Glass Princess

by M. Lynn

Helena flinched. Dell reached out to grip her hand in reassurance, but she nudged her horse to widen the gap between them.

  He pressed his lips together.

  Tyson looked to them. “Simon is right. This is bigger than handing one man over to Madra. Once mother does this, what’s next? Will they hold Camille’s safety over us always?”

  They sank into silence, considering the implications of those words.

  After a while, the rain disappeared and Tyson released his magic, slumping in his saddle from the effort.

  The sun sank on the horizon as Simon stopped. “If we go much farther, we’ll be crossing into Gaule and I prefer not to do that in the dark of night.”

  Edmund gazed at the expanse before them. A valley stretched into the night, white coating the grasses. “Snow. We don’t get much of that in Bela.” A smile slid across his face. “Could we not ride to the Moreau estate? It can’t be far and a soft bed sounds nice right about now.”

  Dell didn’t miss the stricken looks flashing across both Tyson and Simon’s faces.

  “Edmund,” Tyson began. “I keep forgetting you’ve been in Madra with little news of home.”

  “Only what the traders brought us.”

  Tyson nodded. “Duchess Moreau lost her lands soon after you left for Madra.”

  Edmund’s eyes widened. “How?”

  “Duke Ferenz has built quite a force. He laid siege to the great house. You’ve been there. It’s built for fighting since it sits close to the borders of both Bela and Dracon. But they stood no chance. The duke’s men ravaged her villages. We won’t find friends there.”

  Edmund sat back in his saddle, stunned. “And the duchess?”

  “Safe. She now resides at the palace full-time.”

  He blew out a relieved breath.

  Dell didn’t know the people they spoke of, but their grave expressions said enough. Gaule would not be friendly territory.

  Helena patted the sword sheathed beneath her saddle before climbing on, pride blooming within her for doing it without aid.

  She’d slept fitfully through the night, unable to rid her mind of Gaule’s tragic story. A people torn apart by something as simple as magic. In Madra, the few with magic were feared. Most of them took ship to Bela as soon as word of Persinette’s return reached their shores. Some stayed for various reasons.

  But she didn’t know if they’d been hated. It was just one of the many things she didn’t know of her kingdom. How long had the Madran rebellion been brewing? Did the people support it? Had they loved her father or brother at all?

  They didn’t see the first village until they crested the rise of the valley.

  A watchtower stood tall with the black mark of fire stretching up its stones.

  The wall surrounding it had crumbled in many places. They led their horses through the deserted streets. Food and personal items scattered along the cobblestones as if a mass of people left in a hurry.

  “The duke’s army is camped near here.” Landon took the lead. “We must hurry and be off the Moreau lands quickly. There’s a Madran force patrolling the zone between here and the palace. Once we leave this village, we’ll no longer be able to stick to the road. The forest paths are treacherous for horses so keep an eye out.”

  He barely got the words out before something slammed into Helena, knocking her from her horse.

  “Len!” Dell yelled, but he couldn’t get to her because in that moment, a dozen riders appeared from the alleyways.

  Helena shoved at the man who’d overtaken her. He grappled for her wrists, and she twisted beneath him.

  She caught sight of his crimson uniform. Madrans. Rebels. Ire zipped along her skin until all she saw was an enemy trying to subdue her. She slammed her knee up, catching him in the groin. His hands on her loosened just enough for her to yank one free and pull the knife from where she always kept it in her bodice. With one jerk of her hand, he fell over sideways.

  She scrambled to her feet, pulling her knife free, and prepared to face the next attacker. A woman ran for her and Helena ducked the slice of her sword. She looked for her horse to retrieve her own sword, but the animal was gone.

  Blasted beast.

  Tyson reared up on Vérité as the horse kicked his legs out at his attacker’s horse. It was as if the animal thought he too was part of the fight.

  Helena turned once again to face the woman who came after her. She judged the distance between them, calming her breath before hurling her knife with deadly accuracy. It struck the woman between the eyes. She toppled from her steed, and the horse ran off.

  A ringing sounded in Helena’s ears as the fight died down around her. The Madrans had been no match for the smaller but more skilled group they attacked.

  She stumbled back. The last time she’d been in a fight… images played in her mind. Fire. Estevan. She shook her head, trying to free herself from the grip of the past. Would she have to do this again and again to secure the throne? Kill?

  Dell jumped from his horse and sprinted toward her. “Len, you okay?” He gripped her shoulders, eyeing her up and down as if looking for injuries.

  “We need to get away from here.” Simon grunted.

  Dell dipped his head to peer into her eyes. “Len, look at me.”

  The scene came into focus again.

  “You okay?” Dell asked once more.

  She shrugged him off and retrieved her knife from the dead woman as coldness seeped into her. “Fine.” Wiping her blade on her pant-leg, she rejoined the others. “They were Madran.”

  “Deserters, Princess.” Landon’s lips tugged down. “The turmoil within the troops gave many a chance to break away. Bands of deserters now travel the roads, no better than ordinary robbers.”

  “Why haven’t they returned to Madra?”

  “How, Princess?” Landon shook his head. “They have nothing, no money for ship’s passage. Madran troops are sent to foreign countries with no knowledge of when they’ll return home. They enlist under the promise of food for their families. But your father and his wars… He kept many of them in war zones for years.”

  Helena glanced at the dead men littering the street. She used to wonder what could drive a person to kill, to rob. But they hadn’t one day woken up and just decided to live their life that way. Circumstances, many of them created by her father, turned people into who they became.

  How had she lived her life blind to her father’s faults? He’d failed his people. Cole hadn’t been wrong in believing he no longer deserved to be king.

  She could forgive her brother for wanting the crown.

  But her mother? Estevan? No, those were the deaths he had to pay for.

  Once outside Moreau territory, they were on land owned by the Gaulean crown and patrolled by the Madran force.

  Branches whipped Helena in the face as she rode across the snow dusted forest floor.

  Each day, they drew nearer to the palace. What was she going to say to the queen to make her see?

  Uncertainty curled her stomach, but it was Quinn. She couldn’t let him down.

  The walls of the palace of Gaule were grander than any Helena had seen. They loomed above her, brushing the sky.

  Simon rode toward the small gatehouse that looked newly constructed. He spoke with the guards in a low tone.

  Edmund’s eyes never left the gates. “Last time I was here, Etta blew these gates apart.”

  Helena’s eyes widened. “She has such power?”

  “Not anymore.” He tore his eyes away. “There was a time when Etta held all the power of her ancestors. She destroyed her own magic to best La Dame. Now she only had that which she was born with. The power to make things grow.”

  Dell scratched the back of his head. “It would have been amazing to be there for the battle of Dracon. To see that kind of magic.”

  A new man emerged from the gatehouse and Edmund turned his horse away from them. “Be glad you weren’t.” With that final word, he dismounted.

  An older guard in
a crisp blue uniform approached.

  “Father.” Helena had never heard such ice in Edmund’s tone.

  So, this was the man who’d scorned Edmund his entire life. Helena scanned his stern face, instantly disliking him.

  “You shouldn’t be in Gaule,” the man stated. “It isn’t safe for your kind even if the queen supports you.”

  Edmund shrugged. “It’s never been safe for me, has it? We must see the queen.”

  As if noticing them for the first time, Edmund’s father surveyed their group with a scowl.

  Simon returned. “Anders.” He held out his hand. “I bring important guests.”

  Anders refused to shake his hand. “You abandoned your post, Simon. I should have you thrown in a cell.”

  “Anders, I have been and always will do what is best for the queen.”

  The man sighed. “I know. She has been in a rather bad mood since you left. She’ll be glad to see you safe at least. Come. She has already retired to her rooms for the night, but she’ll want to see you straight away. Your guests can have their audience tomorrow.”

  Helena opened her mouth to protest, but Simon held up a hand.

  “Has the Madran ship arrived yet?”

  Anders nodded. “This afternoon. It’s anchored outside the cove. They’re scheduled to leave in the morning with the prince.”

  Each word stabbed into Helena’s heart. Tomorrow. They were almost too late.

  The gates opened, their gears sending a screech into the night.

  Simon hesitated for a moment. “Then our guests cannot wait. They must see the queen now.”

  Anders didn’t stop them as they rode straight through into a town with rows of homes and shops along cobblestone streets. In the distance was another high wall separating the palace from this outer part.

  Growing up in a Madran city, the villages of Gaule and Bela seemed small in comparison. She didn’t understand how their population could live so spread out.

  At the stables, two lads took their horses.

  They walked through the open inner gates into a courtyard. The steps up to the palace entryway stood at the far end, arches guiding the way. Torches stood on either side of the doors. Guards nodded to Simon, not stopping him to question those with him.

  She didn’t know what she’d been expecting after the humble palace of Bela, but it wasn’t the ancient splendor surrounding them now.

  They walked across the marble floor, turning many corners until she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way out. Her heart beat faster the closer they got to the queen’s quarters. This was it. Her moment to save the one member of her family she could. Yet, she didn’t know what she would say.

  They stopped outside a carved mahogany door. Simon paid no attention to the guards stationed there, and they didn’t hold him back. He knocked and waited.

  “Enter,” a voice called.

  One of the guards pushed open the door revealing a lush, velvet-carpeted suite.

  A tall woman with dark hair and clear eyes appeared. Her brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Simon.”

  “Your Majesty.” He bowed.

  “That’s it?” Her voice rose an octave. “That’s all I get? Your Majesty?”

  “Mother.” Tyson pushed past Simon and she saw they weren’t alone for the first time.

  “Ty?” She softened. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until winter left us.” She held her arms out, and he sank into her embrace.

  Helena averted her gaze, tears burning at the back of her eyes. She’d give anything for her own mother to hold her like that again.

  The queen looked to the rest. “Edmund?” She released Tyson. “Oh, dear boy. It’s been years.”

  Edmund received a hug as warm as Tyson’s. He buried his face in the queen’s shoulder and his back shook as if the woman broke through every wall he’d built with one embrace. She pulled back.

  “Edmund.” She tilted his chin so he’d look at her. “I was worried about you when the news out of Madra reached us. Are you…”

  “Okay?” A tear slid down his cheek and he pulled away. “I…” He shook his head as if deciding against telling her. “We’re here for a reason. No matter how much I’ve missed you, that is not why I’ve come.”

  Catrine’s queenly mask returned, and she gestured them into the room, eying the strangers.

  “Landon,” she greeted him. “I did not think we’d see you again.”

  “Your Majesty.” He had nothing else to say to her.

  Catrine spoke to the guards at her door. “Find someone to fetch us some tea.”

  “Wine,” Edmund corrected. “We will need wine.”

  Catrine’s voice hardened. “Tea.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.” The guard disappeared and Catrine shut the door before turning toward the sitting room.

  Two long couches faced each other in front of a crackling fireplace.

  “Sit,” she said. “Please. Then you can tell me who you have brought to my kingdom, Tyson.”

  Tyson swallowed thickly as he took his seat.

  Helena remained standing. She faced the queen. “I am Helena, Princess of Madra.”

  Queen Catrine’s only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that. Seems we may need that wine after all.”

  “Told you,” Edmund grumbled.

  “We don’t have time for drinks or pleasantries.” All uncertainties from moments before faded away, and Helena knew everything she needed to convey. She lifted her chin, peering into Catrine’s hard eyes.

  “No.” Catrine crossed her arms. “That is my answer to you. You’ve come about my prisoner.”

  “My brother,” Helena growled. “You will release him to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” The queen averted her gaze and stepped around Helena to sink onto the couch beside Tyson. “I can’t do that. My daughter is at stake. My kingdom’s alliance.”

  Helena turned to face her once more and opened her mouth to speak, but Simon cut in.

  “And what then? We hand over an innocent man to the usurper and he comes back to us asking for more next time. Camille will never be safe while she’s there. You’re putting all of Gaule at risk.”

  “Their troops,” she said. “We need them. I cannot continue to hold back the rebels on my own. Etta refuses to send help, so what am I to do?”

  “Mother.” Tyson gripped her hand. “Etta can’t send magic folk into Gaule. Even if she tried, her people would refuse, and she’d let them. They will not come to the aid of the kingdom that persecuted them.”

  The queen breathed out slowly. “I know. It is why I cannot release the prince. I’m sorry you have come this far. Madra is my only hope.”

  “Then you will fall just as my father did.” Helena strode to the door and left them staring after her.

  Chapter Seven

  The palace of Gaule was foreign to Helena, yet so familiar. Servants bustled by, preparing for the next morning’s duties. Guards watched her, always aware of the stranger in their midst.

  She’d felt someone following her as she left the royal wing and knew who it was without turning around.

  “They sent you after me?” She said, not stopping.

  Dell appeared from the shadows. “You shouldn’t have left.”

  “I said what I came to say. She spoke her own words. I’ve lived my life around people who make decisions in a kingdom and I can read the signs of a lost cause. We all needed a moment to breathe.”

  “Len.” He gripped her arm to halt her steps.

  “We have to get him, Dell.” She turned, conscious of the eyes on her.

  Heavy steps thudded down the hall and Edmund’s grim face appeared. “Not here.” He brushed past them, turning the corner into another hall. It came to a stop at a door that led into a practice yard. Wooden targets stood on one end, but no archers or swordsmen practiced at the late hour.

  “There won’t be any unwelcome ears out here.” Edmund turned to them
. “Tyson will continue to speak with the queen. That’s why we needed him. We probably won’t see him until the morning so we need to go to our second plan.”

  Helena’s shoulders relaxed. She should have known Edmund wouldn’t rely on only talk to save her brother. He’d do what it took… even if it meant betraying a queen who was obviously like a mother to him.

  Edmund scanned the surrounding area before settling back on Helena. “If the Madran ship has already arrived, we need to prepare ourselves for the possibility that there are Madrans staying at the palace.”

  “Would the queen tell us of this?” Dell asked.

  Edmund’s shoulders rose in a half shrug. “Catrine keeps her secrets. She would not want unrest within these walls. We’re no longer in Bela where the people trust their queen, nor Madra where the king has immense power. Ruling Gaule is like sitting on the edge of a knife. Many people see Catrine as having stolen the crown from Alexandre, but she saved him from this fate.”

  Helena felt for the woman sitting in those lavish rooms. She knew what it was to feel caged by circumstances. But that didn’t mean Helena wouldn’t fight her with every breath she took.

  She hardened her jaw. “It doesn’t matter what good she’s done. She has Quinn. Tell me, Edmund, are you on my side or on hers?”

  Edmund closed his eyes, shielding her from the war raging in their depths. “Catrine has always taken care of me as if I were her own.” His lids slid open, allowing Helena a glimpse into the pain behind his words. “But she’s wrong now. And I have to do this. I have to protect you, protect your brothers.”

  “For Estevan?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “For you. You’re my family as much as Catrine… as much as her sons.”

  Helena held back the emotions threatening to spill forth. She wasn’t the girl who could break down anymore. Not when so much was at stake.

  Dell stepped forward. “What do we do?”

  “Ask him.” Edmund gestured behind them.

  Helena and Dell turned to see who had arrived. Reed stood near the doorway listening to their hushed conversation.

  Dell reached for his sword instinctively, forgetting they’d been disarmed before being allowed into the palace. Helena felt the weight of her hidden knife, secret within the fabric of her dress. She didn’t want to pull it, but if he made a move, she wouldn’t hesitate.