by M. Lynn
Estevan shook his head. “One of my men said he’s here along with the rest of my family.” He moved closer.
Black grit streaked down the prince’s face and exhaustion lined his eyes. He breathed out, coughing as he inhaled more smoke. “We need to find them before it’s too late.”
Neither of them said what they were thinking as smoke swirled around them and the light of the flames flickered across the room.
It might already be too late.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The quiet of the tunnel sucked all life from Helena. She didn’t know what was going on in the palace or if her family was okay.
No one was coming to save her.
That thought swirled round and round in her mind until it latched on, refusing to break free.
No one was coming to save her.
So, she’d have to save herself.
She felt for the knife her mother had given her, its solid weight a comfort against the ice in her veins.
They killed her father. Probably murdered her mother. They would have no one else she loved.
Helena pushed to her feet. She had to get back to the royal residence to confront her brother.
She brushed her hands down the maid’s skirt she wore. No one would know her for anything other than a servant. Except Cole. He’d see her coming for him.
She’d always thought she had an unbreakable bond with her brothers. They were the ones who would always be on her side.
But now she knew the truth. That bond had been made of glass—easy to shatter and impossible to repair.
Just like their kingdom.
Because after tonight, Madra would never be the same.
She listened with her ear pressed to the door for a moment, hearing nothing on the other side. As she pushed into the familiar room, her mother’s face greeted her, lifeless and pale.
A sob stuck in her throat. Chloe Rhodipus was more than her father ever deserved, and it wasn’t until her death Helena felt she finally knew her mother.
She’d saved her.
Helena bent to touch her mother’s forehead, avoiding the pool of blood surrounding her. “I won’t let you down, Mother. I’ll find Kassander and Stev if it’s the last thing I do.”
She straightened and strode into the hall with purpose, her knife clutched tightly in one hand.
A rebel soldier passed nearby, and she pressed herself to the wall. As soon as he was right in front of her, she lunged, tackling him to the ground.
His strong hands gripped her, trying to push her off, but she locked her legs around his chest and pressed the tip of her knife up under his ribs. He weakened gradually as she slid it in until he stilled altogether.
She scrambled off him, pulling her dripping knife free.
“One less traitor,” she said to herself.
But her chest didn’t feel any less tight. There was no relief in taking the rebel’s life. She flicked her eyes to her bloodied hands, which she no longer recognized.
She had to move.
As she rounded the corner, she stopped. Two guards stood outside the door to a meeting room her father had rarely used.
Why were they guarding it?
There was something in there they didn’t want taken. Or someone.
No one will recognize you.
Her mother’s words helped her form a plan. Sending up a thank you to the mask she’d always hated, she slipped the knife up her sleeve and ran.
“Help me,” she cried when she reached the rebel guards. She gripped the closest one’s arm. “I was only doing what the new king asked—searching for the young prince—when a group of men in royal armor started chasing me.” Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath as if she’d just run through the entire palace.
The two guards looked to one another and then down the hall where no pursuers appeared.
“Please,” she pleaded, her fingers still gripping one of their arms.
New plan. This wasn’t working. Helena’s mind spun as she blinked rapidly. Whoever was being guarded in that room was most likely an ally.
Two rebels appeared around the corner, stopping when they saw her with the rebel guards.
“What do we have here, Astor?” one of them asked.
Astor must have been the guard whose arm she still held because the new arrival flicked his eyes to her hand before settling on her face. He smirked.
She removed her hand, using it to push her sticky hair from her sweat-dampened forehead. Her heart thundered in her ears as they neared.
Four rebels now surrounded her, and she finally understood why her father never let her out of the palace. Madra was a dangerous place. People always wanted to take things from those who had them.
In order to face the perils, one had to become dangerous themselves.
Helena rose up to her whole height—which, granted, was still much shorter than their muscular builds. But the look she gave them could have cut glass.
“I have orders.” She slipped the knife from her sleeve into her palm. “You will allow me to see the prisoner.”
If the guards were surprised at her sudden change in demeanor, they didn’t show it. Astor grinned. “Yeah, well we have orders too.” They closed in around her, cutting off any escape.
Helena sucked in a shaky breath, refusing to let the fear coursing through her show on her face. She clenched the knife so tightly it bit into her skin.
But the pain only reminded her why she was here.
They’d killed her father. Murdered her mother. For all she knew, Stev and Kass had joined them in the after.
A Madran princess experienced a transformation on the night of her name day ball. It was meant to change her from child to woman in the hearts and eyes of the people.
It was the day they were truly revealed to the world.
Hours ago, she’d ripped off her mask, but the transformation was now. No longer a princess of a kingdom she already knew her family had lost. Never to be royal again.
All she had left was the burning revenge inside her heart.
She flipped the knife into her other hand, light from the torches dancing across the ornate steel blade.
One of the rebels laughed. “I don’t think this one is on our side, boys.” He leaned in. “I was there, you know. When they took the young prince.” He drew a line across his throat with his thumb.
“You’re lying,” she lunged.
He jumped back. “Why are you loyal to a royal family who cares nothing for you?”
She swiped with the knife, and he gripped her wrist to stop its arc.
“When they brought Estevan Rhodipus to his knees,” he whispered. “I saw fear in the great warrior.”
“You lie.” Hot tears burned her eyes.
“Callum.” One of the other rebels said in warning. “Let’s just put her out of the palace.”
“No.” Callum’s grip tightened on Helena’s wrist until she feared it would break. “She should hear what happens to those who betray Madra. Then you can go into the city and tell others what their disobedience gets them.”
She ground her teeth against the pain. “You’re the traitors.”
Callum shook his head. “Oh, you should have seen it. The princess… we always knew she must have a pretty face beneath that mask, but she looked like an angel as her own brother took her life.”
The words ricocheted through her mind. The princess? Every word they said was a lie. They had to be. Maybe Stev and Kass were okay after all.
White-hot rage rose from the darkest pits of her soul, burning out every bit of mercy she had inside her. She twisted her wrist so suddenly he released her.
Without hesitation, she lunged for him, burying her knife in the soft flesh above his collarbone. Blood gurgled from his lips as strong hands pulled her away and shouts erupted.
Callum stumbled back before falling against the wall and sliding to the ground. He didn’t move again.
Astor wrapped an arm around Helena’s neck while the ot
her guard drew his sword. The rebel who’d arrived with Callum bent to check his pulse.
“She killed him,” he said, surprise tingeing his voice.
Helena strained against Astor’s hold, jerking her head back to crack it against his chin. His arms only tightened as a curse left his mouth.
The second guard closed in as he brought his sword up to press the tip to Helena’s chest. All breath left her as the seconds ticked by.
She lifted her eyes to meet her captors’ in defiance. If this was how it ended, she would not make it easy. The other plain-clothed rebel watched with eagerness flashing across his face.
Was this a game to them?
Did the rebels take joy in destroying everything her family had built?
She kicked her heel back, connecting with Astor’s leg above his kneecap.
“Dammit,” he growled, his warm breath blowing across her neck.
The next words that left his mouth were so quiet, she almost thought she imagined them.
“Trust me.”
Trust him? Trust him?
He had to be kidding.
“We’re not killing the girl,” Astor said.
The rebel stood and backed away from his dead friend on the ground. “She killed Callum,” he growled. “Are you telling me her life is worth more than his?”
Astor paused, frozen for only a moment in time, before he shoved her to the side, knocked away the other guard’s blade and pulled his own. “I’m saying it’s worth more than yours.”
“Traitor,” the man yelled before the tip of a sword protruded from his belly.
Astor twisted to avoid being split in two as the second guard raised a giant broadsword. With an agility that only small men had, he lunged toward the rebel who was still gasping for breath and pulled his weapon free before rounding on his fellow guard.
Their blades clashed, sending the ring of steel echoing down the hall.
Helena backed away until her back hit the door. She inched sideways to where her knife protruded from Callum’s neck and yanked it free. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering across her face. She wiped it, her sleeve coming away stained with crimson.
She clutched the knife to her chest. That was two. She’d killed two people now.
But she knew there would be more. It was for her family. There was no other choice.
The guard’s fight ended with Astor slicing his blade through a gap in the underarm of the other guard’s armor. He collapsed to the ground and was still sputtering for life when Astor bent to rip a ring of keys from his belt.
Helena tried to back away, almost forgetting about whoever was in that room, as Astor’s eyes found hers.
“Don’t move,” he growled with a shake of his head. “I’ve been standing here for the past hour waiting for a distraction that would stall the rebels who were sent to check on us every quarter hour. But you… we have little time because others will have heard the fight.”
She didn’t know what was going on, but as he jammed the key into the lock, she couldn’t move.
He opened the door, and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Edmund.”
She tried to run forward, but Astor blocked her way.
Edmund sat slumped in a metal chair in the corner of the darkened room. Shackles ringed his ankles, chaining him to two iron hooks on the wall. Blood-streaked blonde hair stuck to the bruises on his face.
Hours.
She’d seen him only hours ago.
“My brother will pay for this,” she said to herself.
Astor grunted. “The rebels found him in this state.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “This was your father’s work.”
Her face dampened with tears of betrayal. Neither side in this fight was worth dying for. It was the only thing she knew.
Just as her mother said, her family was more important than any crown.
And Edmund was as much family as anyone.
She pushed past Astor to stop at Edmund’s side. He lifted his head as if noticing her for the first time. “Len.” A smile slid across his face. “How good of you to come.”
“What’s wrong with him?” She looked to Astor for answers.
The lithe guard shut the door, entombing them in the dimly lit, bare room. “They’ve drugged him. We were set to give him a new dose soon so it should be wearing off. It was the only way to keep him compliant.”
“How is he still alive?” She cupped his face gently, examining each bruise.
“Killing him would put us at odds with Bela.”
Understanding lit in her. “And the only thing Cole truly fears is magic.” Her foot hit the chains snaking across the ground and bile rose in her throat. “Get them off him. Now!”
Edmund looked as if he didn’t understand why she yelled, but her entire body trembled.
Astor flipped through the keys before bending to unlock the shackles.
Edmund stood as soon as he was free and Helena pulled him to her, burying her face in his chest. His arms came around her. “Lenny, what’s wrong?”
“Everything,” she sobbed.
He rested his chin on her head. “Let’s find the queen. She can make you some tea.”
Helena’s chest constricted.
Edmund looked to the guard who had yet to say a word to him. “Astor.” He grinned. “Nice of you to visit, but I don’t remember calling you from your mission among the rebel troops. Was it Estevan?”
“Sir,” Astor began. “The rebels have taken the palace.”
“Not possible.” Edmund released Helena and scratched his jaw. He furrowed his brow, clarity returning to his eyes. “Our sources had the date set for tomorrow.”
“They were wrong.”
“Come on, Edmund.” Helena placed a hand on each of his arms and peered up into his face. “Come back to us. Clear away the fog. Find your magic again. We need you.” She paused. “Stev needs you.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Stev…”
“We don’t know where he is. The king and queen…” She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to say the words. “Are gone. But I refuse to leave this palace before we find Stev and Kass.”
“Stev.” He said the name almost like a prayer, and his shoulders went rigid. He blew out a breath and closed his eyes.
A gust of air whipped Helena’s bangs from her face. She smiled for the first time since the ball. Edmund was back.
The wind settled before disappearing altogether as if Edmund’s magic wasn’t there at all.
Edmund strode to the door and yanked it open only to stop as four swords blocked his way. Ian Tenyson stepped forward.
“Hello, princess.” He smirked. “I said I would have you and I never break my promises.” He turned to his guards. “The girl comes with us. Arrest the ambassador. Kill the traitor.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dell fell through the door into the servants’ stairwell from the royal family’s residence, smoke chasing him from the row of once grand rooms.
Nothing. They’d found nothing. No one alive at least. Anyone who’d been trapped in the wing was either dead or found some way to escape.
They’d found the king with his throat cut lying in a pool of his own blood. His cruel eyes no longer saw the destruction he’d created.
Because Dell had no doubt in his mind, this rebellion was the king’s fault.
The young prince Kassander landed next to Dell with a thump as his brother threw him from the flames they left behind.
Coughs wracked Dell’s body as he bent over, gasping for breath.
“We need to get lower,” Estevan wheezed. “Away from the smoke.”
Dell clambered to his feet. Helena, where would you have gone?
He didn’t have time to think of anything but escaping the heat and poisonous air they left behind. His feet thundered down the steps and he gripped a carved golden rail to keep from falling face first into the darkness.
The air grew clearer the farther fr
om the smoke they ran, and Dell sucked it in as if he’d never tasted anything so sweet.
Kassander stumbled, his weak legs giving out beneath him. He collided with Dell, sending him tumbling down the last few steps and landing at the bottom in a heap.
Every muscle in Dell’s body screamed in agony as he tried to roll the boy off him. Keep going. You have to keep going.
Sounds of fighting reached them and Dell met Estevan’s gaze. “Takes two sides to fight.”
Estevan nodded. “We probably have allies out there.”
Estevan bent and lifted his brother. Did that man ever tire? Did the smoke in his lungs have no effect?
Dell rolled with a groan. Why’d he return to the palace on this night? He could have been safely away on a ship headed for Bela.
Oh, right… there was a girl.
As if the thought of her brought forth his strength, he pushed himself from the floor and pulled the thin sword from its scabbard. Wiping soot from his face, he turned to the prince.
“You’re going to need your hands to fight, prince.” He gestured to the unconscious boy in Estevan’s arms.
Estevan leaned his face down to listen to the boy’s chest. “He’s breathing.” He glanced around at the small room at the bottom of the stairs. The only light came through the cracked open door.
He set his brother down in the far corner, pain twisting on his face as he stared at the boy. “I’m coming back for you, Kass,” he whispered. “I promise.” He dropped a kiss onto the boy’s ashy hair and straightened to regard Dell. “I hope you know how to handle that thing more than the carving knife you threatened me with, boy.”
Dell bristled at the term ‘boy’ but now was not the time to argue with an arrogant prince. This time, they were on the same side.
Coughing the last bit of smoke from his lungs, Dell shouldered the door aside and charged into the back hall, normally used only by those serving the royal family.
He leaped at the still form of a young girl in Rhodipus livery, her light hair circling her head like a ring of light.
Rebels fought those servants who took up their king’s name. Royal soldiers fought royal guards.
Stev jumped into the melee without a second thought, swinging his long sword at those he could hack his way through.