The Glass Queen

by Gena Showalter

  Laughing, I threw back my head, clasped my dress and twirled faster. Dancing was more fun than I’d ever imagined. I didn’t feel weak or unwanted right now. I felt unstoppable.

  “Hello, Ashleigh.”

  I stopped and swayed, a familiar face swimming before me. When the spinning stopped, I realized I stood face-to-face with Milo. Firelight bathed him in a golden glow, framing a body several inches taller than I remembered. He had more muscles, too, and showed them off in a tight tunic and leather pants.

  I gulped. “Hello, Milo.”

  “I must admit, it’s nice to see you again, Princess.” He inclined his head, the key around his neck glinting in the firelight.

  “And you, as well.” I traced a fingertip over the tips of the golden nails, my hackles on edge. “I’m glad you found me. I wanted to ask if you still believe I’m Leonora.” For starters.

  “Oh, no. I know you are not Leonora...yet.”

  Yet? There was that word again. Only, it wasn’t so wonderful this time. “During our conversation in the garden, you mentioned your father’s journals. I would love to read them. I promise I’ll be extra careful with them.”

  Glee lit his eyes, as if he enjoyed the words waiting on the end of his tongue. “I burned the journals once I finished reading them.”

  What! “Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t want anyone else knowing what I know.” His gaze flipped up, looking beyond me. He scowled. “We’ll talk again soon.” He stepped back and vanished as quickly as the witch and the oracle.

  I stood there, uncertain and—

  “What do you think you’re doing, Asha?”

  11

  She is the sun, she is the moon.

  He wants her always, he wants her soon.

  SAXON

  I peered at Ashleigh, my hands fisted. Golden light framed her from head to toe, creating a perfect halo around her. On her brow, perspiration resembled diamond dust. Her eyes glittered like freshly polished emeralds. She parted her lips as she panted, her chest rising and falling in quick succession.

  The girl had mesmerized me, and I couldn’t look away. I could only stare at pure temptation. Was I angry? Absolutely. She’d gotten out of the tent somehow, ignoring a clear, unmistakable order I’d hated myself for uttering. But I’d done it anyway, just as a good avian should when seeking restitution. She’d impressed me yet again. She had no right to impress me.

  Though I hadn’t seen her leave the tent, I’d known the moment she’d exited, the tracker spell alerting me; it also informed me of her quick visit to the Enchantian Forest. A mistake, surely. I’d found her in the camp only minutes later. As she’d paraded past bloodthirsty warriors, I’d followed at a reasonable distance, wondering if she would use her fire magic to protect herself.

  She hadn’t. Because no one had dared to approach her. Because I’d cast a warning glare upon any who’d considered it.

  Watching her twirl around a firepit, uninhibited and merry, I’d marveled at her grace and enthusiasm. I’d smiled, and I’d fumed. How could a girl who lived with such unfettered joy be the same one who’d stabbed me and murdered my family?

  “Saxon,” she breathed, her raspy voice a caress in my ears.

  I should add a new punishment to her tally. I would add a new punishment. Only a fool made threats and failed to see them through. All I wanted to do right now?

  Dance with her.

  She was more dangerous than I’d ever realized. But...

  I didn’t care. Not here, not now. I stalked forward, closing the distance.

  She clocked my every move, but she didn’t run. No, she stood her ground, her panting breaths growing more noticeable. I stopped after I’d invaded her personal space, expecting her to back down. I towered over her, the giant to her sprite.

  She jutted her chin, and I inhaled deeply. Her rose-and-vanilla scent teased my nose, the best parts of me stiffening.

  “Why were you speaking with the warlock?” The powerful male was dedicated to aiding her father. “Do you conspire with your prince’s competition?”

  “You already know I’m familiar with Milo. He lived at the palace in Fleur when I did, and his father is the one who died with my mother. If I was going to conspire with anyone, it would be Ophelia and Noel, not Milo. I don’t think he’s very nice.”

  “You looked friendly with him. Do you forget that he fights for Dior’s hand in marriage?”

  “So? You do, too.”

  Unable to deny it—yet—I stepped even closer, my body pressing flush against hers. Still she didn’t back down, her display of strength arresting me. How was I supposed to proceed with her?

  I couldn’t even look away. Flickering firelight bathed her face, her emerald eyes as bright as the Avian Mountains at sunrise. A time when dew-dampened foliage glistened with life and vitality. Just the sight of her delighted my senses.

  In this lifetime, I had little experience with pleasure, so I wasn’t as resistant to its allure as I’d been in the other lifetimes. I’d never had a serious relationship, only a string of temporary companions. I’d never trusted anyone enough. No one had ever felt right.

  My relationship with Ashleigh felt just as wrong as the others. And yet, it also felt...inevitable.

  Why fight what you cannot stop?

  Why not enjoy my descent?

  Someone with a bongo drum joined the flute player, keeping the beat. Soft. Seductive. Rhythmic. As if fate had brought the musicians together at just this place, at just this time, for just this moment. Dancers gyrated around us, weaving a magical spell.

  “Are you going to drag me back to the tent?” Ashleigh rasped, pressing a hand over her heart. Did it race?

  When I spied the golden nails held to her knuckles by a hair ribbon, I almost smiled. I’d left the nails for Leonora, expecting her to melt and trade them, as she’d done in the past. But Ashleigh had armed herself instead. Smart girl. Wily.

  “Saxon?” Ashleigh prompted.

  I wasn’t ready to part with her. Wrapping my arms around her waist, holding her close, I told her, “What I’m going to do is dance with you, Asha.”

  “Dance?” she asked at a higher pitch. Her eyes widened and she flattened her hands against my pectorals, as if to push me away, but she applied no pressure. “Is this dance some sort of punishment? Because I snuck out fair and square.”

  “Dancing with me is punishment?”

  “Yes!”

  “Are you sure?” I slid one hand up, up, her back to cup her nape. A low moan left her. I closed my free hand around her wrist and lifted her arm until she moved of her own volition, sliding her fingers over my shoulders.

  I eased her into a slow, languid rhythm, and we rocked from side to side.

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Rosy color bloomed in her cheeks as she held me tighter. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me, and I’m tired of not understanding things. Usually I’m quite clever, I assure you. But I defied your orders, and now you’re dancing with me.”

  “Yes. You did defy my orders.” I searched her gaze. “And I think you do understand why.” One very big reason pressed between her legs.

  Her blush deepened. “I didn’t want to assume...”

  “We’re past assuming when you can feel the evidence,” I told her dryly. Unless she didn’t know what a hard-on was?

  I almost groaned.

  Her scandalized gasp confirmed that she did, in fact, know and I chuckled. At the sound of it, her eyes widened with shock. A timely reminder. I had no right to be laughing around her.

  “Won’t your people protest?” she asked. “I mean, I realize now I must have put you in a terrible position. Because you keep losing.”

  “Yes, I understood that part. And I’ve put myself in this position, Ashleigh.” I wasn
’t sorry, either. Would my army care if they heard about this? Probably. No chance they wouldn’t hear about it. Two guards had flanked me as I’d hunted Ashleigh. Now those same guards stood nearby, awaiting my command. One of them—Adriel—despised me at the moment. After leaving Ashleigh in the tent, I’d punished him severely, doing to him what he’d threatened to do to the princess this morning. I’d broken both of his legs, ensuring he had to be carried or fly. And, though he was now in great pain, I was forcing him to remain in the air by my order. No rest for the wicked.

  Avian healed faster than most, and he’d be walking again in a few hours. If he so much as scowled at Ashleigh after that...

  He didn’t want to find out what I would do. When I gave an order, I had to know it would be obeyed. If you couldn’t trust your team, you couldn’t win a war.

  “Well, I do happen to like this particular position,” she admitted shyly.

  Her sweet scent intensified, and my most primal, possessive instincts flared to sudden, vibrant life. When she traced her fingers over my shoulders, coming closer and closer to my wings, I caught myself rolling my hips. As we brushed together, her pupils enlarged.

  They drew me in...

  Her fingers inched closer...

  If she touched a single feather, what remained of my control would cease to exist. I would claim her mouth with my own. To start.

  Almost within reach...

  Her fingers stopped, and I tensed. Panting a bit faster, she asked me, “What are your plans after the tournament?”

  The question stopped me cold. I admitted, “We’ll go our separate ways, and we will never speak again.” Because you’ll be locked away, forever trapped. Exactly what I desired.

  Yes. Desired. The way it has to be.

  She tensed before urging me into a slower sway. Her fingers moved away from my wings and her gaze went far, far away. A dreamy smile teased the corners of her lips. “Well, you’ll be missing out. I’m fated to have the most amazing happily-ever-after.”

  I had to push my next words through clenched teeth. “Leonora used to say the same. That she was fated for a happily-ever-after with me. Cinder and her prince.”

  Ashleigh humphed. “I don’t care what she said. I’m Cinder from ‘The Little Cinder Girl.’ Obviously. And guess what? I kind of agree with Leonora. I’m pretty sure you’re the dishonorable prince, too. Although you might also qualify as the evil stepmother. I’m still figuring everything out. It’s a process. But if you are the prince, you don’t have to worry that I’ll think we’re going to get romantic or anything because I know many of the story elements are symbolic. Am I rambling? Anyway. Whatever your role, I’m for sure getting a happily-ever-after. I’ll accept nothing less.”

  Her nervousness was cute. “So certain? Despite all the evidence pointing to the contrary?”

  “Evidence?” she sputtered. “What evidence?”

  Namely, the sleep spell headed her way. Something I knew about, but she did not. “You war with a warrior known as the Destroyer. Twice you’ve lived and died without wedding the one you claim to love. Your own father—” I pressed my lips together, going quiet. I wouldn’t say it. If she wasn’t ready to face her father’s disdain, I wasn’t going to be the one to hurt her with the truth.

  “Maybe all of that is true. Maybe it isn’t.” Ashleigh cupped and squeezed my shoulders, as if she wanted to be sure I was steady enough to absorb the weight of her next words. “The past is the past, yesterday done and gone. My present actions direct my future. If I fight for my happiness, I’ll have it. Eventually.”

  “I’m sorry, Asha, but that just isn’t true. In any war, there is always a winner and a loser, even though both sides fight their hardest.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed, surprising me. “But, Saxon, if we asked the losing side whether or not they regretted giving their all—giving their lives, if necessary—for what they wanted, they would not. How could they?”

  She...wasn’t wrong. But I wasn’t ready to concede. “You ascribe to a fairy-tale prophecy, certain it’s a map or key to the happiness you’re fighting for, yes?” When she nodded, I said, “But how can that be when so many details are left to individual interpretation, able to mean whatever anyone desires? I assure you, I can insert myself into any fairy tale and justify my role.” Roth and Everly had qualified for multiple characters in their own fairy tale, “Snow White and the Evil Queen.” They’d even believed me to be one of the Seven Protectors.

  “Prove it, then.” Ashleigh peered at me, luscious waves of dark hair shimmering around her lovely face. “Convince me you play a role I know you do not. Convince me you’re...Cinder.” There was an aha in her voice.

  I relished the challenge. “I am Cinder because... I was just a child when my parents exiled me from the only home I’d ever known. I moved in with Roth and Farrah, and their family essentially became my stepfamily. For years, I worked as Farrah’s guard, and I fought to protect her. But one day, she decided to curse me, ensuring I slayed an innocent girl on her behalf. The act of an evil stepsister.” I meant to deliver my speech without emotion, but anger, frustration, and sorrow laced each word. “I’m strong. I’m fast, and I will not bend. I’d rather break. In three lifetimes, the marriage-minded princess has had eyes only for me. Three, the very number of balls thrown by the handsome prince.”

  “That is...you...” She gave her head a hard shake. “No. I’m Cinder. I’ve only known it an hour or so but I know it with every fiber of my being, and you can’t change my mind. So go again. Prove you’re, I don’t know, Cinder’s father.”

  Such faith in the tales, with no concrete evidence of their validity. I didn’t think I’d ever believed in something I couldn’t see, feel, taste, or touch. Not as Saxon, anyway. Craven had believed in the power of love...until Leonora taught him better. Would Ashleigh’s certainty crumble in the face of adversity, too?

  “In two other lifetimes,” I said, “I made a home with Leonora. After we separated, I made a family with someone else. I was a father. Leonora killed my wife and the children.”

  “Oh, Saxon.” Ashleigh moved her grip to cup my cheeks, ghosting her thumbs over my cheekbones. “I’m so sorry.”

  A gesture of comfort. From her. The girl I’d purposely hurt. Something cracked in me, just a little bit, but I didn’t think it could be patched. A defense, maybe, soon to collapse. The past beginning to separate from the present. Whatever it was, I sensed this break would bring serious consequences sooner or later.

  “Craven and Tyron didn’t love their wives,” I said. “They married only to continue the royal line. But they made families with those women and losing them...it was unimaginable.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, as if overwhelmed by her own emotions, and rested her forehead on my chest. “Why did you have to have a kinder side?” she moaned.

  Crack. “This is me being kind?”

  “Listen,” she said, and lifted her head. “This is horrible timing, but I have to tell you now, before something bad happens. It’s just, I like her, okay?” She dropped her hands to my collar and plucked at my tunic. “Maybe. Probably. Yes, I’m pretty sure I do, in fact, like her, and I was so certain I didn’t like you, I mean, you abandoned me in the tent and stole my eggs, but here you are, dancing with me, and sharing meaningful parts of your life, so I think I’ve changed my mind about you, but I’m still not sure why I’m even considering this.” The babbling stopped long enough for her to draw in a deep breath. “On the other hand, if you do represent the fairy-tale prince, as part of me continues to suspect—”

  “What are you trying to tell me, Asha?” I asked, amused despite myself.

  “—perhaps your greatest enemy is pretending to be your best friend. Or something,” she added without offering a courtesy response to my question. “Or maybe she’s using her voice magic to trick you. Do you understand what I’m saying now? You ne
ed to know so you’ll understand why I’m laughing in your face later and reminding you about the night you refused to believe in fairy-tale prophecies.”

  “Asha,” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not sure how you’re not getting this. I’ve explained it three different ways now. Don’t make me flat out say it.”

  “I need you to flat-out say it.”

  She sighed. “This is about your soldier Eve. I saw her kissing your competition. One of the fae. They might be conspiring to take you out. I don’t know. But that might be a good thing, because I’m starting to think you’re all wrong for her. And Dior. You could crush her perfect, golden heart. Why would fate want that? Withering roses. I’ve contracted her chatter. Shut up, Ash.”

  Ah. She’d stumbled upon Everly and Roth. And she’d told me. She’d helped me, even after I’d left her trapped in the tent.

  I didn’t know what to think about this development.

  Ashleigh gaped up at me. “You knew about their relationship, I can tell. Is she spying for you, then?”

  “I will not confirm or deny whether I knew or did not know about the relationship that may or may not be real or faked.” Not with a girl I shouldn’t—wouldn’t—trust. “The only person you should worry about is yourself.”

  I pulled her closer, my gaze dipping to her mouth. So plump. So red. So ripe for a kiss. “May we concentrate on our dance now?”

  “Of course we can.” With a laugh, she threw back her arms, her head, forcing me to hold her tighter to keep her from falling. “I think I’m drunk on the night. I feel amazing right now.”

  “Saxon?” The firm feminine voice came from behind me.

  That couldn’t be who I thought it was.

  Scowling, I turned my head to eye the speaker. It was. My anger gave way to surprise as I exchanged nods with my sister, Tempest. I’d seen her once or twice in the years since my exile, when we’d both visited the same kingdom to attend some type of formal ceremony. She’d changed quite a bit since the last sighting, but her wings had remained the same.