The Glass Queen

by Gena Showalter

  “She kissed me,” I admitted.

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Ashleigh drew a line in the dirt and hay that covered the floor. “That must have been...?”

  Disgust flared as I recalled it. “Awful.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry, then. I should have fought harder to escape.”

  Escape the endless void she’d mentioned? “Never apologize to me. You owe me nothing.” I smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “If Leonora subdues you at times, does that mean you are subduing her at all the others? Or does she only surface when she wishes?”

  Ashleigh gave her lips a nervous lick before rocking a hand back and forth. “It’s half and half. Sometimes I have to fight her to keep her buried, but most often she is dormant.”

  Ashleigh had strength upon strength upon strength, and always had, much of which I hadn’t even known about. “She isn’t you.” I didn’t have a right to ask, but I was going to. The more I knew, the better I could help her. I had to help her. “She’s a different entity entirely. And please don’t worry that I will use this information to harm you. Your protection is paramount to me, and I’m going to prove it.”

  Her eyes flared, and she gave a brittle laugh. “Two different entities? Do you comprehend how ridiculous you sound?”

  She knew the truth, but she didn’t want to admit it to me. She feared my reaction because I’d given her no reason not to. I bowed my head once more, the weight of everything I’d done, everything I’d said settling on my shoulders.

  I needed to speak with Noel. The oracle might have insight into the situation and the people involved that I didn’t.

  The dragons must have sensed their mother’s return; they whizzed into the stall, squawking happily. Pagan landed on her right shoulder, Pyre her left and both babies nuzzled her cheek, leaving a streak of soot behind.

  In that moment, it felt as if someone had used a mallet on my rib cage, the cracking I’d experienced before just a foretaste. The mallet slammed into my heart next, banging and banging until every inch had been tenderized. The sensation was terrible...wonderful...perfect. It was something you forever remembered because it changed who you were, inside and out.

  I’d so badly wanted to be a great king, just once. But how could I lead an army of warriors if I couldn’t protect a girl who’d come to mean everything to me?

  Ashleigh laughed. Even now, the magical sound soothed me in a thousand different ways. “Hello, my darlings. Did you enjoy your first night outside the bedroom?”

  More squawks. Pyre hopped down and tentatively rubbed against me, the scent of fuel and flame wafting from her.

  I looked down to watch her but otherwise remained still, not wanting to spook her. After she gave me a few sniffs, she looked up, and our gazes met. The next strike of the mallet landed with more force. The way she looked at me...

  It was like staring into an abyss of love.

  Children peered at their parents this way, with eyes full of trust and adoration, hope and promise. It made you want to be better, to do better, to move mountains if ever one stood in their way.

  My dragons. My family.

  Yes. I had created a new family in this life. A family I would not lose.

  I will protect what’s mine.

  Woe to anyone who threatened me or mine.

  I gently petted the little fire-breather’s snout. “After I feed Ashleigh, I’ll clean the stable for you. I’ll make it a proper home. Would you like that?”

  “You are going to clean the stable?” Ashleigh asked, as if shocked to her soul. “Are you trying to punish yourself?”

  “I am,” I confirmed. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And...despite the burn of my guilt, I felt freer than I had in...ever. I felt lighter. “I punished an innocent girl for something she didn’t do. So, I will do the work, and you will cheer for my misery.”

  “No way.” She shook her head, dark locks swaying. “I’m helping you.”

  “There is no reason for you—”

  “I’m helping,” she insisted.

  I exhaled. I didn’t want to begin my reparation by arguing with the one I hoped to please. “If you get tired—”

  “I’ll rest, I promise.” She flashed me a grin. “How about we eat breakfast first? Hey,” she burst out, frowning. She canted her head to the side and pointed to a spot down the hall. “What’s that?”

  Because I’d invited her into the stable, she now had access to the spell that surrounded it, allowing her to notice the shimmery outline of the secret door. “Come. I’ll show you, then I’ll feed you.” I took her hand, linking our fingers, and led her down the hall, through the secret door that turned the wall to mist when we came into contact with it. We entered the secret room.

  “What is this?” She walked around the mirrored cage, studying it, then the large apple tree beside it. Bark as black as night. Leaves as white as snow. Apples as red as blood. “Incredible.”

  The tree marked the spot Hartly Morrow had died. Everly’s sister, and the girl Farrah compelled me to kill. The sight of it flooded me with guilt I’d never been able to eradicate.

  “And the glass...it’s flawless. There isn’t a single crack or seam.”

  “The mirror contains Farrah.”

  “This is her prison?” She returned to the cage to trace her finger over the glass, seemingly lost in thought. “Your voice carries a note of affection every time you speak of Farrah. You’ve forgiven her for her crime against you, haven’t you?”

  A dangerous topic, considering I’d told both her and her father that I despised the Charmaine siblings. But I was no longer comfortable lying to her like I lied to my enemy. “She’s one of my closest friends. A sister of the heart.”

  “I bet you’ll be reunited one day.”

  From the corner of my eye, I spied movement. With one arm, I thrust Ashleigh behind me. With the other, I withdrew a dagger. Who dared intrude upon us?

  Two apparitions appeared in the corner of the room, shimmery outlines of a woman and her daughter, both of whom I recognized.

  Though my guilt sharpened, I relaxed my stance.

  “What happened?” Ashleigh asked.

  “We have visitors.” I pointed to Aubrey Morrow, Everly’s aunt, and her daughter, Hartly. Both females had dark hair, blue eyes, and golden skin. Today they wore dresses made of ivy and flower petals.

  “Um... I’m not seeing anyone,” Ashleigh said.

  She wasn’t? “One is Hartly, an apple baby, like Ophelia. She communes with animals. The other is her mother, Princess Aubrey of Airaria. She ate the apple. Now the two serve as guardians of the forest.”

  “More apple babies,” Ashleigh breathed. “I went from knowing none to learning about three.”

  I bowed my head to Hartly, then her mother. I’d seen them before, and I’d apologized, but I still felt the urge to announce, “I’m sorry.” I hadn’t just killed the girl. I’d killed the man she loved.

  Warick, the former king of the trolls, had done everything in his power to save her, before I’d gutted him.

  I’d tried to make restitution, paying for this stable to protect her tree as well as Farrah’s prison. But how could one ever make amends for such a crime?

  As many times as I’d seen Hartly, she’d never responded to my apology. She’d only ever smiled at me, as if all were forgiven, no reparation necessary. A concept that baffled my mind. Today, she arched a brow, cast a pointed glance at Ashleigh and wiggled her brows. Then she surprised me further, hiking her thumb to the right.

  I followed the direction with my gaze, curious about what I’d find—I had to do a double take. Warick. He was here. Tall, powerfully built, with horns, tusks, and a wealth of scars. He strode to Hartly’s side and slung an arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, radiating contentment, as if to tell me I could finally forgive m
yself.

  I don’t know how the spirits had bound the troll’s essence to the forest, but I would be forever grateful that they had.

  Hartly mouthed something that might have been, The time nears. Soon the coffin will crack, Farrah’s true love returning. Or maybe she’d said “Truly” instead of “true love.” Farrah and Truly had loved each other dearly. If Truly was returning, then the coffin would indeed crack. I would get to see my friend again.

  “Why are you trusting me with all this information, Saxon?” Ashleigh asked softly.

  “Many reasons.” I doubted she’d believe more than a handful of them.

  “I know you consider me two different people now, and that’s wonderful, I think, maybe, but Leonora is still inside me, still listening. If she were to do something...to tell someone...”

  She feared I would blame them both? “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.” We’d have to. “You’re going to be returning to this stable often, and I don’t want you surprised by anything you find. Now you know what should be here and what shouldn’t.” I nodded a goodbye to the others, then led the princess out of the room, grabbed a blanket and the bag with our supplies, and strode outside.

  As we placed the food on the blanket, the dragons flew circles in the sky above, Ophelia’s spell keeping them hidden from prying eyes, even up there. I’d paid good gold to ensure no avian could spot the area from the air.

  “Among the avian, there’s a custom,” I said as I smeared strawberry jam on a piece of crusty bread. “When a couple is alone, one feeds the other by hand.”

  She perked up with interest. “What does this custom signify?”

  “That the two bear deep affection for one another.” I offered the bread to her, hoping she would understand. That she wanted what I wanted.

  She looked at the bread, then me. The bread. Me. Understanding warred with nervousness before my cunning princess leaned over to bite into the bread while I held it.

  Satisfaction rumbled inside me, a storm soon to break. She’d understood, and she’d accepted.

  When Ashleigh offered me a grape in return, I accepted the fruit with my mouth. As I chewed and swallowed, she smiled down at her lap, beaming with pleasure. Pleasure I had given her with a simple act of affection.

  The rumble of satisfaction I’d felt a moment ago? The one that signaled the approach of a storm? The storm hit, contentment raining through me. Winds of peace came rushing in, spinning all around me, walling me in a center of calm. This girl...

  She was the rain, and she was the wind.

  I basked in the moment...until the dragons landed at the edge of the blanket. Pagan dropped the rat she’d killed, and Pyre roasted it with a thin stream of fire.

  I smothered a sound, half groan, half laugh.

  While Pyre jumped up and down with eagerness, Pagan picked up the charred body with her teeth and offered it to Ashleigh.

  “Oh, sweet goodness,” she muttered, flattening a hand on her belly. “That’s, um, such a good job, babies. Your hunting and cooking expertise is, um, commendable. But a mother never takes food from her children. She always gives. So, I gift these remains back to you. Please, my darlings, eat up.”

  Pagan seemed to shrug before jerking back her head to toss the rat into the air and catching it with her mouth.

  Ashleigh looked horrified as she clapped, and I fought a grin. I clasped her hands and kissed one of her palms, then the other.

  Her breath caught. She peered at me, and I peered at her. Amusement was supplanted by heat. We stared at each other, breathing each other in.

  A dragon bumped into her, the moment shattering.

  I looked away. “Let’s get to work,” I suggested.

  “Y-yes. Let’s.”

  As we cleaned the stable one stall at a time, I rushed over to carry anything I considered too heavy for her. So, everything. All the while, she sang under her breath, and it wasn’t long before I was grinning wide, unable to stop. The girl couldn’t hold a tune, but she evinced such joy, I wanted to listen to her forever.

  “I think the babies will be happy with their new home,” she told me with a satisfied nod.

  “I will guard their happiness with my life,” I vowed, and everything about her softened.

  After the first couple hours of cleaning, Ashleigh grew fatigued, sweat beading on her brow. Never once did she complain.

  I took the canteen of water to her, unfastening the lid along the way.

  “A little more,” I urged as she drank.

  When she finished, I splashed some of the drops on my fingers and pressed them to her nape. She closed her eyes, a soft smile hovering at the edge of her mouth.

  “Thank you.” She met my gaze before rising on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

  As she bounded off, refreshed, I marveled. For each of my lives, I’d considered strength to be a test of physical fortitude. It had been an inexcusable mistake on my part. Ashleigh continued to prove herself more mentally and emotionally resilient than anyone I’d ever known. Including myself.

  There wasn’t a man alive who was worthy of her.

  We slipped into comfortable silence as we continued our work. When she hauled a wheelbarrow of old, moldy hay around the corner, disappearing from view, I approached a stalk of ivy growing over the wall to whisper, “I know you can hear me, Everly. Do me a favor and put one of your mirror gateways in the secret passage for my bedroom, and a mirror gateway to the secret passage in the stable. One needs to lead to the other.” Best to be clear with these apple babies. “I need this now. Pay the witch to position the mirrors, if you must, and I will reimburse you double.” I didn’t wish to waste time with negotiations on price. “Remind her I am given the friends and family discount.”

  “Um, to whom are you talking?”

  Well. I turned. Ashleigh stood in the stall door, her brow furrowed.

  When she glimpsed the plant, she smiled. “Oh, one of your foliage friends,” she said. “Hello, Ivy. I’m Ashleigh.”

  She thought I was embarrassed to be caught talking to a plant, and hoped to put me at ease, didn’t she?

  This girl... I grabbed the bag we’d brought, emptied it of everything but our clean clothes, then fit the strap across her chest and drew her against me. “You worked so hard, you earned a reward.”

  A dirt-smeared hand fluttered to her chest. “A reward? For me?”

  My voice deepened as I told her, “Yes. You. So wrap your arms around me.”

  19

  There’s nothing sweeter than true love’s kiss.

  Except a reunion with the one you miss.

  Ashleigh

  What an amazing day. I’d gone from the lowest of lows, when Leonora had so easily subdued me and stolen my first kiss, to the highest of highs, when Saxon made me the recipient of his deepest affections. He didn’t see me as Leonora anymore. Even without knowing I was possessed by a phantom, he saw me as Ashleigh. Just Ashleigh. And now he wanted to give me a gift, as if he hadn’t already given me the world?

  “I had fun today,” I told him, wrapping my arms around him as requested. “I’ve never cleaned anything with the help of another. I don’t need another reward. But I want it, so gimme.”

  A hungry glint lit his whiskey-dark eyes, sending shivers down my spine. “I have a feeling I’ll be giving you anything you ask for.”

  Mind-bending words. Deliciously husky tone.

  More shivers.

  He flicked his gaze to my lips, a frisson of heat passing between us. Would he kiss me?

  Did I want him to?

  More than anything.

  But he shook his head, as if he wished to scatter his thoughts, and placed one hand on the back of my head. He pressed the other against my lower back and spread his wings.

  A blink, and we were in the air. He flew me over the treetops, calling, “Pagan. Pyre
. Follow us.”

  As we soared through the sky, the dragons gave chase, and an unexpected laugh escaped me. For so long I’d toiled daily, doing my best to find the joy in my circumstances. Had I known this awaited me, I never would have stopped smiling.

  “You have an infectious laugh,” Saxon said.

  I do? “Thank you. And thank you for my gift. I love it.”

  “Oh, this isn’t your gift,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against mine. “We’ve got another ten minutes before we reach our destination.”

  Ten whole minutes in Saxon’s arms? How many presents was I getting today? “Will you tell me about avian society along the way?” My curiosity remained steadfast.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Well, why can’t a female rule the avian if she’s the oldest child? Even Fleuridian law allows this.” A fact my father had always lamented. I would have considered the avian more progressive.

  He rolled around a cloud, and I laughed again. “A law is a law as long as tradition demands it. The avian are nothing if not traditional, and tradition states an avian ruler must have Skylair blood, the male before the female.”

  “So Queen Raven can never rule alone because she doesn’t have a blood link to the Skylairs. She can only act as regent for you or Tempest?”

  “Correct.”

  “Do you even want the avian crown, though?”

  “No one else has ever asked me that question,” he mused. “I didn’t used to. Even though I knew I was Craven, even though I’d led the avian twice before, I thought to give up the crown and change my future. Then my father and brother died, and Craven was to be king once again. That was when I realized you’d have to be...dealt with. I decided I wouldn’t abandon my people when they needed me most. I owe them restitution I can never repay. Now I will kill anyone who tries to take the crown from me.”

  Ohhhh. He’d blamed himself for bringing Leonora into their midst twice before, setting the stage for the near extinction of their kind. He’d feared what she would do this time around.

  I could never allow the phantom to return to the Avian Mountains.