Rebel's Honor: Book One in Crown of Blood Series

by Gwynn White

  Could she be with Lukan? Although that seemed unlikely, it was the only rational explanation, beyond things he didn’t want to imagine. They would probably be in the great hall, preparing to attend the dinner with the dignitaries invited to the wedding.

  That made sense.

  Walking fast, he made his way to the great hall, down passages and hallways devoid of any signs of two impending royal weddings. He stopped at the double doors and looked at the imperial dais at the top of the hall.

  Neither Lynx nor Lukan were there.

  A fresh wave of fear hit him, chilling him to the core. He folded his arms to calm his pounding heart and roved his eyes over the tables.

  A hand painted with intricate henna designs slipped under his arm. “You look troubled, Ax.” Malika’s dancing brown eyes were questioning. Her cerise silk gown gleamed in the torchlight like a living thing.

  He gave his sister a strained smile. “Have you seen Lynx?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve managed to lose her, too.” She grinned at him. “She’s going to think Chenayan men a pretty useless lot if you and Tao are anything to go by.”

  “Not funny, Mali. You know I have good reason to be worried about her.”

  Malika’s freckled face scrunched up in a frown, and she whispered, “How did your talk with His Imperial Idiocy go?”

  Before heading out to search for Lynx in the maze, he had told Malika of his plans to negotiate a deal with Lukan.

  “Not well. That’s just an added problem.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Wait here. I’ll get Stefan. We’ll help you look for her.”

  Stefan, sharply turned out in his full ceremonial uniform, was already heading toward them. He stopped at Axel’s side with a slightly raised eyebrow.

  “Your men are gone,” Axel whispered, not bothering with lengthy explanations for Stefan’s benefit. “The best place to start is the lair. See if we can find her on any of the cameras.”

  Axel led the way. Once at the door to the complex, he brushed his thumb against the scanner. The door remained stubbornly closed. He swore at what he considered confirmation that his father was involved in Lynx’s disappearance.

  “I haven’t seen Father all evening,” Malika said. “He’s probably in . . . there . . . with Lynx.” Malika didn’t say the word dungeon, but it hung heavy in the air. “Poor girl. I hope she’s okay.”

  Fists clenched in impotent rage, Axel banged his forehead against the door, designed to withstand a blasting stick. Then, he straightened, his jaw set. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Where else could she be?”

  Both Malika and Stefan looked at him with troubled expressions. Was he in wishful thinking territory? He didn’t want to give in to their negativity, but where else would she be? He paced across the hallway, trying to think, but every time he passed that locked door, his conviction grew. Lynx had to be in the lair.

  Stefan gripped his shoulder. “Let’s get something to eat while we make plans.”

  Axel pulled away from him. “I can’t leave, knowing she’s in there.”

  “Be reasonable, Axel,” Stefan whispered. “You know as well as anyone that there is only one door into the lair, and you’ve been programmed out of it. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Axel eyed Stefan and tried to resist the urge to punch him.

  Malika stepped between them. “Ax, Stefan is right. I doubt you’ve touched any food today.”

  He hadn’t, but that didn’t matter. “I’m not leaving. When she comes out of there, I’ll be waiting for her. And him.”

  Malika sighed, scooped her skirt up, and plunked herself down onto the floor. She patted the ground next to her. “Stefan, sit. If my brother is doing this vigil, then so are we.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Axel grumbled as Stefan slid down the wall and sat next to her.

  Malika took Stefan’s hand and looked up at Axel. “I’m—we’re—not leaving you, so stop moaning.”

  Axel looked down at them, dug firmly into their positions. They would stay with him all night if that’s what it took.

  “All right, this is as good a place as any to plan a strategy for tomorrow.” He pulled out his flashlight. Only when he had yanked all the candle sconces off the walls and tossed them out the window, did he sit. By the limited glow of his flashlight, he said, “Based on what Lukan said to me today, I think it’s safe to assume that he intends to marry Lynx.”

  Stefan pulled out his own flashlight, adding to the illumination. “We cannot interfere with that. The emperor will never tolerate it.”

  Axel nodded. “That’s a given. But it doesn’t mean Lynx has to consummate the marriage.” Marriage in Chenaya was only binding on consummation.

  Stefan’s voice dropped. “But I thought the emperor commanded—”

  “It’s one thing to command,” Axel interrupted. “It’s another to get people to obey.” He thumped his thigh with his fist. “Tonight, we’re going to come up with a plan to get Lynx, Lukan, and me out of this mess Lukan and Mott have gotten us into. Oh, and we have to protect her parents in Norin, too.”

  Stefan’s eyebrows actually arched. “All before tomorrow morning? You’re not asking for much, are you?”

  “Those are the stakes. All we need is a plan—and set of titanium testicles to see it through,” Axel said, refusing to acknowledge that it couldn’t be done.

  “Even without titanium testicles,” Malika said dryly, “I can probably help. With the whole blood on the sheets business, at least.”

  Axel—and Stefan—grimaced.

  “I hope you’re not suggesting sleeping with Lukan,” Stefan said, voice aghast. “That's assuming, of course—”

  Malika grinned at him. “You’ll have to marry me to find that out, won’t you?”

  Even in the wan light, Axel saw Stefan blush. He shoved Malika with his elbow. “Brothers—especially this one—do not take kindly to hearing that their little sister’s virginity may have been tampered with. Particularly when said brother knows the last dolt she insisted on courting. I already have a kill list as long as my sword. Don’t make me add to it by taking out your ex-boyfriend.”

  Malika chortled. “I love you, too, Ax. Now, as I was saying, Lady Tatiana is supposed to be Lynx’s lady-in-waiting, but it’s obvious to everyone that the relationship hasn’t worked. Anyway, I’ve volunteered to take Tatiana’s place, and Father agreed. I think he’s hoping that I’ll do a better job at keeping tabs on Lynx.”

  Axel shook his head. Despite all the surveillance equipment at his disposal, his father could be very blind where Malika was concerned. There was little Malika couldn’t get away with.

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “All Emperor Mott is interested in seeing is Lukan’s head on a pike and Lynx’s bloody sheets on a platter. Correct?”

  Axel nodded. That’s exactly what his father had told him when breaking the news that Axel was to kill Lukan.

  “So, before Lukan can get his hands on her, I’ll hide Lynx while you”—Malika’s voice hitched—“take care of him. When she’s safely hidden, I’ll doctor her sheets. In the morning, you can hand both . . . items to the emperor. And while you’re in Lapis and Treven, we”—she turned to Stefan—“will take care of Lynx.”

  As grateful as he was, Axel knew Malika’s plan was pathetic. This was the succession they were talking about. If Axel were in Mott’s boots, he’d insist on more than a bloody sheet to convince him the succession was safe—or as safe as it could be, given the ludicrous situation. He would demand real evidence, of the photographic kind, before considering the job done. He had to assume Mott would be thinking along the same lines. Axel rubbed his jaw, mind whirling with ideas on how to fake some hot digital sex.

  “Axel, I’m talking to you.” Malika poked him in the ribs.

  Before he could comment, the door to the lair slid open, revealing Felix and Lukan. Axel leaped to his feet. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand to know where Lynx was, but in his min
d’s eye, he saw how their huddle must have appeared. It certainly didn’t shout strength and confidence.

  But then, Lukan wasn’t looking so good, either. Gutted was perhaps the best description Axel could come up with for his cousin’s pale face, beaded with sweat.

  “Nephew and uncle having a tête-à-tête,” Axel said, pushing the sarcasm. “Father, you really need to work on your social skills. My cousin does not appear to have enjoyed your hospitality.”

  Axel expected a comeback from Lukan, but his cousin merely looked at him with haunted eyes.

  “Don’t be so smug, Axel. We may still find ourselves working together.”

  Eyebrows raised, Axel wondered what that cryptic comment meant as Lukan hurried away. He turned to his father. “Care to explain?”

  “More than you can imagine.” His father peered down at Malika sitting on the floor.

  Stefan stood at attention.

  Felix prodded Stefan in the chest. “This is no place for a lady. Get my daughter out of here, now.” He grabbed Axel’s arm. “And you, come. We have much to discuss.”

  “No place for a lady,” Axel said, “but quite fine for Lynx to spend the night here? How does that work, Father?”

  His father snorted as Axel followed him into the lair. Axel itched to push past him to get to the dungeons, but he knew it would be pointless. If his father had reprogrammed the main door, he would certainly have changed the codes on the portcullis, too. Digging deep into his limited wells of patience, he followed his father into his office—and stopped short at the door. The room looked as if it had been tossed about by a particularly bad-tempered giant.

  “Lukan and Mott?”

  His father nodded. “Right a chair for yourself.”

  Axel obeyed, but his foot bounced up and down on the chenna-stained carpet.

  His father swept his hand around at the carnage of the broken desk, buckled chairs, soiled carpet, and smashed artworks. “This has to stop, for the good of the throne and the Avanov family.”

  “No doubt you have a plan.”

  “I offered Lukan a deal, and like the wimp he is, he agreed to my terms.”

  Axel stuck his feet on his father’s wrecked desk, enjoying seeing him wince. “Then you certainly did better than I today.”

  “Perhaps it is time you listened and learned, my arrogant son.” His father pulled out his handkerchief and flicked it over the chenna-stained squab of the only other functional chair. Then he sat. “Lukan has commanded Morass to kill Mott tomorrow after the wedding ceremony. With my new ice crystal in Morass’s face, the imbecile will obey.”

  A gush of air—relief for himself and sorrow for Morass, who had no choice—escaped Axel’s lungs. If he were honest, patching together credible footage of a copulating couple was not how he wanted to spend the evening.

  “It’s not over yet, son. The Fifteen will not be happy with Mott’s demise, and as Lukan is the one to benefit, they will be quick to blame him. It will fall to Lukan to justify his actions.”

  “They won’t turn him down. They can’t, because he’s the legal heir. And let’s face it, regicide is hardly a new thing in Chenaya.”

  “Quite. Some might say it’s a sport played exclusively by crown princes. Still, there are plenty of men among the Fifteen who believe that neither Lukan nor his brother are suitable candidates for the throne. They would happily see you as emperor.”

  Axel’s stomach knotted. “That implies that Lukan and Tao’s reprieve is short lived.”

  “Except this time, the Fifteen will take care of the messy bits. I have it in good faith that many of them are looking to make a clean sweep of things. They are supremely tired of Mott and his offspring.”

  Axel sighed, wishing this whole sordid business was over. He considered mentioning that he would never take Tao’s place on the throne, but he knew his father would brush his objection aside. He leaned forward into his father’s personal space. “I’m going to Treven. Nothing else is more important than that.”

  “Not even Lynx?”

  Axel took a quick breath—it wouldn’t help if his father knew the depth of his care for her. With a wafer-thin crust of calm hiding his emotions, he asked, “Where is she? In the dungeons, I presume?”

  His father’s jaw dropped. “The dungeons? Our future empress? What do you take me for?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  A rare smile split his father’s face. “Perhaps not. Now, my son, please see reason and work with me here. If we plan carefully, in the not-too-distant future, the throne will be yours.” He fixed Axel with sharp eyes. “But your game with Lynx—it ends now.”

  Axel raised an eyebrow.

  “You have what you wanted. You have taken over command in Treven. Now leave Lynx. The only way Mott will go blithely to his death is if she and Lukan show up tomorrow for the wedding.”

  Axel grudgingly admitted that his father had a point. Still, he shot back, “Knowing she is safe is hardly interfering.”

  His father sucked in an impatient breath and then pulled his informa from his pocket. Quick as a flash, he held it up to Axel’s eyes, blasting his retina with a red beam of light.

  “What the hell?” Axel yelled, tossing his chair back in his scramble to get out of the rays.

  “Oh, calm down, Axel. It’s the new technology I programmed to control the doors in the lair.” His father stood. “If you’re so worried about the Norin bitch, spend your night searching for her. It’s certainly not the worst thing you could be doing between now and the wedding.”

  Axel no longer believed Lynx was in the dungeons, but when he left the room, he still slid open every door, looking for her.

  It was fruitless. Finding her in the palace, with its thousand rooms, would be almost impossible, but he had to try. After dismissing the guardsmen in the camera control room, he pulled up a chair at a bank of monitors and started the slow scan of every room in the palace fitted with candle sconces.

  His ears pricked when he saw Lukan in conversation with Morass. His cousin held a crossbow and a vial of yellow liquid in his hand. Axel’s blood chilled as he listened to Lukan brief Morass to kill Lynx after the wedding. He buried his face in his hands and tried to breathe as the full implication of Lukan and his father’s scheming hit him.

  Needing to move, he leaped up from his seat and started to pace as he considered how to save her. Lynx avoiding the wedding was not an option. That meant he had to come up with another workable plan. The obvious solution was to change the command Lukan had programmed into Morass’s head.

  Axel flipped to the ice crystal program on his informa and flicked through lines of coding. Cold fear settled on him when he didn’t recognize the programming. Clearly, it was something new his father had devised.

  It’s just code. No different to anything else. Just figure it out.

  Face puckered in concentration, he began to unravel the complexities of his father’s mystery. Just when he thought he was making progress, he hit an unfamiliar encryption. Conscious of the passing of time, he systematically worked through it.

  Until he met the next encryption, then the next.

  Finally, it struck that this was no coincidence. The changes were coming so quickly that his father had to be dueling with him. His heart sank. Was this why his father had let him stay in the lair? To prove that he was in control and that Axel had no choice but to obey him?

  Not while Axel drew breath.

  But he knew that a battle of attrition, with him thrusting and his father parrying for supremacy of Morass’s brain, was pointless. He could never win on his father’s battleground.

  Perhaps the answer was to command one of Stefan’s loyal men to eliminate Morass while the assassin waited in his hiding place during the wedding? Axel rejected that idea. His father would expect Axel to try something like that. It would only expose Stefan and his ice-crystal-immune men to possible scrutiny. Axel couldn’t risk Stefan’s safety like that.

  There was always another
plan . . . Axel tossed his informa down and hoicked his feet onto the table. Too radical to consider seriously, he tried to push the idea away. It refused to budge. Sweat beading on his upper lip, he prayed to all the gods he didn’t believe in that he would not be required to use it.

  But it was the only current option. Axel grunted, knowing it was the hugest, riskiest toss of the dice he had ever made.

  His father and Lukan had left him no choice but to step in front of Lynx’s quarrel.

  Axel grimaced and then brushed his fear aside. He didn’t plan on dying. His ceremonial armor—a black leather brigandine emblazoned with a red-and-gold Dragon—would offer some protection against the quarrel, and King Thorn had an antidote to the poison. The Norin were a mere three days away by airship. Twenty-four years of overprotectiveness convinced Axel that his father would have him on the first available airship out of Cian. Lynx would be afforded no such courtesy if Morass targeted her.

  If Lynx knew, she’d never let him risk his life for her. She could know nothing of his plan, but she would surely use her influence with her father to save his life. That influence would give her power—and amnesty from his father’s scheming. His father would never target Lynx while she held the key to Axel’s safety.

  It was the only solution he could see to the calamity his father and Lukan planned. Face set in a mask of determination, Axel set off to enlist Stefan’s help.

  Chapter Forty

  Lynx heard the key rattle in the lock on her cell door. With no windows, she had no idea what time it was. Sleep had been elusive, due to a combination of claustrophobia and despair, which she knew her wedding day would do little to dispel. Her beloved Axel would have to stand by and watch her marry his cousin. Every fiber in her body berated her for causing him pain, but honor had to be served.

  Winds, please let him understand. And forgive me for hurting him.

  With one oath almost fulfilled, she needed to meet with Uncle Bear to plot a strategy to complete her second oath—telling her father about the ice crystals. Regardless of the Chenayans, she would find time today at the wedding to speak with him. It would take her mind off her own sorrow at losing Axel.