by M. Lynn
“Wonderful! This is fantastic. I am so pleased we could come to an agreement. Now, we must discuss the details. Gaule needs troops and soon.”
Helena’s father chose then to intervene. “We have already begun preparations. After the ball, my son, Quinn will lead the men into Gaule. We will put these rebellions to bed.”
“Fantastic.” The ambassador scanned the room. “Maybe we should speak in private, your Majesty.”
“Of course.” The king shot a look around the room, and each person present knew the meaning without explanation.
Stev walked with Helena back toward the residence.
“I’m proud of you, brother.” She smiled, her cheeks pushing up against the mask.
“For what?”
“For being the kind of prince another kingdom wants to tie themselves to. From what I’ve heard, Queen Catrine cares deeply for her children. Yet, she’s willing to give her only daughter to Madra for your wife.”
“Rulers do what they have to keep their kingdoms safe.”
Helena touched his arm. “You’re going to make a great king. I’m not sure I’ve told you that yet.”
“Why do you say that?”
The crack in his confidence stunned Helena, but she didn’t let it show. “I heard that a shipment of food meant for the palace, veered off the path and ended up in the Eastern part of the city. It quite upset father he couldn’t have fresh berries for his crème yesterday. You wouldn’t happen to know what caused the royal troops escorting the food to get lost on the way from the docks, would you?”
He shrugged. “Quinn was leading them. Ask him.”
She laughed. “I did. He told me the idea came from higher up the food chain. I highly doubt father authorized it.”
“It’s not up to me to decide what you believe.”
“Dammit, Stev.” She yanked on his arm, pulling him to a stop. “Everyone knows you have a brilliant mind. Why don’t you want them to know you have a heart as well? That you aren’t…”
“Aren’t what?”
Accusation shone in his eyes. She’d almost said he wasn’t like their father. Cold. Calculated. Uncaring.
But she’d never spoken those words out loud.
The only thing Stev had in common with their father was his great mind and his ambition. But he wouldn’t drain the treasuries and issue overbearing taxes for his determined ways. He knew enough not to follow the priesthood blindly.
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing, Stev. I just… I love you and one day you’re going to fix us.”
They’d reached the residence to find Cole and Quinn lounging on the red flowered couches. Kassander sprawled in front of a fireplace crackling with flames. Stev stopped at the edge of the room, uncertainty entering his gaze. It killed Helena that her brother didn’t feel comfortable with the rest of them.
“I have business to attend to.” Stev turned on his heel and marched back into the hall.
Kassander jumped to his feet and ran toward her. “Where is Stev going? He promised he’d take me for a ride today.”
“I’m sorry, Kass.” Helena gripped her brother’s shoulder, truly feeling bad for the kid. He idolized Stev. Stev loved the youngest Rhodipus, but he didn’t realize how much his sternness could cut sometimes.
Helena walked farther into the room. Cole still watched Stev’s retreat, his eyes flashing with irritation. He shook his head as if returning to himself and smiled up at her.
Quinn moved over to create space and Helena sank into the couch between the twins.
“Camille has agreed to the betrothal.”
Cole snorted in disgust. His feelings for Stev had always been plain.
Quinn wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That’s good news. Looks like it’s certain I’ll be headed to Gaule after the ball.”
Helena laced her fingers with his and leaned her head on Cole’s shoulder. Kass climbed up on Quinn’s other side. Helena used her free hand to remove her mask.
No one made her feel as safe, as loved, as her brothers. Nothing could destroy her bond with them. Not tension with her father or the distance that was between them when the twins were off with the army. Not even Kassander’s eventual role in the priesthood she hated so much.
Some small hope inside her thought maybe Stev would be the king to abolish the priesthood once and for all. Madra no longer needed their traditions and laws upheld. They didn’t need the priesthood’s harsh prison when the palace had unused dungeons. No future princess should have to wear a mask for her entire adolescence.
Unlike her father or his father before him, Stev had a heart. Helena might be the only person he showed it to, but she knew it was there.
Each of her brothers kept secrets from the entire world, but she saw them. Quinn hated army life. He talked as if it was a grand adventure with travel and excitement. But he wanted more than anything to just fall in love and live quietly.
Kassander portrayed all the bravado of a young boy, but his future in the priesthood terrified him.
Cole wanted their father’s approval despite his obvious disdain for the man. He wanted to be seen as his equal.
And Stev… well, Stev was good. Truly good in the way few people were.
Helena didn’t know what they saw in her. False acceptance of her circumstances? Bravery in the face of an impending marriage—possibly to Ian Tenyson?
In truth, she wanted an adventure outside Madra. To be free from this palace, this life as the hidden princess.
Camille’s appearance interrupted her thoughts. Sophia ushered the other princess into the room before returning to her duties.
Helena sat up, releasing her brothers. Camille watched the four of them longingly.
“Helena,” she started. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”
Helena glanced at Cole in uncertainty. What did this cold princess want with her? And a walk? Camille could barely hobble around with that cane of hers. Surely it would be better for her to have tea in the sitting room. Then every restraint Helena had faced in her life came to mind. People always told her what she couldn’t do because of tradition or because she was the princess. She refused to do that to Camille. If she thought a walk was best, who was Helena to tell her otherwise?
Cole nudged her from the couch, and it was only then she realized she hadn’t yet given her answer. She rose to her feet with a nod. “A walk would be nice.”
Quinn handed her the discarded mask, and she tied it to her face before following Camille from the room.
They walked in silence past the tapestries depicting Madran victories. They reached the door leading to the palace gardens where rows upon rows of flowers longed to bloom. A blast of chilly air rushed at them as they stepped onto the winding stone path that cut through the bushes and trees.
Helena rubbed her arms, wishing she’d thought to bring her cloak.
Camille, seemingly immune to the cold, continued forward, the clop of her cane the only sound between them.
“It’s beautiful here.” Camille’s voice was so small, Helena almost thought she’d imagined it. She knew exactly what the princess meant. Camille spent the prior day in the city with Edmund and compared to the crowded, odorous streets, everything within the palace walls was perfect.
Only, Helena preferred the activity and life those streets possessed. She only grunted in response to Camille.
Camille spoke again. “I’m sorry if I’ve been… rude.”
Helena stopped walking. “Madra may not be your home, but we invited you here to join us.” She shook her head. “I’ve been surrounded by my brothers my entire life, and I love them, but they’re… boys.”
Camille laughed suddenly. “I know exactly how you feel. I haven’t lived my life confined as you have, but sometimes it felt as though my brothers were my only companions.”
“Boys are…”
“Gross?” Camille finished.
A smile flashed across Helena’s face. “They do always seem to smell.”
“Sometimes I wondered if Alexandre and Tyson even bathed.” A fond smile settled on her lips. “Those are my brothers. We aren’t close anymore. Too much has happened. But we once were.”
“I can’t imagine ever losing my bond with Stev, Quinn, Cole, or Kass.”
“It’s… hard.” Camille glanced away.
“What’s it like?” Helena had to know. “To be marrying someone in a different kingdom?”
Camille shrugged. “I may have only accepted the betrothal today, but I never really had a choice.”
“I think it would be exciting. To venture somewhere new. But I’m second born. It’s my duty to marry a Madran who will strengthen our power here.”
“I’m glad you’ll be staying.” Camille began walking again. “I would like us to be friends.”
“That would be nice.”
“Tell me about Estevan.”
A grin spread across Helena’s face. “He likes to act as though he doesn’t care about anything, but he does. So much. Stev is the best. His one weakness is my father. The king demands things of his heir that I know Stev doesn’t agree with. He has to give the order to levy more taxes on the common folk and sometimes to reduce the import fees. Stev thinks it’s a mistake putting more money in merchant hands and less in the pockets of the poor.”
“So, the king controls him?”
“Except when it comes to me. Stev defies father to protect me from his wrath and also from the priests.”
“Priests?”
“The order is charged with enforcing traditions by making them law. They change the laws rapidly and imprison anyone who doesn’t comply until they can pay a rather large fee for their release.”
“That’s—”
“Horrible? Yes. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to board a ship to Bela and marry some man there.”
“The only Belaen man of consequence without a wife is Edmund.” She snickered.
Helena scrunched up her face. “I don’t care about that. I think I could be happy with a common man. As long as he was kind.”
Camille opened her mouth to respond, but as they passed a purple flowering tree and breathed in its lavender scent, a scuffling sound came from around the corner followed by a soft groan.
“Someone’s hurt.” Helena picked up speed.
“Uh, that’s not what it sounded like.” Camille smirked as she tried and failed to catch up.
Helena rounded the corner and when the bushes no longer concealed the two other people present, she froze, her face going hot.
She should have left. Should have walked away before anyone knew she was there. But she couldn’t move.
Camille finally caught up to her and a very unprincess-like snort left her. “Edmund!” she yelled. “First my brother and now my future husband?”
Edmund wrenched away from Stev who he’d been kissing moments before.
“Helena.” Stev’s eyes snapped to hers.
Helena shook her head and turned. Before she knew what was happening, she’d run the length of the gardens, seeking the safety of the palace.
“Len, wait!” Stev jogged after her and wrenched her arm back, forcing her to stop.
“Let me go, Stev.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
She twisted around so suddenly, he stepped back. “Talk to you about what? You’re the heir to the throne. It’s your duty to marry a foreign princess and have children. But you’re… you’re…”
All confidence had left her brother and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so unsure of himself.
“Len.” His voice held a tortured note. “You know as well as I do Madran tradition is flawed. It takes and takes, leaving nothing of us behind. I can’t…” He ran a hand through his dark hair.
Realization snapped into her. This was why he hadn’t told her father of her journeys out into the city without her mask. He understood how little their duty afforded them.
Stev needed her now just as she’d needed him. That’s what they’d always done: protected each other.
She reached out tentatively to take his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m shocked… but you’re my brother before you’re the heir. At least in my mind. I won’t tell anyone.”
His posture sagged with relief. “Thank you.”
“Do you love him?” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Estevan of all people. He’d always been so sure, so confident. What did she want him to say? No would mean he was risking everything for nothing. If the priests found out… But yes… That would mean all of this was real.
There was no law against a man loving another man in Madra. But there’d always been different rules for the royals than the commoners. A prince couldn’t love anyone he wanted.
Stev, who rarely showed any kind of emotion, stared at her with glassy eyes. “I do. So much.”
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long have you and Edmund…”
“Since right after they sent him here from Bela. At first, he was heartbroken because he’d left behind the man he’d thought he’d loved in Bela. I’d been having a hard time with some things father asked me to do. Edmund and I… we fixed each other.”
As her shock faded away, she felt closer to Stev than she ever had. She squeezed his hand. “Now we just have to decide what to do about your betrothed.”
He glanced over his shoulder to where Camille was berating Edmund. Her voice drifted toward them as they neared.
“Honestly Edmund,” she said. “I don’t know what to do with this.” She put her hands on her head and turned to face Stev. “And you… ugh!”
“Camille.” Helena observed her. She couldn’t force her to honor the betrothal when they all now knew it meant a loveless marriage. But weren’t most arranged marriages the same? “What do you want to do here?”
She groaned. “I need to sit down.” Hobbling across the garden, she dropped onto a limestone bench. After a moment, she lifted her head to find them all watching her.
Helena wouldn’t tell the king… but she didn’t know what Camille would do.
The Gaulean princess pushed out a breath. “I will still marry you, Estevan.” Her shoulders sagged under the weight of this new knowledge. “Gaule needs this from me. And Madra needs to never find out about you two. You must end this. Now.” She pierced Edmund with one final look before stalking toward the door and disappearing from view.
Silence descended as Helena glanced from Stev to Edmund and back again. “She’s not wrong. I’m sorry, but you have to know this can’t continue. If it had been father who found you…” She tugged her dark hair over one shoulder to fiddle with the ends. “I’m scared, Stev.”
Estevan didn’t move, but Edmund reached for her and pulled her into a hug. “It will be okay, Len.”
Helena pressed her face into his firm chest as he stroked her hair. “This is Madra.” Her mask scratched against her face, bringing it to the forefront of her mind. A door opened behind them and a pair of priests in their sweeping white robes invaded the privacy of the garden. Tears hung in Helena’s lashes, refusing to fall. “Nothing is ever okay.”
Chapter Nine
No Madran princess ever forgot their eighteenth name day.
It meant they were one step closer to being rid of the mask for good.
Celebrations would stretch on for an entire week, beginning with the Madran games and cumulating in the ball where the mask would be removed once and for all.
Helena woke before the sun as anticipation twisted her gut. Today, she’d be allowed to be among the people. Not as the boy she’d pretended to be on her trips into the city, but as herself.
The jaunt to the docks to greet Camille had been her first journey outside the palace walls since she was a child—at least sanctioned journey. But she’d gone from palace steps to carriage to docks before returning to the carriage. There’d been no time to soak in the energy of the Madran people.
She sat up in her carved
mahogany bed, lifting her eyes to the silk canopy overhead. They had given her everything. Her life lacked no luxuries.
Why had she never been happy within these walls?
Maybe for the same reason Stev hadn’t been. Under the watchful eyes of their father, they could never let their desires shine through.
The shock of seeing Stev and Edmund together had worn off, replaced by guilt. How had she not seen it before?
Had she known her brother at all?
The answer to that was simple. No one knew Stev Rhodipus. He made sure of it. She hugged her arms across her chest, hoping he at least let Edmund see who he truly was.
And who he wasn’t.
Estevan Rhodipus was not their father and he never would be.
Sometimes Helena thought she was the only one who saw that.
Twisting her tangled hair over one shoulder, she slid from the bed and padded to the window. Pushing open the glass panes, she sucked in a deep breath of the chilly morning air.
What was this week going to bring for her?
Was it all a formality when her father could force her into a marriage with Ian Tenyson?
The silent courtyard below her window was awash in silver moonlight as she leaned out to scan her eyes across the palace grounds. In the distance, beyond the palace walls, the city would wake soon and prepare.
The Madran games, held every four years, were sacred. All those who were able, crowded into the circular arena at the edge of the city to watch events such as boxing matches, javelin throwing, and discus.
Any man who wanted to be considered a suitor for the princess’ hand competed, hoping to show their abilities.
On the horizon, the sun battled with the moon, day wanting dominance over night.
Helena shut the window just as the door to the room connected to hers opened. Sophia emerged and froze.
“Princess, I was expecting to have to wake you this morning.”
Helena offered a small smile. “Just basking in the last moments of the day’s peace.”
The old woman’s face softened. “Do not be afraid, child.”
How did Helena explain it wasn’t fear coursing through her this morning, but something else entirely? Acceptance. Resignation. She’d marry a Madran man and live within the palace for the rest of her days. Estevan would wed Camille and one day become king. Madra would struggle along as a warring kingdom. Nothing was going to change.