by M. Lynn
Silence followed his statement.
Catsja laughed, bending forward to slap her leg. “Of course she is. This is just bloody perfect.” When she smiled, Helena stood mesmerized. The woman had an unusual beauty. Her laugh cut off, and she straightened, all humor gone from her face. “Here’s how it is, Princess. We fight to keep the little we have from being taken, to keep our kingdom safe. We do not fight for the Rhodipus name. As far as we’re concerned, your father was no better than this new king. We owe you nothing. We do not follow you.” She stepped closer. “Try not to get in our way.”
She bumped Helena’s shoulder on her way into the adjoining room.
Bemus shook his head. “Welcome to Madra’s rebellion, Princess.”
Helena tried to get some rest in a corner far from prying rebel eyes, but also far from her unconscious brother. Thoughts of better times blocked her sleep. Times when it had been her and her brothers against the world. Back when her mother could hold her and tell her it would be okay.
She wiped at a tear as Bemus sat beside her. He held out a mug of tea, and she took it gratefully. Not waiting for it to cool, she sipped the scalding drink, letting it burn through her, enjoying the pain.
It seemed pain was all she knew anymore. Not for the first time, she wished Dell was there with her.
Bemus sat silently for a moment before speaking. “I knew who you were tonight when I first saw you.”
She pulled herself into a sitting position and waited for him to continue.
“I fought alongside Estevan and Dell in the rebellion.”
She lowered her gaze to the cup in her hands.
“I was sorry to hear about Estevan’s death.”
Her hands shook and Bemus took the cup from her. “Stev was… he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Bemus set her cup aside on the floor. “No. He did not.”
“I know you rebels hate my entire family. My father… was not a good king. But Stev would have been. Maybe if more people had fought for him, he’d be sitting on that throne right now.”
And there was the truth Helena had been scared to voice before. She was bitter. Angry. Not only at Cole. No. Some of the blame lay with the Madran people who hid in their homes while their ruling family was slaughtered.
“Maybe so,” Bemus said. “But we’re here now. Our numbers have grown rapidly since Cole Rhodipus became king.”
Helena shook her head. “And you all think we need more blood staining the palace walls?” She pulled her knees in and rested her chin on top. “My father told me never to trust a rebel. That they always had another motive and did nothing for the good of the kingdom.”
Bemus didn’t respond right away, but his eyes drifted to Edmund. “Princess, I hate to tell you, but you’ve been trusting a rebel this entire time.”
She shook her head. “Edmund only wanted to keep my family safe.”
“He wanted to keep you safe and the princes Kassander and Estevan. But he has never been beholden to the bastard princes.”
Helena let her eyes rest on Quinn’s still unconscious form and Bemus’ final words took a moment to register.
“He was never loyal to the king.”
She peered sideways at the monstrous man. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she didn’t need Edmund to be loyal to her parents. He hadn’t risked everything to keep the Rhodipus line ruling Madra, and she’d known that. He only wanted to keep her and Estevan alive.
Even now, he hadn’t returned with her to take the throne. Only to take his revenge. And maybe help the people he’d left behind. His place was among them, and Helena wished more than anything hers was too.
But the time for indecision had passed. She rose to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Bemus asked.
Steeling herself, she took a step. “To do what I came here to do.”
He didn’t move to stop her as she reached the door. Out in the hall, Edmund spoke to Catsja in a low murmur as they bent over a table laden with various weapons. He lifted his head as Helena approached.
She studied the blades and axes. The mercenaries had taken her knives, and she felt naked without them. Yet, she pulled her hand back without picking one up. They wouldn’t let her into the palace without first taking her weapons, so there was no point.
Edmund opened his mouth as if to say something, but Helena shook her head.
Edmund nodded, understanding shining in his gaze.
She held up two fingers. If she didn’t send word within two days, the rebels would launch an attack on the palace.
Edmund must have told Catsja of her plan because the woman looked on in sympathy. “If you have need of aid, look for our top rebel contact inside the palace. His name is Reed.”
Helena’s blood froze.
Reed.
Edmund had gone pale. “Reed Tenyson?”
Catsja nodded, flicking her eyes between them. “He came to us the day after you two left Madra. His information has been invaluable.”
Helena clenched her jaw. “If I find myself in danger, the last person I will seek out is Reed Tenyson.”
She turned to stride past them without another word. Reed was the reason they had been unable to save Quinn in Gaule. If it hadn’t been for the youngest Tenyson, she might have had her brother by her side now. Instead, he sat as a prisoner inside a rebel base.
Instead, he was a traitor.
As she stepped into the courtyard, she tried to control her breathing. Dell. She’d been trying so hard not to think of him. A fresh wave of pain washed over her. Reed’s men almost killed him that day on the beach. There would be no forgiveness for that. The panic from that day returned, and a tear rushed down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand as the door opened behind her.
A hand wrapped around her upper arm and turned her into a solid chest. Edmund wrapped his arms around her.
“Promise me again he won’t hurt you.”
Could she? She was starting to think she didn’t know Cole at all. Edmund’s arms tightened at her silence.
Finally, she lifted her face to peer up at him. “I’m going to be okay.”
He swallowed thickly, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You’re my family now, Lenny. If something happens to you…”
She squeezed his arm. “Nothing will happen to me.”
She wished she could be as confident as her words. Edmund released her as an older man led a horse from a stall.
Edmund helped her into the saddle. Helena swallowed back the tears threatening to choke her. “Edmund… if something happens… tell Dell…” She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing his face. “Tell him I’m sorry.”
And that I love him, she wanted to say. But she held back those words as Edmund squeezed her leg and stepped back.
With nothing else to be done, Helena nudged the horse forward.
Ambassador row sat on a stretch of now abandoned streets. The sound of the horse’s hooves striking stone was like a drum beat to her ride to battle.
As she’d always worried, Helena was now utterly alone. But the knowledge didn’t weigh her down as it once had. Now, there was no one else at risk. No one to keep safe.
As she turned onto another empty street—this one with shops and homes crowded on each side—she let the moon bathe her in its silver glow. These streets, this kingdom was worth any sacrifice. She knew that now.
Her father hadn’t ever known, but her mother had. Rule without sacrifice was only tyranny. War without hope was only death. A fight without reason was only murder.
She loved them all. The merchants climbing the spiral. The poor struggling for food. The priests who’d once thought they were doing good and lost their way.
Her family. Madrans. Foreigners. Magic-folk. Non-Magic-folk.
They were her reason.
She rode through town until she could see the high walls of the palace she’d once called home. They’d fixed the parts of the wall blown to bits by explosions, but black still stre
aked much of the surface, a reminder of what took place here only months ago.
Guards lined the top of the wall, shadows in the night. Their torches lit up the sky, casting orange across the vast expanse.
Shouting erupted as Helena neared.
“Oi, you there! Stop!” Heavy footsteps pounded down the steps behind the wall.
Helena held her breath, reminding herself this was what she’d come for. She slid down from the horse, setting her feet on solid ground.
The door at the base of the gates opened, spilling guards onto the street. They jogged out, their armored boots crashing against the ground as they surrounded her, weapons drawn.
Lifting her chin, Helena found the guard with the general’s stripes on his uniform.
“I am here to see the king.”
None of the guards moved. Their faces were impassive masks. The door opened once more, and a man Helena would recognize anywhere stepped through.
A grin slid across Ian’s face. “Helena.” He gestured to the guards to drop their weapons. “Your brother will be happy to see you alive.” He held out a hand to her. “Come.”
She didn’t take it. After a moment, his smile dropped, and he grabbed her elbow, jerking her forward. The guards followed them closely.
Was this how they treated everyone who came to the palace or had they known she’d come to them?
One of the guards broke off from the group, leading her horse away. Helena barely noticed as she walked up the familiar steps, knowing her parents or oldest brother wouldn’t be there to greet her on the other side of the tall doors.
But she wouldn’t allow herself to cry for them. Not now. Not here. They’d be better served by how she’d deal with Cole.
At the door, one of the guards patted her down, looking for weapons. Once he was satisfied, Ian gestured inside. He hadn’t touched her again, but his eyes slid over her, making her skin crawl.
Inside, the palace sat unchanged. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the crown hadn’t changed hands at all. Her father’s tapestries and maps adorned the walls, the opulence grander than anything she’d seen in Bela or Gaule.
But the warm cherry walls and plush carpets didn’t soothe her as they once had. Now she saw them for what they’d been. Unnecessary. Paid for by taxes the people couldn’t afford.
Servants watched her pass with curious eyes. She looked for faces she knew but found none. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the pulse throbbing in her ears until it was all she heard. There was no turning back now. No getting out. She either took care of Cole or spent her life trapped within these walls.
As she’d spent her entire youth.
Ian turned the corner, and she followed him wordlessly. He burst through a door to a stairwell, and Helena’s feet stopped moving. She knew where they were going.
No.
It was destroyed.
The place her family had been happy. Where she’d enjoyed life with her brothers by her side.
The royal residence.
A guard prodded her forward, and she climbed the stairs. At the top, Ian unlocked a door and held it open for her. The hall leading to the residence remained the same, untouched by the fire she’d started to free herself from Cole.
After the ball that had forever changed her life, they had locked her in her mother’s rooms. Her mother—being trained as a Canan assassin—picked the lock. Once in the main corridor, Helena had set flame to the tapestry hanging nearby. She hadn’t known it would spread so rapidly.
Ian procured a second key at the end of the hall and pushed Helena through the door. The living space that greeted her had new furniture, and she suspected the old was too damaged. But there was no other sign of destruction.
A doorway opened and Helena sucked in a breath.
Cole stood stock still on the threshold, his face displaying no emotion other than shock. “Lenny?” He shook his head as if not quite believing his own eyes.
Helena took in his haggard appearance. Shaggy, uncut hair. A scruffy face. Wrinkled uniform.
This wasn’t the man she’d expected.
She pushed away any sympathy she might have once had for her brother and straightened her spine. “My name is Helena.” Her eyes narrowed. “Lenny is a family name.”
The unspoken meaning behind her words hung between them. He was no longer family.
He nodded as if believing he deserved everything she said to him. “I just…” His eyes found Ian and hardened. “Leave us.”
“Your Majesty…”
All weariness faded from Cole as the coldness she recognized from the night of the rebellion set in. “Ian, not now.”
Ian bowed stiffly and turned on his heel. The guards followed him, leaving Helena with only her brother.
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly unsure of what she should say to him. She’d come to pledge her support—however fake it was. But now the words wouldn’t come.
He took a tentative step toward her.
She stepped back.
Pain flashed across his face, quickly replaced by something she couldn’t interpret. “I thought you were dead.”
“I almost was.”
Interesting. Reed hadn’t told him she lived. That still wasn’t proof of his loyalty to the rebels.
Cole swallowed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad you came home.”
She scanned the room and its unfamiliar furnishings that stood as a symbol of what happened here. “Home.” She shook her head. “This isn’t my home.” In her mind, she saw the vast fields of Bela, but that didn’t feel like home either. Not without her family.
Uncertainty shone in Cole’s eyes. That had never been like him. He was confident. Sure. He shifted his weight to his other foot, never taking his eyes from her.
“I don’t expect you to understand, Helena.” He brushed a hand through his unkempt hair. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“Can I…” He rushed forward before she could stop him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
She stiffened, and a sob escaped her throat. The comfort felt as it always had. Growing up, Cole had been her companion, her protector.
And now he was the one breaking her apart.
He buried his face in her neck. “You’re alive,” he breathed. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
After a moment, she put her hands on his chest to push him away. “Cole, I’m here, okay. I came back. But it wasn’t for you.” She had to mix pieces of truth in with her lie. “You killed my mother. That isn’t something I can…” She sucked in a breath, stepping farther away from him. The words came to her. Quinn wouldn’t be able to refute them while the rebels held him. “Quinn sent for me.”
Cole straightened in alarm. “Quinn. I sent him to the docks. A mercenary captain claimed to have Edmund being held prisoner.” He looked to the door. “He should have returned hours ago.”
Tears swam in Helena’s gaze. “I was with them, Cole. I didn’t know Edmund was a rebel. I swear. He told me he’d escort me home, and I let him. When Quinn arrived, I was so relieved. But Edmund’s people came for him. And…” Her lip shook as she met Cole’s eyes. “They took Quinn. That’s why I told your guards I needed to see you as soon as I got here.”
Cole stumbled back. “We need to find him.”
She nodded, wanting Cole to go out searching himself. It was his twin after all. Getting him away from the protection of the palace would allow the rebels to help her.
Cole pulled her back into his arms and this time, she let him. “We will. We’ll get our brother back. Then we’ll kill every last rebel.” He spoke into her hair. “I want us to be a family again, Helena. Now that I know you’re alive…” He pulled back. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve had no word of Kassander. Many people died in the fight, including some who were burned beyond recognition. I’m afraid he might have been one of them.”
Tears spilled from Helena’s eyes but not for the younger brother she knew was alive and safe. No, they were for the one she was sure was gone forever.
Her shoulders dropped. “Word reached me of Estevan as well. It seems you, Quinn, and I are all we have left.”
A smile split Cole’s face, and Helena wanted to wipe it off with the blade of a knife. He’d always hated Stev, but the obvious joy on his face cut straight through her.
He strode across the room and threw open the door to speak to the guards and Ian waiting outside. “Scour the city. The rebels have Quinn. The order is to kill all you find.”
Ian nodded. “They won’t have him for long. I’ll call in the regiment that just returned home.”
Cole shut the door once more and turned the lock.
“You aren’t going with them?” Helena asked, her stomach dropping in disappointment.
Cole shook his head as he faced her. “They’ll find him. As for you… there’s something you need to see.”
He reached the door he’d first come out of and pushed it open before grabbing a candle from the table near the couch and entering the room.
Stale air struck Helena as she followed Cole inside. The room once belonged to Stev. Someone had erased all smoke and fire damage. A large four-poster bed sat against the far wall with the shape of a sleeping man under the blankets.
Cole reached him and as the light from the candle hit his face, Helena gasped.
The man’s chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. Sweat soaked hair clung to his face as he turned his head. Pale skin stood in contrast to the dark circles under his closed eyes.
Helena’s legs weakened beneath her, and she fell. As her knees crashed into the cold stone, one word escaped her lips.
“Estevan.”
Chapter Twenty
Dell stared out at the dark water, letting the first morning light wash over his face. In the cabins below deck, people slept. Only a few sailors managed the sail as the rest of them finished morning preparations. They’d reach Madra soon. He could see it getting closer, a sleeping city on the edge of the river.
