Glass Kingdom

by M. Lynn

  A smile formed on her lips, and she hid it behind a cough before extending one delicate gloved hand to Dell.

  He took it and led her away from his seething brother.

  The Dell of weeks ago never would have imagined sharing a dance with the mysterious princess who was kept behind the high palace walls. Yet there he was, sliding his hand around her waist.

  She still hadn’t said a word, but he smiled kindly at her. What had Edmund called him? “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m Andrew Isaacs.”

  She gazed up at him, her eyes two deep green orbs in the holes of the mask. What did she look like below that lacy fabric? He imagined she’d take his breath away.

  As he stared into her entrancing eyes, something familiar struck him. The music began, and he shook it off as the dance began. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced, but the moves his mother taught him as a boy came back naturally.

  The princess coughed lightly, clearing her throat. “Thank you.”

  Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “For what, Princess?”

  She didn’t respond.

  He couldn’t help the next question that left his mouth. “What did Ian say to you?”

  She widened her eyes in surprise but only gave a slight shake of her head.

  Dell pulled her closer. “I saw the way you tensed when he spoke to you.”

  “How do you know it was because of him and not the dancing?”

  He flattened his fingers against her spine, forgetting for a moment just who she was. He may not understand a lot of things, but women always made sense to him. It had gotten him into more trouble than he could remember.

  He leaned close, speaking into her ear. “Because when I move, you follow. No fight. No tension. Your body is relaxed in my hands. You don’t know me, Princess. Do I make you feel safe?”

  A beat of silence passed between them before soft peals of laughter vibrated from her throat.

  He knew that sound.

  But it wasn’t until she spoke again it struck him. “Do those lines work with the ladies of the city, my lord?”

  Len.

  He stumbled away from her. His Len… the girl he’d do anything to see again… she was the princess of Madra.

  How did he not see it? The boy’s clothing. Escaping the palace.

  Helena. Princess of Madra.

  My heart resides here and I will protect him with everything I have.

  He knew why Edmund was doing it now. For them. Had he known? Of course he did. Len wasn’t the prince’s mistress. She was his sister. And she was in danger.

  “Lord Isaacs,” she asked, her lips tilting down. “Is everything okay?”

  He glanced toward the door where he knew he should go at that very moment. There was a ship waiting for him. A way to safety. To a new life.

  His eyes returned to the princess who looked to him with such innocence. Such beauty. He was one of the few people who knew what lay beneath the mask. Was he the only one who knew what lay inside her chest?

  Or had Len been a lie?

  Who was the girl in front of him?

  He reached out, trailing a finger over the side of her mask.

  “Would you like to walk in the gardens?” she asked. “I think I need a bit of air.”

  The gardens were in the opposite direction of the palace gates. Farther from his freedom.

  He nodded, unable to stop himself. “Yes, Princess. Yes.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ian’s gaze burned into Helena’s back as she slid her arm into the unknown noble’s beside her. She couldn’t claim to know many of the wealthy people of Madra since she spent her life cooped up in the palace. But there was something about him… His smile oozed with charm and with his handsome face, she was sure he had the ladies of Madra chasing after him.

  His tailcoat with gold buttons spoke of wealth.

  But unlike Ian Tenyson, his eyes were not those of a predator. They held something… kinder.

  She spied her father speaking to a few of his advisors, paying no attention to her. Stev’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t rise. He’d have a few guards trail them in the gardens, no doubt.

  As soon as she stepped through the door to the gardens, the cool night air struck her and she smiled. Out here, there wasn’t an entire host of nobles and commoners expecting bits of her time. There weren’t expectations or traditions.

  She wished she could strip the mask from her face.

  But she had to remember she didn’t walk alone.

  A shiver raced down her spine.

  “Are you cold?” Lord Isaacs asked.

  She shook her head, not wanting to return to the ball. Slipping her arm from his, she continued down the path, wishing she could take off the shoes they’d forced her into and run.

  She’d run away from everything. Just as she had before… with Dell. Her mind drifted to him, wondering what he was doing. Had he forgotten about her?

  Her foot struck a rock on the trail and she cursed as a crack rent the air.

  “What was that?” Lord Isaacs asked.

  Helena sighed and lifted the hem of her dress. “They made me wear slippers made of glass.” She slipped off her shoes and picked them up to examine the broken toe. “Can you believe it? Glass? As if that isn’t the stupidest idea you’ve ever heard.”

  Lord Isaacs leaned forward to look at the shoe, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He laughed. “Maybe they wanted to make sure you couldn’t run away.”

  She’d had the same thought. A laugh bubbled out of her. “I don’t know, but they’d be good if I needed to incapacitate a certain merchant’s son.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my, I can’t believe I just said that.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “You’re going to return home and tell everyone of your walk with the completely insane princess who is a danger to all men and their uh… sensitive parts.” She stepped back. “Oh wow… shut up, Helena.”

  Lord Isaac grinned as if she was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen. “Not only that, but she apparently talks to herself.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “I never speak like this. Normally, no one ever knows what I’m thinking. I don’t know why everything is spilling out like some weird kind of word vomit—Oh my, Helena, don’t say vomit. That is not attractive.” She lifted her face. “Not like you even know if I’m attractive—or care—I’m a princess. I don’t have to be pretty.” She turned away from him. “I’m going to go crawl in a hole now.”

  Lord Isaacs grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “It doesn’t matter what’s underneath the mask.”

  She turned to face him, her brows drawing together.

  He lifted a finger to run along the bottom of her mask and she sucked in a breath.

  “And not because you’re a princess.” He stepped closer to her.

  She barely knew this man, but his words paralyzed her. She released a soft breath. “Then why?” She met his swirling gaze, trying to see what was behind the intense eyes. “What do you see?”

  “Everything,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

  His lips crashed into hers and he pulled her against his lithe frame. She returned his kiss, no longer caring she’d only just met the man. Something about him spoke to her, told her to trust him. And she felt seen for the first time in her life.

  Not the princess.

  Not the girl dressing in her brother’s clothes.

  Her.

  Helena.

  She pulled away, breathing heavily, and rested her forehead against his. “Who are you, Andrew Isaacs?”

  He pushed her back and seemed to gather himself. “I’m someone who shouldn’t be here.”

  She didn’t take her eyes from his and as a flicker of light from the nearby torch passed over them, she would have sworn they shifted, becoming rounder and losing the angular tilt.

  She knew those eyes but from where?

  He took a step back from her scrutinizing gaze.


  “What’s happening?” she asked. “Your eyes… they changed.”

  He snapped his head up. “I have to go.” He turned to stalk across the garden.

  “Wait.” She ran after him, her short legs struggling to catch up with his long strides.

  “I can’t be here.” He sped up, yanking open the door as they passed the guards Stev had sent after them.

  The commotion at the door caught the attention of more than a few onlookers, but Lord Isaacs didn’t pause.

  “Helena,” her father scolded, appearing at her side as she marched through the crowd. “Why on earth are you carrying your shoes?”

  “They’re glass, father,” she said, shoving the shoes into his chest. “Figure it out.”

  Lord Isaacs reached the hall, and she chased after him, not catching up until he stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the carriages.

  “Please.” She hated the pleading sound of her voice. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Lord Isaacs finally turned to her, but his dark hair had turned into a light brown and grew lighter still. “They’re coming for you, Princess. Keep yourself safe. Trust only Edmund.”

  What did he know of Edmund?

  “Who are you?” she asked. “Are you threatening me?”

  How had she gone so wrong in trusting his sweet smile?

  “No.” He ran a hand through his now blonde hair. “God, no. If something happened to you…” He glanced to where his carriage appeared, pulled by a horse she would have sworn was shrinking as she watched it.

  He reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something free before pressing it into her hand.

  “I wish I could give you the freedom you wanted, Len. But I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you. I promise you that.” As if losing a battle within himself, he lurched forward, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her confused frown.

  He pulled away too soon, sparing her one final glance before sprinting down the stairs and jumping into the carriage. The driver snapped the reins as hard as he could and dust kicked up around the wheels as he left her stunned on the step.

  She touched her lips with her free hand and opened the fingers of her other. A rough carving of a wooden shoe sat in her palm, half-finished.

  “Dell,” she breathed.

  There was no other explanation. She didn’t understand why he’d been there or how he hadn’t looked like himself, but his warning rang clear in her mind.

  I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you. I promise you that.

  What did she need protected from?

  Only trust Edmund. She turned on her heel. The Belaen ambassador had a lot of explaining to do, beginning with—who was Dell Tenyson and what did he have to do with impending trouble in Madra?

  Chapter Twenty

  The carriage shook and quivered around Dell as it raced through the streets. The roof shimmered, winking in and out of view before disappearing entirely. The walls shrank, retracting until they were nothing more than cracked wooden beams rising knee-height.

  Dell shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening as his heart hammered in his chest.

  “The carriage…”

  They slowed to a stop as Taron pulled into an empty alleyway.

  “It disappeared,” Dell stammered.

  Taron twisted around on the bench he sat on to look at Dell. “It was never there to begin with.” He dropped the reins and jumped from the bench, landing beside the mule who’d appeared as a giant horse only moments before.

  How did one get used to magic?

  Most people in Madra lived their entire lives never witnessing the power. Maybe it was easier that way. Seeing what magic-folk could do… it changed everything.

  Dell climbed from the bed of the rickety mule cart. It was nothing more than rotting wood and rusting wheels now.

  He brushed a hand over his face. “Do I look like myself?”

  A shadow appeared at the end of the alley.

  Taron grunted. “Everything now appears as it should. Time to go. You won’t be safe until you are aboard the ship. We leave in a few hours, once Edmund brings the Gaulean princess to us.”

  Dell took a step back, Helena’s face firmly in his mind. But it wasn’t the masked face of the princess. He saw Len, the woman who’d befriended him, cared for him. The girl with dark hair, wild from tangling in the ocean breeze, whose frame disappeared among her brother’s clothes.

  That girl was no princess.

  But Len wasn’t real. Helena was.

  And he still couldn’t leave her.

  “I’m not coming with you.” He lifted his eyes to regard the big man stubbornly.

  “Don’t be a fool, boy. The only thing left for you in Madra is death.”

  Dell advanced on him. “And what of the royal family? Is death the only thing here for them as well?”

  “That is no longer your concern. Edmund has left orders to bring you with us.”

  “It’s a good thing Edmund is not my keeper then, isn’t it?” He narrowed his eyes. “I won’t leave when they’re in danger. When she’s…”

  Understanding dawned in Taron’s eyes. “You fight for someone other than yourself?”

  “I do.”

  “That is a… foreign concept to mercenaries, but it is what we all wish for. Something to bring us hope. Mari is going to have my head, but I will not force you to come with us, Dell Tenyson.” He turned and grabbed the mule’s harness, unlatching him from the cart. “I do not think you will survive this, but I wish you luck.”

  He met Dell’s gaze over his shoulder and nodded once before pulling the mule forward and leading him away.

  Now what? Where could he go? The revealing ceremony wasn’t until the next afternoon and he only hoped nothing happened before then.

  Dell turned on his heel and sprinted back into the street. His tired legs took him through the city where shopkeepers were returning home for the night. He kept to the shadows of the buildings, unsure of who might be working with his family.

  He passed the road leading to the docks as a carriage he’d recognize anywhere rumbled by, its wheels bouncing on the uneven road.

  Why was his family’s carriage out in the streets when he doubted his brothers had left the ball?

  He ducked out of view to watch it go by, his heart in his throat. He’d never grown to love his brothers, but as a boy, he’d sought their acceptance, never receiving it. Disapproval and disappointment was all he’d known. He hadn’t understood.

  Until now.

  Only one thing mattered to his brothers. It wasn’t family or even wealth as he’d once thought. They cared for no one. But power… they would always want more.

  When Dell was brought to them, a bastard mountain boy with no city experience, it had eaten away a bit of their power.

  They could let their emotions control them. Dell was proof of their father’s weakness.

  And he was going to be the downfall of their legacy.

  He slipped out of the alcove he’d hidden in and ran until he reached the row of houses belonging to foreign ambassadors.

  Edmund’s back gate was unlatched, and Dell wondered if there was a purpose to that. How many people came and went from the Belaen man’s house in secret? How far into this rebellion was he? He had many spies and loyal men under his control. And Dell now knew why. He understood Edmund on a level he never had before.

  Edmund had something—someone—to fight for.

  He wrapped his knuckles against the wood of the back door, hoping Edmund’s one servant was home and would remember him.

  The door opened, and a hand shot out, pulling him inside before slamming the door.

  The man who served Edmund with as much loyalty as Dell, pushed him up against the wall. “Why have you come?” The man’s wild eyes roamed Dell’s face until recognition set in and his grip loosened.

  “I want to help,” Dell wheezed. “I didn’t know where else
to go.”

  The man released Dell and pushed out a breath. “I’m sorry, master Tenyson. I’m a bit on edge tonight.”

  “We all are. Do you know when Edmund will return?”

  He threaded a hand through his hair. “Soon. There are still preparations to be made. You may wait for him.”

  Dell nodded and walked to the couch before collapsing onto it in exhaustion. He needed to talk to Edmund. To find out what his plan was to protect Helena at the revealing ceremony.

  He forced his eyes to stay open as he waited for the one man who could help him keep Helena safe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Helena didn’t want to be at the ball any longer. Not when she knew something dark was brewing in Madra. Not when Dell left her confused and frightened, thinking something was going to happen to him.

  Ian Tenyson slithered to her side once more, and she had to force herself not to shrink away. How could one brother be so sweet and noble while the other was like a slimy serpent?

  “Enjoy your stroll, Len?” he asked.

  “My name is Helena.” She faced him, fire in her eyes. “Princess Helena.”

  “Your brothers call you Len. If we are to be family, I will have that pleasure as well as many others.”

  She stepped closer to him, leaning in so their bodies brushed and lowered her voice. “You will never be a part of my family.”

  She tried to back away, but he gripped her arm. “You think you’re clever. But know this Helena, your father is not the one who has promised you to me. I will have you.”

  What did he mean her father didn’t promise her in marriage? He was the only person with the power to do so. Not even the queen had a say.

  Helena glanced out over the men who’d come for the ball hoping to be chosen. If her father hadn’t planned this, maybe one of them did have a chance.

  She ripped her arm free of Ian, searching for the one man who could give her answers. Edmund stood with Stev on the edge of the dance floor. No one could tell they were anything more than friends just by looking at them.