by M. Lynn
And today, they’d look into the faces of common people who never had enough to eat. Wealthy merchants would mingle with those working for them who barely survived.
And all the while, the already empty treasury would pay for the extravagance.
But she was Helena Rhodipus. She couldn’t voice any of that.
“I’ll try not to be,” she said instead.
Sophia’s face creased in understanding, when in reality, she didn’t understand at all.
A knock sounded on the door.
Sophia unlatched it and let the queen into the room.
Helena instantly relaxed under her mother’s comforting gaze.
“It’s quite early.” Her mother raised a brow. “Whoever had the idea to start the games at such an hour deserves an arrow right between the eyes.” She tapped her forehead.
“Mother!” Helena gasped, trying to muffle a laugh as Sophia shot them both disapproving looks.
The queen only shrugged. “I have yet to have my morning tea. I’m allowed to be a bit grumpy.”
“Your Majesty.” Sophia crossed her arms, staring at the queen as if she were naught but a child. “A better example must be set around children.”
“Oh yes.” Helena’s mother met the older woman’s gaze. “I like teaching my daughter—who is no child—to have humor in her life.” She gestured to the door. “Helena and I would appreciate some tea.”
Sophia shook her head and scuffled from the room.
Helena grinned. “You really should be nicer to her, mother.”
“My dear, that woman has been with us a long time and I don’t remember a single smile gracing her lips.” She crossed the room, stopping directly in front of Helena. “Happy name day, my sweet.” Putting a hand on each of Helena’s cheeks, her mother kissed the top of her head.
When she pulled back, there were tears in her hazel eyes.
“Mother, what is it?”
The queen shook her head, tight black curls bouncing with each movement. “I’m just a silly old woman. You’re my girl. It’s difficult to think of giving you to anyone else, even if you will still be in the palace.”
Helena took her mother’s hand. “Would you help me prepare today?”
She wiped her face. “That would be lovely.”
Sophia returned with a tea tray laden with fresh mugs, mint leaves, and hot water along with grapes and biscuits.
Once Helena had eaten and bathed, her mother helped her into the gown she’s chosen for her. Thankfully, there was no corset, but the wide yellow skirt still made it difficult to move. As her mother and Sophia pinned her hair in an intricate design of curls and loops, she ran her hands over the white lace of the bodice.
When they finished, it was time for the royal family to make their journey to the arena.
Sophia handed Helena an ivory mask with wide ribbons. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe it, but as she set it against her olive-tone skin, all magnificence faded, leaving only the heavy weight of confinement behind.
The boys were waiting at the carriage when they arrived. Quinn and Cole wore the red blazers of their officer’s uniforms with fitted linen pants. They would exchange those for their boxing gear when they joined in the games.
Kassander looked like a mini version of Stev who stood rigidly by the rear of the carriage. His black coat was emblazoned with the triangular family crest. He shifted his stance and Kass imitated him.
Helena shook her head, a smile coming to her lips.
It dropped when her father descended the steps without a word to any of his children. Cole glared and Helena reached for him. “Don’t let him see how he affects you.”
Cole relaxed and slid an arm around Helena’s shoulders. “You look beautiful. Happy name day.”
She stretched up to drop a kiss on his cheek and crowded into the royal carriage with the rest of the family.
Streams of people made their way to the arena and by the time the royal family arrived, it was already bustling with activity.
The horses stopped at the king’s private entrance where a troop of palace guards lined up and waited for them. Their father got out first and went ahead without a glance back at them. Stev lifted Kassander out while Quinn and Cole held hands up to Helena and her mother.
Together, they followed the king through the small gate. A dim tunnel led to a platform above the arena floor.
Helena froze when she stepped onto the platform. She’d never seen so many people. Her eyes scanned the rows of seats stretching out in a circle. They had divided the arena floor into separate areas for different events.
A horn blew, its sound reverberating around the stone structure. All activity ceased as the crowd lifted their eyes to the royal family.
The king stepped forward. “Welcome!”
Helena wondered if any besides those wealthy enough to be seated near the platform could hear him.
“Today is a great day for Madra,” he continued. “You have all gathered here to celebrate what we have accomplished as a kingdom. Through many hard battles, we have gained power throughout the six kingdoms.”
“Power means nothing without food,” someone yelled.
Helena craned her neck to find the man who’d shouted, but two royal guards obscured her view as they rushed down the aisle. It happened so quickly, she didn’t react. They pulled the man from his seat and dragged him toward a line of priests who stood ready to act.
The king went on as if none of it had happened. “Today we mark the eighteenth year of my daughter. May I present, in her first official appearance, princess Helena Rhodipus.”
The king stretched his arm back to gesture her forward, but her feet froze.
“Len,” Stev hissed. “Go.”
Her mother took her arm and led her into the light. “Wave, dear.”
Helena lifted a hand and waved to her people for the first time.
A cheer wound through the crowd as they caught their first glimpse of the hidden princess. What stories had been told of her? She wondered.
As they continued to cheer, confidence bloomed within her. She belonged to them. Not to her father. To the people.
And she wouldn’t let them down.
She cleared her throat. “Let the Madran games begin.”
Chapter Ten
Dell slipped through the arena entrance, lost among the crowd of commoners using this entrance. His family would have used the merchant’s gate, which allowed them to sit in proximity to the king.
He was glad for that because they’d forbidden him to come.
He walked straight for the boxing area, longing to get his chance at a fight. Madran tradition said the princess could choose any man common or merchant, to wed, but everyone knew that wasn’t true and they allowed only those of quality to put their name in the draw.
A man bumped into Dell, jostling him as he rushed forward.
Orlo.
Dell’s fists clenched, and he counted backward in his head. Fighting an unsanctioned fight in the king’s presence would mean imprisonment.
Orlo glanced over his shoulder as if seeing Dell for the first time. “Your minder not here to keep you out of trouble, boy?”
“You don’t want my kind of trouble, Orlo. How is Catjsa?”
The bigger man scowled. “I wouldn’t mind knocking you silly again. Name the place.”
Dell opened his mouth to speak, but Edmund entered his mind. Dammit, he wanted to accept the fight, to be able to hit something.
Why couldn’t he?
Because Edmund had it in his head to save a king who shouldn’t be saved?
Because he was so sure Estevan would be a better ruler than his father?
Dell clenched his teeth, wanting to yell, wanting to go back to being just an unwanted son working himself to death.
Back to the quiet life of a nobody.
Your family is going to overthrow the king, and I need your help.
He wished he could ignore those words. But despite his effort, somet
hing inside him trusted Edmund in a way he’d trusted no one before.
He realized he still hadn’t responded to the man who was now looming over him with a question in his eyes.
Dell sighed. “No, Orlo. I’m not going to fight you. Not today.”
Orlo grunted. “Kid finally got some sense.” He turned without another word and lumbered away.
Dell returned to watching the fight before him as the boxers lunged at each other. He started walking again toward the outer ring of the arena where the city’s shopkeepers had set up booths. Agathe sold pastries to those who could pay and gave them to those who couldn’t.
Dell pushed through the crowd of merchants, recognizable in their finer clothes.
Agathe’s haggard face transformed when she saw him, and a smile stretched her lips. “Dell. I didn’t think you’d be attending today.”
Dell shrugged. “I just have to avoid my brothers. My step-mother declined the invitation because she doesn’t want to surround herself with ‘common folk’.”
Agathe shook her head. “That woman…”
“Yeah. Listen, have you seen Edmund? I need to talk to him.”
“Is he with the royal family?” She pointed a long finger toward a raised platform.
Dell’s eyes passed over the king and narrowed. He didn’t know what to think of Prince Estevan. The queen sat in her wing-backed golden chair with all the grace they knew her for. Unlike the other royals, she made an effort to help city-folk by handing out food.
The twins were mostly unknowns. They hadn’t grown up in the public eye and now spent much of their time leading units of the army overseas. The young Prince Kassander had a grin on his face you couldn’t help but reflect back at him.
Sitting beside him was the reason they were all there. It wasn’t the first time Dell had seen the princess. He’d been shocked when she appeared with her mother at the docks. Even though he’d made a fool of himself, he’d needed to get a closer look at her, to see what was under those pretty masks.
Then, she’d laughed with him. Now, she looked… uncomfortable.
A frown tugged at the corners of her delicate painted lips. She was so close as the platform sat right near the boxing matches, yet her dark eyes said she wasn’t there at all.
The king leaned across his wife and said something to the princess. Her spine snapped straight, and she pasted a fake smile on her lips.
A boxing match ended with one contestant unconscious. As someone dragged him away, they drew a new name.
“Orlo Willard,” they called before pulling out another. “Ian Tenyson.”
Dell reared back as he tried not to grin. He shrank away from the boundary line to hide himself among the crowd so Ian didn’t see him.
Orlo paced the length of the square, waiting.
When Ian finally appeared, Dell sucked in a breath. A bandage held his arm to his chest. When had he been injured?
Ian turned to the crowd, sleazy charm oozing from every orifice. “I am honored to get my turn against this noble man.” He nodded toward Orlo. “As a member of the merchant class, I’m ashamed to say I must invoke an old rule. If a competitor cannot compete due to injury or illness, they can uphold their honor should they appoint someone to fight in their name.”
Reed appeared next to Dell. “Sorry, brother.”
“About what?” Dell glanced sideways at him.
Ian continued. “I choose a fighter with much skill who will uphold my family honor because it is his honor as well.”
No. Dell shook his head and took a step back. Reed grabbed his arm.
“My brother.” Ian’s stare burned into Dell. “Dell Tenyson.”
Reed shoved him across the boundary line. Dell stumbled before righting himself and glaring at Ian.
Ian smirked. “All of your city friends will know exactly who you are, brother.” He said the last word as if it was a curse. “Your fate now rests with ours, Dell. Maybe that will help you choose a side.”
Dell’s eyes widened. They knew of his meeting with Edmund.
And they’d just told all of Madra he was one of them.
They’d claimed him and entwined his future with theirs.
Crap.
Chapter Eleven
The announcers voice rose into the air and Helena lurched forward in her seat.
“Dell Tenyson will serve as Ian Tenyson’s second.”
No, she couldn’t have heard that right. Tenyson?
Dell was one of them? Disbelief coursed through her and she couldn’t take her eyes from the boxing ring.
The boy she’d found fighting in the center of the city, who she’d worried over, was the son of the tip of the spiral? She’d never have spent time with him if she’d known.
Something didn’t add up. His threadbare clothes and utter lack of manners… what was she missing?
Her eyes found Dell as they hustled him to the changing area. The lords who fought in that ring arrived at the games in fine clothing that spoke of wealth. They wouldn’t risk dirtying it in a fight.
But Dell… had Edmund known? Of course he did. Edmund seemed to know everything that happened in Madra. That would explain how he’d known Dell.
But what about Mari and Corban? What did two magic folk have to do with the son of such a powerful family?
Dell’s blonde hair shone as the sun beat down into the arena. He disappeared around the corner and Helena barely breathed until he returned.
Dell Tenyson.
The crowd cheered as he smiled up at them with an ease in his posture that hadn’t been present in the other lords. He’d changed into linen pants cut off at the knees. He lifted his arms into the air, his bare chest straining with each movement.
“Honey,” her mother said to her father. “Did you know there was a third Tenyson boy?”
Her father grunted. “Of course.” But his eyes held more truth than his words. It was a shock to him as well. One thing was certain, the king’s guards would be looking into the situation immediately when the fight ended.
Cole shifted in his seat, his eyes darting away from their father. He had to have known. He was closer to the Tenysons than his own parents.
“You knew Dell was Ian’s brother, didn’t you?” she asked.
Cole fixed her with a wary stare. “And how is it that my sister who has left the palace twice in her life knows a commoner like Dell?”
She refused to answer his question. “Apparently, Dell isn’t a commoner at all.”
Her brother snorted. “Of course he is. He doesn’t even sleep in the great house. Lady Tenyson puts him with their common workers in the barn loft. He’s the result of his father’s unfaithfulness. Nothing more.”
Helena stood to get a better look as the boxers faced each other. Instant recognition raced through her when she caught sight of the second man.
What had Edmund called him?
Orlo.
She shook her head, muttering to herself. “This isn’t good.” Dell was going to get himself killed.
Ian Tenyson stood next to the boundary line, a grin stretching his face. A shiver shot down her spine. Something wasn’t right with that man.
Why was Orlo even in the fight? He had a wife. He wasn’t competing to impress the royal family and hoping to win the princess—win her.
No, something else brought him here.
Ian.
It was the only explanation.
She had to get down there. Had to see him.
Turning to her father, she dropped her eyes. “Father, may I be allowed to go to the privy?”
He didn’t take his eyes from where a man launched a javelin on the opposite side of the arena. “Tell the guards at the door to escort you.”
“I would rather it be Quinn.” She fluttered her eyelashes and dropped her lips into a worried frown. “I feel much safer in his presence.”
“Sure, fine. Return promptly. The people need to see you enjoying the games.”
Quinn gave her a questioning look as
he collected his bag and rose to lead her through the door.
“Sir,” one of the guards started. “Wait here. I’ll have a few of my men take you where you need to go.”
Helena gave a slight shake of her head, her eyes imploring Quinn to help her.
Quinn put a congenial hand on the guard’s shoulder. “If I can’t keep my sister safe, no one can.”
The guard relaxed his stance. “Yes, sir.”
Quinn grabbed Helena’s elbow and pulled her away from the guards at the door. She stumbled, but he kept her from falling.
“Len Rhodipus.” He sighed as he pulled her around the corner into a quiet hall. No one was allowed in this part of the arena while the royal family sat on their platform. He released her and pushed a hand through his dark hair. “What is this about?”
Quinn was the only member of her family who might allow her to do as she wished. She’d picked him specifically. Stev wouldn’t even think of it and Cole would demand he go with her.
She rushed out a breath and met his eyes, unblinking. “I need to go down there.”
“Where?” The caution in his voice told her he knew exactly where.
“The arena floor.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m not asking you, Quinn. It’ll be easier with your help, but I’ve done it on my own before.”
“Len.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
“Please, Quinn. Today is my name day. By the end of the week, I’ll be tied to a man we all know won’t be of my choosing. This mask…” She touched the soft fabric on her face. “It’ll be gone but the cage will remain. You always speak to me of the freedom you experience when you leave the palace for other kingdoms. Let me feel that. Just once more. Please.”
“You can’t be gone long,” he finally said.
A grin spread across her face. “So, you’ll help me?”
“You have to promise you’ll come back as quickly as you can. I can buy you some time, but not much. I’ll tell father you fell ill and needed to collect yourself. He won’t question it.”