling in and out of doors.

  This was one of the problems in Madra. The king spent the treasury on two things: The army and impressing his fellow rulers. Instead of increasing food supply for his own people, he showered these foreigners with ornate homes and feasts.

  Once again, Dell didn’t know which side he hoped Edmund was on. Did he want the royal family overthrown because their policies were destroying his kingdom? Or did loyalty to one’s king mean more than that?

  He steered the horse around to the back of the second house and slid down. They had left the back gate unlatched, and he opened it just wide enough to slide through, guiding the horse in after him.

  He entered the courtyard on the other side, unsure what he should do next. His eyes scanned the flowering surroundings. It wasn’t unlike the house his so-called family lived in. Why should he trust Edmund when he didn’t trust them? Wealth was a disease. Those who had it lorded it over the rest and those who didn’t worked their entire lives just for a taste.

  That was the way of the city.

  Dell longed for the simpler life in the mountain villages. His mother had been all he’d needed. His neighbors had nothing but the land they grew olives and grapes on. And they wanted little else. They hadn’t needed much to be happy, unlike the people who now surrounded him in the city, constantly seeking more.

  The heavy oak door that led into the house opened and a thickset man stuck his head out. “Good, you’ve arrived. Leave the horse. The stable boy will deal with him. Come.”

  As soon as Dell stepped into the house, he paused. The grandness was left outside, replaced by simple furnishings and little decoration. The wooden floor creaked underneath his feet as he walked into the living area.

  The man turned to him. “The ambassador will be here in a moment. Would you like some wine?”

  “N—” Dell cleared his throat. “No, thank you.”

  The man issued a short bow and retreated from the room.

  It wasn’t long before something thumped down the hall. Seconds later, Princess Camille appeared. Her serious face sho
wed no warm greeting as she sighed. “Edmund…” She said his name with no emotion. “He just can’t keep himself out of trouble. What about you, Dell? Are you prepared to get wrapped up in that man’s insane ideas?”

  “I—” What was he to say to that? He wanted no insanity in his life. Before Edmund, he was content working his fingers to the bone every day, getting the adrenaline rush of an occasional street fight, and then losing himself and his memories in his carvings. He touched the pocket sewn into his shirt where he always kept his carving knife and his latest wooden creation. In the past few weeks, he’d needed to be healed—again, pulled a knife on the crown prince, and spent time with the palace mistress while she was dressed as a boy—for whatever reason.

  “I’m not sure,” he finally admitted.

  Camille sat in a chair opposite him. “Well, get sure. Edmund doesn’t play games, boy. I’ve known him for years—hating him for most of them—and he never backs down from doing what he thinks is right.”

  There’d been little chance for Dell to do the right thing over the years. His brothers forced many poor situations on him. But his mother would have wanted him to stand up for something, to be more than a working grunt with no family.

  She’d want him to put his faith in something.

  He lifted his eyes to meet Camille’s dark gaze. “I want to do right too.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “I know what it is to feel as if you have no family. Only, in my case, I was wrong. I didn’t agree with my brother on a lot of things and betrayed him. But Alexandre forgave me. Do you know what I learned?”

  Dell shook his head.

  “Trust is the most valuable commodity in the six kingdoms. My brother married me off to remove me from the palace. He could have chosen an ogre of a man. Instead, he chose someone who was kind and loyal. My husband fought for my family with every breath. I didn’t love him, but I always had faith in him. It’s funny, Alex wanted to get rid of me and I ended up staying at the palace longer because of it.”

  Dell wasn’t sure what this story had to do with him, so he let her continue.

  “I regretted betraying my family—because it was the wrong thing to do for Gaule. But if it would have saved my kingdom, I’d do it again. No question.”

  Confusion creased his brow. “I don’t understand.”

  Edmund’s voice invaded their conversation. “Your family, Dell.” He walked into the room. “They’re going to overthrow the king and I need your help to stop them.”

  Dell rubbed his eyes. “I think I’ll take that wine now.”

  Edmund returned from the cook-room balancing three cups of red wine.

  Dell took his and gulped greedily before devolving into a fit of coughing as the wine hit his taste buds.

  Edmund chuckled.

  “I think I’m dying,” Dell wheezed. “What is that?”

  “Wine.” Camille hid a smirk behind her cup.

  When Edmund finished laughing, he explained. “In Bela and Gaule, we don’t cut our wine with water as you Madrans do.”

  “Why the bloody hell not? That was horrid.”

  “You get used to it.” Camille shrugged.

  Edmund stood. “I’ll get some of the olives I picked up at the market today. That should ease your Madran palate.”

  Dell lifted the cup to his lips again without thinking, but as soon as the wine hit his lips, he put it down and shook his head. “Doesn’t the great ambassador of Bela have servants to fetch his food?”

  Camille raised an eyebrow. “Do you know anything about him at all?”

  Did he? Dell tried to recall any facts about Edmund. He was from Bela and claimed their king and queen as his friends. He had some sort of magic. Beyond that, Dell knew nothing at all.

  Understanding lit in Camille’s eyes. “Edmund isn’t one to ask someone to do something he can accomplish himself. Your king supplies him with enough gold to hire a host of servants, but he lives as simply as he would in Bela.”

  “What about the man who greeted me when I arrived?”

  Camille lowered her gaze. “From what Edmund told me, Bemus lost everything in a fire—including his family. Edmund employs him merely as a means to give the man a home.”

  Edmund returned with a platter balancing on one hand. He glanced between Camille and Dell. Dell had always liked Edmund, but now he watched him with a new respect in his eyes.

  Maybe Edmund wasn’t as different as Dell thought.

  “What?” Edmund asked as he set the cheese and olive laden tray on the table. “Is Camille spinning tales about me again? She used to not like me very much.”

  Camille laughed. “Used to?”

  Edmund flashed her a grin before turning to Dell. All seriousness returned to his face.

  His family. Dell pictured his stepmother and brothers. Were they truly conspiring against the king? A king who gave them everything. Lady Tenyson was the tip of the spiral, giving her untold power. She had the king’s ear in all things. Rumors had even spread through the city that the princess’ ball was merely a formality and it was Ian Tenyson she was to wed.

  None of it made any sense.

  Then the truth hit him and it hurt worse than he’d expected. He met Edmund’s eyes. “This is why you befriended me. Why you’ve saved me time and again. Why I mean anything to you. I am a Tenyson. The only one you could get to.” Dell stood. “You asked me to put my loyalty into you, but you’ve never reciprocated. Agathe, Mari, Corban… It’s not me you want, only my name.”

  “Dell…” Edmund stepped toward him, but Dell held up a hand and Edmund froze.

  “No, don’t lie to me, Edmund. I’ve spent my life around the likes of you. You take and take with no thought to who might be hurt. My family will supposedly betray the king, and you want me to what, spy on them? Risk my life? Because I guarantee if I’m caught, my life means nothing to them.”

  “Your king needs you, Dell Tenyson.” Edmund’s low voice rumbled through the room. “I once told you my life changed when I had something to fight for. Yours can too.”

  “I don’t want to fight for the king!” The words were out before Dell could stop them. Heavy breath rattled through his chest. “Let the priests put me in a cell for treason, I don’t care, but King Rhodipus will never have my loyalty.”

  He’d questioned himself so much when he hadn’t known which side Edmund was on. Questioned his own loyalty to Madra, something he’d never thought of before. Could he support the king and the people both? Were they on the same side?

  He didn’t know.

  The only thing he knew was he couldn’t choose his stepmother or his brothers. If neither side held anything for him, what was his choice? There were only two sides, right? Either the king was overthrown, or he wasn’t.

  Edmund dropped his voice. “I’m not going to throw you in a cell, Dell. I’d never…” He pushed a breath past his teeth and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

  Something else made little sense. Dell glanced toward the door, wanting to make his escape, but he didn’t move. “You’re not Madran, Edmund. Your true loyalty is to a king across the sea. Why are you fighting for King Rhodipus? Why are you spending your gold on spies instead of luxuries like the other ambassadors? Your life should be easy here. I need to understand you. What you’re asking of me… not all of us have had the luxury of being able to put their faith in their king. I see what his wars do to this kingdom every single day. It’s in the gaunt faces of the children begging for food from equally hungry sailors. It’s in the war widows and the knowledge that many of this kingdom’s young men will never set foot on our shores again. I know Madra aided Bela in its war with Dracon… is that enough for you? Because it isn’t for me.”

  Throughout this exchange, Camille stayed silent, but she chose now to speak. “The boy’s words hold weight, Edmund. I know why my loyalty is to the Rhodipus name. For the good of Gaule, I must wed Estevan and help him keep the throne. But I know you… I know what it is you fight for. It’s never been ab
out the crown, but the man who wears it. Why have you chosen this one?”

  Edmund’s jaw clenched, and he collapsed into a chair. He drained his wine and set the cup down with a heavy clang. “King Rhodipus is cruel, ambitious, and vile, but this world needs stability. Madra must remain at peace if we are to continue rebuilding Bela. We need their trade.”

  “No.” Camille narrowed her eyes. “The Tenysons are merchants. They will ensure trade is not interrupted. There is something else.”

  Dell watched the fight leave Edmund’s eyes. His lips turned down as a sigh inflated his muscular chest.

  Dell crossed the room and put a hand on Edmund’s shoulder. He faced the same dilemma as Dell. Protect a king who only hurt the kingdom, or let the royal family fall.

  Edmund bent forward with his elbows on his knees. “I believe in tradition,” he started. “Not in the way Madrans do—with the priests protecting it. But real history and a future that furthers the kingdom’s culture.” He lifted his head to peer up at Dell. “Estevan Rhodipus is not his father. I’ve never been more sure of anything. The king doesn’t hold my loyalty as you’ve said, but his son has every bit of it. Stev is going to save this kingdom. He will save us all.”

  Chapter Eight

  Helena studied her eldest brother as he paced the length of the council chambers. His steps held the confidence only he possessed.

  “You accept?” He stopped in front of Camille. “You will follow through with the betrothal?”

  Camille nodded solemnly. “My kingdom needs this of me. They have assured me you are a man worthy of our alliance.”

  His shoulders relaxed, and he blew out a breath. “That’s good news. Very good indeed.” He peered into her eyes. “I promise you, Camille Durand, I will be a good husband to you. We will lead Madra into a golden age of prosperity and safety together.”

  The ambassador of Gaule stepped forward and clapped his hands together. He was a little man who’d had nothing to do with Camille since she set foot in Madra. But now he got his chance at being front and center, and he would not pass it up.