Glass Kingdom

by M. Lynn

  “It’s the prince,” someone yelled. Dell didn’t know which side recognized the prince first, but it was a galvanizing call. Rebels wanted the reward they’d receive for capturing the true heir and delivering him to the pretender. Loyalists cleaved to the Rhodipus line as if Madra would fall apart without them.

  Maybe it would.

  Or maybe their demise would finally allow Madra to flourish.

  Dell didn’t care. The rebels stood in the way of him finding the princess. Bemus appeared among the fray with the first signs of true life Dell had seen from the man who’d lost so much. He parried and kicked one leg out, using his foot to hook his opponent’s knee and take him down before ramming his sword into the rebel’s belly.

  Cries of pain mixed with grunts of effort. Dell advanced to Bemus’ side, blocking an oncoming blow. The force reverberated up his arm as he was locked in a duel of strength with a narrow-eyed opponent.

  He pushed the man’s sword away, and it clattered to the ground. Dell lost his grip on his own blade, but didn’t waste a moment as he dove at the rebel, knocking him to the ground.

  His fists beat into his opponent’s face with every bit of viciousness he possessed. This was who he was. Not a dueler with fancy swords or formal training. A brawler. A boxer who preferred street fights to the ring.

  By the time the man stilled, Dell’s knuckles ran red. As he jumped to his feet to help Stev, a scream ripped through the air, tearing the world in two.

  Helena.

  Len.

  His eyes flicked to Estevan who battled two men. Bemus held his own alongside a squad of royal guards.

  “Dell,” Estevan yelled as he twisted to avoid another blow.

  Dell met his burning stare. What did he see there? Permission? A plea? An order?

  “That’s my sister, Dell.” Desperation. Something he’d never expect from the prince. “Get her out of the palace. Please.”

  An attacker advanced on Dell, but he ducked away, sprinting toward the entry to the main hall. Smoke no longer clouded his mind or choked his breath. Every pain he’d felt faded away. A new energy chased the exhaustion away.

  “I’m coming, Len,” he said, mostly to himself.

  He entered the hall cautiously, preparing himself for anything he saw.

  Three men stood over a kneeling man and woman. Recognition burned into him as he realized Len and Edmund had their arms tied behind their backs.

  Tears made tiny tracks through the blood on Len’s face, but no fear shone in her eyes.

  “You’re going to pay for this, Ian,” she growled.

  Dell snapped his eyes to the men he hadn’t truly looked at yet. His brother stood in the center of two broad-shouldered rebels. Two dead men and two dead women lay sprawled across the ground.

  Dell advanced silently, letting the shadows hide his approach.

  Ian laughed as he bent forward, his face only inches from Len’s. “I may not be allowed to kill you, Helena, but Cole didn’t say anything about harming this pretty face.” His fingers trailed down her cheek. “It’s a shame you had to hide it for so long.” His hand inched down her neck and over the bodice of her dress.

  She sat impossibly still.

  Edmund fought against his restraints. “Don’t touch her.”

  Ian straightened. “Shame you care more for her than your precious Camille of Gaule.”

  A growl ripped from Edmund’s throat. “What have you done with Camille?”

  A smirk splashed across the asshole’s face. “Nothing, of course. She is to fulfill the promise of her kingdom. Madra will have a Gaulean princess as queen and the Gaule army as allies. The treaty drawn up makes no mention of which Madran heir she must marry.”

  Ian patted the side of Edmund’s face. “Cole will be a better husband to her than Estevan, isn’t that right, Edmund?”

  Edmund snapped his teeth, and Ian yanked his hand away with a muttered “rabid dog.”

  Dell slid a knife free of his belt, trying to decide how to make his move. He’d be no match against Ian and his men. Estevan and Bemus were still fighting back in the servants’ hall.

  Ian gripped Edmund’s hair, forcing his head to the side to expose his neck. He held out his hand and one of his men set a knife upon his palm. Ian took it and pressed the tip to Edmund’s skin just below his ear.

  The ambassador didn’t even flinch.

  “Neither side trusts you, Edmund of Bela. The king you defend had you beaten in his paranoid quest to find those who would do him harm.”

  “I defend no king,” Edmund spat.

  Ian pressed the knife harder, drawing a line of blood. “Interesting.” He removed the knife and wiped the blood with his thumb before drawing a crimson line down Edmund’s forehead. “You fight for no king… yet still you act against us, Madra’s rescuers.”

  “You rescue no one,” Helena growled.

  Ian issued a quick kick to her side. “I’m not speaking to you. You’ll learn to obey me once we’re wed.” A threat deepened his voice.

  “You think you’re on the right side in this, Ian Tenyson.” Edmund lifted his eyes. “But I have been through war. I have seen kingdoms torn apart from within and enemies on the outside. War doesn’t heal. It only destroys. There is only one side here. Madra’s. And if you insist on rebellion, you act against the freedom you say you’re fighting for.”

  Ian’s knee collided with Edmund’s chest and the blonde man fell sideways with a grunt of pain. “The Rhodipus line and their precious priests caused this, Edmund. Not us.”

  Edmund lay on his side, unable to rock himself back to his knees. As his eyes scanned the hall, and they connected with Dell’s from his place hidden in the shadows.

  He flicked his gaze from Helena to Dell. What was he trying to tell him?

  Dell stepped forward, sword in one hand, knife in the other, but before he could make a move, the sound of many heavy boots entered the hall, stealing all chance of saving Helena and Edmund.

  Ian’s new ally strode up beside him, a frown marring his face.

  Cole Rhodipus had arrived.

  Twine cut into Helena’s wrists as she stared up at the brother she’d revered only yesterday. Every one of her brothers had been heroes to her. No flaws. No weaknesses. They protected her and provided a barrier between her and their father.

  She’d never thought she’d need protection from one of them.

  Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes, and all love she had for Cole drifted away on a current of hatred and desperation.

  Ian Tenyson stood at his side. Her father’s old ally fixed an intense gaze on her, cocking his head to the side as if he couldn’t quite figure something out. He looked to Edmund who lay beside her and seemed to stare off into the shadows.

  “Sister,” Cole began.

  Her lip curled. “Don’t call me that. I am not your sister. Not anymore.”

  She’d have sworn she saw sadness pass his features, but he shook it away. “Whatever you may think of me, Len, I do love you.”

  “Just not mother and father, right?” Hot tears burned her eyes.

  Cole sighed. “She was not my mother.” He put a hand on Helena’s shoulder. “But I know you loved her. I am sorry for that.”

  “Don’t touch me.” She jerked away, wishing more than anything to have a knife within reach.

  He retracted his fingers and curled them into a fist. Ian whispered something in his ear before he marched toward an arch that obscured part of the hall from view.

  A struggle sounded and Cole nodded to two of his guards to go assist Ian. They took off, pulling a young man from the shadows and disarming him.

  “Dell,” Helena whispered.

  Edmund rolled into a sitting position, his eyes scanning Dell. Helena couldn’t let them take him too. Without thinking, she jumped to her feet, her tied wrists making it difficult, and ran at the guards holding Dell. They weren’t able to reach for their weapons before she slammed her shoulder into the one on the right. Both relea
sed Dell.

  “Go!” she screamed at Dell.

  He scrambled to his feet and tried to urge her along after him, but pain ripped into her shoulder, searing down her arm as if her entire body cracked open.

  “Stop,” Cole yelled, but his voice was only a wisp of sound in the haze of her mind. Her knees buckled and Dell caught her before they slammed into the marble floor.

  “Someone help,” Dell called.

  “Len!” Edmund tried to get to her, but his way was blocked and he couldn’t reach for a weapon with his hands tied.

  Cole crouched over her, his eyes the stormy gray she’d always loved. They spoke of passion. Of fight.

  She blinked away tears as numbness spread through her body like a tidal wave, taking everything in its path.

  Cole pointed to the man who’d thrown the knife. “Arrest him. He harmed the princess against my orders to leave her intact.”

  In the last moments before the darkness swallowed her whole, she almost thanked him for looking out for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Dell held Len’s lifeless body in his arms, her blood soaking into the sleeves of his shirt.

  “Len,” he said, tears choking his voice. “Len.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “Fetch me a healer,” Cole ordered. “Now. If my sister dies, I will have each one of your heads.”

  Two of his soldiers ran off to find a healer, but Dell barely noticed them leave.

  Cole pierced him with a dark gaze. “You’re the Tenyson bastard.”

  “He’s no Tenyson,” Ian spat.

  “That’s what my father said about me for the first ten years of my life.” Cole stayed quiet for a moment, brushing his hand over Len’s head. “Are you loyal to your family?”

  “He’s never—” Ian stopped abruptly when Cole raised his hand.

  If Dell said no, he had no doubt Cole would cut him down right where he sat. But if he said yes… would that betray everything he was?

  Instead of answering, he lowered his eyes to Helena’s serene face. “She’s going to be okay.” He wasn’t speaking to anyone but himself, yet Cole put a hand on his shoulder. For just a moment, they were in their grief together.

  Ian shifted where he stood. “If she dies, you owe me a wife.”

  A roar ripped from Cole’s throat and he turned to Ian. “I owe you nothing.”

  Dell tried to take pleasure in his brother’s chastisement but he couldn’t focus on anything but the girl in his arms.

  Cole cut strips of his own shirt with a knife and handed them to Dell. Dell pulled the knife free from the right side of her chest and pressed the cloth to it. He dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground.

  Dell pressed two fingers to her neck to feel her heart thumping against them.

  Edmund bucked against the rebel holding him back, freeing himself to run to Helena’s side.

  A door crashed open, spilling loyalists into the hall. They froze when they saw the scene now playing out.

  Dell lifted his eyes to find Estevan and Bemus leading their followers forward.

  Around him, guards braced for a fight. But not Dell. He held Len tighter against his chest. Edmund took her hand as his glassy eyes found Estevan.

  “Are you going to make me fight you, brother?” Estevan asked. He scanned the group, his eyes landing on Helena and widening before returning to Cole. “Why her, Cole? Why Len? I know how you’ve always felt about mother, father, even me… but Helena? She loved you more than any of us and you…” His voice grew thick. “She was good. And now she’s—”

  “Not dead,” Dell said, his words echoing down the hall. “Not dead.”

  Estevan’s shoulders dropped. “Not dead?”

  Edmund met the prince’s eyes and shook his head.

  They stayed locked in a silent communication. Edmund mouthed the word “no”.

  Estevan nodded. “I’m sorry, Edmund.” He faced his brother. “I want this to end.”

  Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m listening.”

  “The palace you fought so hard for is crumbling. People continue to battle through the night. The fire engulfing the royal residence will spread if not contained.”

  “All things we are aware of, Stev. Tell me why I should negotiate with you instead of run you through with my sword.”

  “I’ll surrender.”

  “Stev,” Edmund groaned. “You can’t do this.”

  Estevan ignored his protest. “I will allow you to take my throne and my person. You can do as you wish with me. Make an example. Kill me. I won’t fight it. I’ll tell the loyalists to stand down and begin repairing their kingdom. No more fighting. No more destruction.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. “What do you want in return?”

  Estevan stepped forward, fire burning in his gaze. “Release them. All of them. Edmund. Helena. Kassander. Dell. Allow them to leave Madra. It’s the only way to complete your takeover of the throne. The people will never move past the unrest as long as they fight for me.”

  “You can’t possibly be considering this,” Ian snapped at Cole. “You promised Helena to me.”

  “Shut up.” Cole commanded.

  The rebels returned with a graying healer in tow. Dell clutched Helena tighter, refusing to let her go. Dell scanned the healer’s gaunt face. Deep lines were carved into his skin. He moved past Cole and Stev in their now silent standoff and dropped to his knees slowly.

  “I am healer Whiston,” he stated. “Let me see the princess.”

  Dell finally relinquished his hold on her to turn her small frame, revealing the deep wound in her shoulder. Red seeped free of the gash, spreading out through the fabric of her bodice.

  Healer Whiston leaned in, peering at it for only a moment before lifting his eyes to the new king. “Fatal, I’m afraid.”

  No emotion coated his words, but they had the impact of a thousand battering rams driving the destruction from the inside out. Dell shook his head, unable to believe it. Not wanting to see this as the end.

  Cole cleared his throat, fighting back his own feelings. “I accept your terms, Estevan Rhodipus. With Helena passing into the after, the rest of them mean nothing to me.” He turned away from his remaining family. “I will allow you to say goodbye. Dell will be allowed to leave with Helena and Kassander. I cannot let Camille join them, however. We will use Edmund’s gift to get your message out to the people and then he will be free to leave as well.”

  “No,” Edmund’s voice cut through the tension like glass. “I can’t. I’m not leaving you.” His eyes pleaded with Estevan as Cole began walking away.

  Estevan dropped to his knees in front of Edmund. “I once asked you to keep my family safe from rebellion. We didn’t know the threat would come from inside. But I need to ask this of you again. Protect Kass as if he was your own blood. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with his life.”

  Tears streamed down Edmund’s face and he pressed his forehead against Estevan’s. “What is he going to do to you, Stev?” He closed his eyes. “I have this feeling I’m never going to see you again and that…” He sucked in a breath. “I love you.”

  Estevan brushed Edmund’s tears away with his thumbs and pressed his lips to the Belaen’s. “You brought me to life, Edmund of Bela. I may be headed toward my own execution, but I will be grateful to you until the day I die.”

  Dell wiped his own tears away. So, this was how it ended. A dead king and queen. A murdered princess, and a captured prince.

  Estevan pulled back. “Find Quinn. He’ll help you keep them safe.”

  Them. Them. Dell stared into Helena’s pale face. She didn’t need to be kept safe any longer.

  Guards hauled Estevan to his feet and formed up around him.

  As another gripped Edmund’s arm and yanked him forward, he met Dell’s watery gaze. “Get Helena and Kassander to the docks. Bemus will help you. If they had word of the rebellion, the ship would have waited for us.”


  The ship. Corban.

  This wasn’t the end after all. If he made it in time.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The final look Cole Rhodipus gave his sister would be forever burned into Dell’s mind. Eyes blazing with both fury and desperation as he watched her breathing slow. A jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep any emotion from flickering across his face.

  It was painfully obvious to anyone who watched him.

  He may have hated his lot in life, but his sister had existed outside of the burning embers of his pain. She’d been the light in the otherwise dark world.

  Dell knew because she acted as the same guiding force for him. And they were both going to lose her.

  Cole issued orders to his men to escort Dell from the palace along with the near-dead princess. Estevan bent to kiss her cheek, a single tear breaking the facade of strength he emitted.

  “Go.” Edmund’s voice thickened. “I’ll be there soon. Make sure she stays with us, Dell. Don’t you lose her.”

  He only nodded, the words he wanted to say clogging in his throat.

  He’d come to the palace to protect Helena. No other reason. And he’d failed. But he wouldn’t fail in this.

  Bemus disappeared with one of the guards, returning a moment later with the half-conscious Kassander cradled in his arms.

  A second guard attempted to lift Len from Dell’s lap.

  “No.” Dell shifted Len to the ground and stood. He couldn’t stand the thought of rebel hands on her. He bent, sliding one arm underneath her back and the other under the bend in her legs. Her hair fell loose of her bun and fell in wild waves over his arm.

  “Keep pressure on her wound,” Bemus said, leaning in. “And don’t let any of them know she still lives.”

  Dell nodded, wedging the ball of cloth against him to keep it pressed to the gash as Helena’s life continued to seep from her.

  Cole’s rebel soldiers surrounded them, marching through the halls. The fighting outside had mostly died down, but tiers of smoke rose from sections of the wall surrounding the courtyard. A giant hole now stood where part of the wall used to be. The smell of copper and ash tainted the air as blood ran through the streets of Madra.