by M. Lynn
And Dell couldn’t do a thing when he was stuck in the bloody cellar.
He yelled, knowing full well no one would hear him. He’d been unsure which side was truly noble in this fight, but now he had no confusion.
His family had to be stopped.
He launched himself up the steps and smashed his fists into the door, feeling slightly less useless for at least trying.
Desperation raced through his mind. Was it too late to stop the rebellion? Had everything already been set into motion?
He hit the cracked wood until blood ran between his knuckles and pain reverberated up his arms.
He moved down the stairs and sat with his back leaning against the deadly barrels. His brother had taken his whittling knife, the one thing that always kept him from losing his mind.
He patted the pocket where it usually lay.
The one thing Ian hadn’t taken was the half-carved piece of wood that made up his newest project. He fingered the rough edges, not yet sanded smooth.
Even after Edmund told him he could never again see Len, he started this… for her.
It was going to be the most perfect thing he’d ever made. A pair of beautiful shoes, meant for dancing, but also running away.
With these shoes, he’d wanted to tell Len she could be anyone she wanted to be. She could run away from the palace. She could run toward it. Her life was her own. The only thing that decided her fate was the direction she pointed her shoes in.
Freedom. Such a simple thought, yet so complicated for them both.
The shoes weren’t complete. He’d only carved the shape of one and had yet to add any embellishments to give it the beauty Len deserved.
Who was he kidding? She’d probably never receive it. He was now a prisoner more than ever before. Would they ever let him go?
And Len… if he couldn’t save her, she’d have her fate rest with that of the royal family’s and he didn’t like their odds.
He tucked the half-carved wood back into his pocket where it lay heavy against his heart, an idea as hopeless as his current state.
With a sigh, he rested his head back against the rounded surface of the barrel and let his eyes slide shut—not out of exhaustion, but only the weariness of failure.
A thud sounded against the door and his eyes snapped open.
The lock rattled, the sound of scraping metal ringing loud in his ears, filling his mind with one thought. Escape.
Were his brothers already returned from the ball? How long had it been? They’d come back to torture him with their cruelty. Or had they come to retrieve their powder?
The door swung open and a wide-shouldered man peered in, the moonlight casting him in a glow. Tattoos snaked up his thick neck, stopping below a square jaw.
His lips set in a grim line.
Dell waited, refusing to shift his eyes away from the man. If this was Ian’s punishment, he’d take it. And then one day, he’d get his revenge.
“Dell Tenyson?” the man asked, his voice a low rumble.
“Let’s get this over with.” Dell narrowed his eyes. “Do what you came here to do.”
The man descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of Dell. His tattoos were more visible now, marking him as mercenary. Even his brother wouldn’t seek a mercenary. If they didn’t take the job you offered, they were notorious for the harsh treatment they’d give those who sought them in the mountains.
Ian may plan treason against the king, but that couldn’t be mistaken for bravery. He was a true weasel.
Another face appeared at the door above, and it took Dell a moment before relief crashed into him.
“Mari?” he asked, flicking his eyes from her to the imposing man in front of him.
“Dell, dear.” She shook her head. “Look at the trouble you’ve gotten yourself in now. Come on now… we have to go.”
Dell scanned the cellar with its exploding contraband one last time before following the mercenary up the steps.
Corban waited for them outside. He didn’t say a word as he immediately took Dell’s hand.
Warmth flooded Dell and every ache that had been present since his fight at the Madran games dulled until they no longer existed at all.
Mari nodded. “Now that we have that taken care of, Dell, this is Toren. Edmund has him protecting us.” She gestured to the big man.
He shouldn’t have been surprised Edmund had mercenaries in his employ. “Why do you need protection? Has something happened to you?”
“Edmund is worried we will be sought out should there be a shift in power here in Madra. We are to take a ship to Bela. And you are to join us.”
Dell shook his head. “I can’t leave.”
“Dell, Madra is no longer safe for you. Edmund has learned some concrete things about your family, proving what he suspected to be right.”
Who’d told him? Dell only just heard everything Edmund had wanted to know. He froze. “Who told Edmund I was locked up?”
“I don’t know, but we must be gone from here now.”
“Mari.” Dell grabbed her wrist. “I can’t. You don’t understand. It’s so much worse than Edmund feared. There are barrels of explosive powder down there.” He pointed to the cellar. “Enough to bring down the sector of the city around the palace walls.”
She exchanged an alarmed look with Toren. “Edmund must be told.”
“I have to get to that ball.”
Mari considered him. “If you appear at the ball looking like yourself, your brother will do more than lock you in the cellar. No, we can’t have Dell Tenyson show up at the palace.”
“I don’t have a choice, Mari.”
“I know you don’t. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and put a hand on Corban’s shoulder to lead him across the soggy ground to the barn. A pool of standing water blocked the barn doors, but Mari crashed through it, not caring about soaking her shoes. Toren pulled open the barn door.
The cow mooed as soon as they were all through. Horse-Ian’s stall stood empty, as he’d been used along with another horse to pull the Tenyson’s carriage.
The mules and goats roused themselves, sticking their heads over the metal bars of their pen.
Mari scanned the space, taking in every unimportant detail before rounding on Dell. “First, if you are to be comfortable, you need dry clothes. It doesn’t matter what you put on. We’ll wait.”
Dell, not wanting to argue when she seemed as if she had a plan, walked to his bunk and exchanged his still-damp clothing for dry wool trousers and a linen shirt.
Mari nodded in approval. “You’re not going to feel anything,” she promised.
She lifted her hand and curled her fingers. Dell would never get used to her magic. She’d used it on him before, and he was always suspicious if it worked as well as she claimed it did.
As he glanced down at his clothing, he didn’t notice a difference.
Toren’s eyes widened.
“What? What do I look like?” Dell asked.
Corban circled him, his eyes appraising.
Mari was the one who answered. “Dark hair slicked back into a perfectly groomed tail. A handsome, yet open face with wide amber eyes and a strong jaw. Clothing fit for a prince. Blue pants, a white ruffled shirt, and a pale blue jacket. Shoes shined to perfection.” She smiled. “One of my better creations, I’d say.” She turned toward the door. “Come.”
At the side of the barn sat a rusty mule cart. The air around the cart grew hazy, shimmering as if tiny waves rippled the air.
When it cleared once again, the cart had been replaced by a large white carriage with gold rimming the door. For as many times as Dell had been the subject of Mari’s magic, he’d never witnessed his own perception changing.
Taron led the two mules from the barn. Mari faced them and they transformed into massive black steeds with shining coats and jewel-encrusted bridles.
Mari smiled in satisfaction as Dell reeled back. “No one at the ball will know who you are, Dell. Being a mystery
carries its own set of dangers. My magic will only last for about two hours. You must get in, inform Edmund of everything you’ve seen, and then get to the ship in slip fourteen. We leave for Bela on the morning tide.”
Dell reached forward to stroke the soft nose of the massive beast, the weight of what he was being asked to do sat heavily on his mind. There’d been a time when the only life he expected for himself was that of a simple farmer in his mountain village.
But everything changed in an instant, and now he found himself with the fate of a kingdom on his shoulders.
Dell. Not a Tenyson by any other meaning than birth. A lowborn kid.
Now he had to save a king who didn’t deserve to be saved in order to protect the ones who did.
He nodded slowly and released a breath. “I’ll be there, Mari.”
Chapter Eighteen
Large torches lined the entryway, past the wide-open gates. No one in Madra would be turned away tonight. Even the commoners were allowed entry into the ball. Some would arrive for the sheer novelty of the event. Others had the delusion in their mind they had a chance to be chosen as the princess’ husband.
Dell knew how it truly worked. The king would choose someone whose power enlarged his own.
Ian.
He was the best choice to make a connection between king and the merchant council. Dell knew it. Everyone knew it.
But Ian would be the end of the Rhodipus line.
Dell’s carriage rumbled to a stop, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. His eyes flicked down over his plain clothes and he tried to see what they would see. To him, he still looked like Dell—the Tenyson boy who was kept in the stables as if he were an animal himself.
His breath quickened as the door opened and a white-gloved man in doublet and tails bowed. “Welcome to the palace, my lord.”
Dell hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the opulence of his carriage. They didn’t know who he was, but they could see he was important.
A foreign lord? Maybe they’d assumed he came from Gaule or Cana to attend the grand event. He lifted his chin as he’d seen his brother do a million times before. “Are you going to help me out of this carriage or stand there gawking?” His voice sounded false to his ears, but the servant snapped to attention and extended his hand.
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Dell took the hand and descended the steps. Another carriage pulled up behind his, and he spared it barely a glance.
The grounds swarmed with servants and guards. As he looked into the man’s face, it struck him how young he was. He must have been even younger than Dell himself.
Dell released him and the boy’s cheeks flushed. “Sir, do you need an escort into the ball?”
Dell scoffed. “Young man, I have been to this palace more times than you’ve celebrated your birth.”
It was a bold lie. Dell would have benefited from the escort, but he passed the servant without another glance as Toren—disguised as the carriage driver—snapped the reins and left to join the lines of others.
A steady stream of people, nobles and commoners alike, made their way through the palace and Dell followed the flow.
The ball had a strict dress code, so only commoners who could afford the levee dress coats were present. Shop keepers. Ship captains. Wine makers.
Dell, even as the son of a merchant, felt out of place.
Massive carved oak doors stood open, revealing the elegant ballroom packed from end to end. In the center, couples glided across the floor, dancing to the lively orchestra music.
The crowd parted as the princess took her place among them, standing opposite Ian. Dell had only ever seen her up close once when they met at the docks, but she’d barely spoken.
A jeweled mask covered everything she must have been feeling as every eye followed her. Ian pulled her close and her lips, the only visible part of her face, tugged down.
He leaned in to whisper into her ear, and her jaw clenched.
Dell couldn’t take his eyes from them even as a servant walked by carrying a tray of wine glasses.
“My lord.”
The words echoed vaguely in his mind.
“My lord.” The servant stopped in front of him, her eyes tilting with concern. “Are you okay, my lord?”
She’d been talking to him? The title of lord didn’t sit well with him. But what could he say? I am no lord. His cover would be blown. Mari’s magic made them all see something new, but he still felt like himself.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and took a glass from her tray. “I’m fine.” He drained the wine without coming up for air and handed the empty cup to her.
He found Edmund standing near the far wall with Reed by his side. Without another glance at the servant who still stood in front of him, he marched across the room, barely seeing those who had to move out of his way.
Edmund’s brow furrowed in confusion as Dell stopped right in front of him. “I need to speak with you,” Dell said, his eyes flicking to his brother who now watched him curiously.
“I’m sorry.” Edmund leaned forward to look more closely. “Do I know you?”
“Edmund.” Dell blew out a frustrated breath. “You told me to put my faith in you. That having something to fight for changed your life. I now know what you meant.”
Edmund’s eyes widened in understanding. “Excuse me, Reed. Lord… Isaacs is an old friend I did not recognize at first. I must speak with him.”
“Of course.” Reed glanced from Edmund to Dell and back again. “Remember what we’ve spoken of.”
“I will.”
Reed nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
All sound abruptly ceased and Dell jumped. “Dammit, Edmund, I will never get used to that.”
Edmund’s voice was low as he spoke. “I sent Mari and Taron to get you out of Madra. When Reed told me what you’d overheard…” He shook his head. “We’re lucky Ian didn’t kill you outright.”
“Since when is Reed on our side?”
“Since he learned who Ian is working with inside the palace.”
“Who is it?” Dell asked.
“He hasn’t told me yet.” Edmund glanced over his shoulder at the crowd whose sounds couldn’t reach them while his magic was at play. “Reed doesn’t trust me. But he didn’t want Ian to kill you.”
Dell wished it didn’t surprise him that someone in his family wanted him to live.
Edmund reached out to grip Dell’s arm tightly. “Mari’s magic is dangerous, Dell. It fades and you won’t be able to feel it happening. You shouldn’t have come.”
“I know.”
“We have people in place for when the rebellion begins. There is nothing more you can do Dell. It’s because of you Reed told us our most crucial piece of information. There is someone very close to the royal family making a power play. Now it’s time to consider your own safety.”
“I can’t!” The words burst out of him. He clamped his lips shut and looked to the people on the nearby dance floor. They still couldn’t hear him. “Edmund, listen to me. My brother… they have half a dozen barrels of explosive powder.”
Edmund’s grip on his arm tightened. “Are you sure?”
“I know what it looks like, Edmund. Where would they get it?”
“The mines of Dracon.” He sighed and pried his hand free of Dell’s arm.
“That’s why whoever is planning this needed my brothers. There’s no way that much explosive powder could get through the ports of Bela or Gaule. Tenyson ships must have been going into Dracon in secret.”
Edmund’s eyes scanned the room. “I need to go deal with this, Dell. We must prepare. This changes nothing for you. If you’re found in Madra by someone connected to this rebellion, they’ll kill you. Get to the ship. I’m going to send Camille to you once the ball ends and I can get her out of the palace. When you arrive in Bela, tell them you must speak with the king or queen. They will protect you should Madra be taken over.”
“What about you? Edmun
d, this isn’t even your kingdom. You need to come with me.”
Edmund shook his head, his eyes drifting to the table where the crown prince sat masked beside his future bride. “There are reasons…” He met Dell’s eyes. “I grew up in Gaule. Bela is my home. But my heart resides here, and I will protect him with everything I have.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just revealed.
Dell took a step back. It all made sense now. Why Edmund would fight for a king such as the one they had. Why he had so much faith in the prince.
Edmund was in love with Estevan Rhodipus.
And that love was going to kill him because they couldn’t win. Not against a mostly unknown enemy who had such tools at their disposal. Not when the king they protected wasn’t beloved by the people. Who would fight for him?
Edmund would fight for Stev.
Dell was leaving.
They’d already lost.
The princess drifted by, still in the arms of Ian. Everything about her was stiff, but there was something so familiar in the way she held her head high as if nothing in the world could hurt her. Not Ian. Not the mask she had to wear.
“You need to go now, Dell.” Edmund gripped his shoulder. “Before the magic wears off.”
“Release your magic, Edmund. There’s music playing.” He shrugged off Edmund’s hand. “I’ll leave, but not until I save a princess from a beast.”
Chatter crashed in at them, rising above the music, assaulting his every sense as Edmund’s magic faded away.
“Dell.” One warning. That was all Edmund gave him before Dell made his way toward his brother, holding a beauty captive.
He had to ruin one final thing for Ian. If tomorrow saw the end of this family’s rule, this girl wouldn’t spend another minute trapped in Ian’s embrace.
The music stopped and dancers turned to clap. Dell stepped up to the princess’ side and bowed. “Princess,” he said smoothly, a smile playing on his lips. “Would you do the honor of giving me the next dance?”
Ian growled. “I don’t even know who you are, but the princess and I are not finished.” He clamped a hand on the princess’ bare shoulder.
Dell lifted Ian’s hand off the girl who still hadn’t spoken. “I believe she can choose a partner for herself.”