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Glass Kingdom

Page 21

by M. Lynn


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  Escape into the rebellion of Madra where they're fighting for much more than a crown. Full of romance, adventure, and intrigue, Glass Princess is book five in the Fantasy and Fairytales series.

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  Get your copy of Glass Princess here.

  Glass Princess

  Thunder split the sky, crashing down around Helena. The roar echoed among the trees, but she didn’t turn back.

  Freezing rain pelted her pale face as she made the daily trek.

  Thirteen long days. They’d been in Bela too long, and all she knew to do was wait.

  “Len!” Dell ran to catch up to her, his long strides matching hers. “You can’t keep doing this.”

  His words barely made it past the drumming of the rain, but she knew what he meant. It wasn’t the first time.

  Her feet picked up speed. “I have to,” she yelled back.

  A bolt of lightning lit up the gray morning sky.

  “No.” He grabbed her arm, yanking her back. “You don’t.”

  She turned to face him, pushing at his chest until he released her. “My brother is out there. Quinn is the only one left besides me and Kass.”

  He didn’t say the words they were both thinking. He didn’t have to. His eyes said it all. If he’s not dead. If he hasn’t joined his twin’s side in Madra, then where is he?

  She shook her head. “No. He’ll come.”

  She turned and trudged up the hill to Bela’s lookout post.

  Before he betrayed them, she’d thought Cole would always be by her side. How well did she really know her brothers?

  Her fists clenched at her sides. She couldn’t think that way. Estevan gave his life to save her and Kassander, he was too good to betray his family. She knew them. She knew Quinn.

  He’d come.

  At the top of the hill, a small shack sat with a deck surrounding it. Helena had spent each excruciating day since her arrival sitting there. Waiting.

  She wiped the rain from her face and yanked open the door. Aron turned at the sound of her entrance, a grim set to his handsome features. Shaking his sopping chestnut curls out of his face, he regarded her with surprise.

  Dell pushed through the door behind her. “I thought you’d finally gain some sense and stay inside today.”

  Helena moved to one of the windows spanning the far wall. “I’ve never claimed to have sense.”

  Aron nodded as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer.

  “I tried to stop her.” Dell wrung water from his dripping tunic.

  Helena grunted.

  A scowl marred Aron’s face. “She has her own mind. Let her use it.”

  Helena barely heard their continuing conversation as her eyes scanned the countryside. She’d never seen anything so beautiful as Bela, but it wasn’t the vast thriving forests or plains of wildflowers she searched for today.

  “Anything new?” she asked.

  “Nothing more than a few traders from Dracon. The roads are clear.” Aron stepped closer to her near the warm hearth. “We’re unlikely to see much on a day such as this. Even with my gifts.”

  Helena would never grow used to the incredible powers existing within Bela. Aron’s gift allowed him to see things others could not, and at great distances. Queen Persinette enlisted him to watch for the last Rhodipus sibling in case he did not arrive as a friendly visitor.

  Still, Helena had faith in Quinn.

  Aron moved around the small room with confidence, sliding chairs out of the way as he set about to stir up the small fire attempting to thrive in the stone fireplace.

  Dell’s gaze held thinly veiled hostility. He’d never warmed up to the young man, and Helena knew he didn’t trust him. Then again, he didn’t trust anything in Bela, much to her annoyance.

  Helena couldn’t fault him for that. She had a hard time believing Persinette and Alexandre had no motives other than helping them.

  Aron turned from the fireplace. “I really should get back outside.”

  “But it’s pouring rain out there.” Helena gestured to the window.

  “I have a job to do and I see much better outside. My queen has entrusted me with this and I will do what I must.” He dipped his head once before slipping out just as another crack of thunder shook the walls.

  “That man is crazy.” Dell flicked his eyes to the window.

  Helena couldn’t disagree. The people of Bela had an unwavering loyalty to their king and queen. She’d seen nothing like it. It was… unnatural. In Madra, the people obeyed her father, but only because they feared what would happen if they dissented.

  Was Cole now ruling with the same methods?

  Anger seared through her blood when she thought of Cole. Her breath clogged in her throat. “I can’t stay here.” Before Dell could stop her, she ran out into the storm, finally able to breathe once she was outside. She dropped to her knees, her entire body shaking as images returned to her.

  Flames. Flames. They seared across Helena’s vision until she saw nothing else.

  Death. Her family was dead. Mother. Father. A sob caught in her throat. Estevan.

  Arms wound around her, but they couldn’t hold her together.

  Her ebony hair stuck to her lips as she sucked in a breath. A single rebellion had torn down everything she’d known in one night. Had it all really been that fragile?

  “Helena.” Dell’s words warmed her otherwise icy skin. “Len, it’s okay. You’re here. We’re in Bela. It’s over. We don’t have to fight anymore.”

  His words were meant to soothe her, to stop the panic clawing at her chest.

  But he was wrong. Nothing was over. Their fight had only just begun.

  By the time they returned to the village, the storm had moved on to ravage some other unsuspecting landscape.

  Another day. Another disappointment.

  Every morning, Helena woke with a small hope in her heart that it would be the day Quinn came for her.

  Every night, she went to bed with the weight of defeat crushing her.

  Dell walked beside her, a silent companion. They’d struggled to find much to say to each other. Both lost their families, but he didn’t feel it the way she did. His family wasn’t dead. They’d joined Cole in betraying the king, in killing her parents.

  The palace of Bela sat on the edge of great white cliffs, across a small stream with a bridge connecting it to the rest of the village. Calling it a palace was generous. In truth, it only comprised four small bedrooms, a common space, kitchen, and a throne room lacking in any kind of grandness.

  Just like the rest of Bela, its beauty lay in its simplicity.

  Queen Persinette, who insisted on being called Etta, allowed Helena, Dell, Kassander, and Edmund to stay with her and her husband, King Alexandre.

  The queen’s horse, Vérité, grazed outside the door as they walked up and Helena headed toward him. Dell walked by her without a word and went inside.

  Vérité raised his head, fixing her with a golden-eyed stare that calmed her for the first time all day. The horse had taken an immediate liking to her as soon as she’d met him.

  And she’d fallen for him when he’d bitten Edmund.

  “Hey, buddy.” She reached out to dig her hand into his damp mane. “You stay safe in the storm today?”

  Vérité stepped forward to nudge the side of her head with his nose.

  A tear slipped from her eye as his understanding gaze pulled every bit of emotion she’d pushed down right up to the surface. Vérité dropped his nose to her shoulder.

  “I’m okay, Vérité. Or I will be. One day.” She shook her head. “Why am I talking to a horse?”

  “From my experience…” Etta stepped from the doorway. “It’s because there’s no better listener than Vérité. No judgment. Only comfort.” A smile curved the queen’s lips. “And he’ll never repeat anything you say. He’s honorable that way.”

  Helena met Etta’s soft gaze. She’d heard the stories of the Belaen queen who’d fought La
Dame… and won. Anyone who had doubts of the tales need only to look at the woman and they’d become a believer. Fierceness emanated from her.

  In all honesty, Etta terrified Helena.

  When Edmund appeared behind Etta, Helena’s shoulders relaxed.

  “Supper is ready,” Edmund said, his voice as lifeless as it had been since they’d arrived on Bela’s shores.

  At least one person felt the loss as strongly as Helena did.

  She nodded to the queen as she walked past her to wrap her arms around Edmund’s waist. He stiffened in surprise before returning the hug and resting his chin on her head.

  “No luck today, then?” he asked.

  Helena shook her head against his chest. “Sorry I’m getting you wet.”

  Helena could feel Etta’s eyes burning into her back. The two royal women experienced a strange tension every time Helena was around Edmund. Was the queen jealous of their friendship?

  Edmund hadn’t told any of his Belean friends what Estevan had truly meant to him, and his morose demeanor put a barrier between them because they couldn’t understand the gravity of what he’d lost.

  She walked further into the palace, one arm still hooked around Edmund’s waist. King Alexandre, Dell, and Kassander sat near the fireplace with full plates of boar steaks and some kind of leafy vegetable in front of them. Alexandre said something that made the other two laugh.

  Helena’s arm tightened around Edmund.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I feel it too.”

  She tried not to hate them for their joy, but it had already entered her mind.

  “I’m not hungry.” She released Edmund. “I think I’ll just change into something dry and lay down.”

  He brushed a hand over her hair and placed a kiss on the side of her head. “I promised Stev I’d keep you safe, Len. Just remember, whether or not Quinn comes, Kassander isn’t the only brother you have left.”

  She turned away before he could see the tears shining on her face. “Thanks for saying that, Edmund.”

  After rushing into her room and shutting the door, she leaned up against it, whispering to herself.

  “I’m not alone. I’m not alone.”

  She stripped the wet clothes from her body and pulled on a sleeping gown before collapsing into her bed. Her mother would have chastised her for planning to sleep the day away, but she didn’t have it in her to rise again.

  Tomorrow would be another long day of waiting for someone who might never come.

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  Get your copy of Glass Princess here.

  About M. Lynn

  M. Lynn is a USA Today bestselling author of love. Yes, love. Whether it be YA romance, NA romance( Both under Michelle MacQueen), or fantasy romance, she loves to make readers swoon.

  The great loves of her life to this point are two tiny blond creatures who call her “aunt” and proclaim her books to be “boring books” for their lack of pictures. Yet, somehow, she still manages to love them more than chocolate.

  When she’s not sharing her inexhaustible wisdom with her niece and nephew, Michelle is usually lounging in her ridiculously large bean bag chair creating worlds and characters that remind her to smile every day - even when a feisty five-year-old is telling her just how much she doesn’t know.

  Want more books by M. Lynn? You can find them here.

 

 

 


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