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

by Gwynn White

  On it sat the ugliest crown Lynx had ever seen. Not that she had seen too many crowns, despite being the daughter of a king. This serpentine thing was the smaller companion to the winged body of the Avanov Dragon Lukan wore on his brow.

  Axel picked it up and nodded, her signal to join him at the wooden rail beneath the emperor’s throne. It was time for her coronation as Crown Princess of all Chenaya and the Conquered Territories.

  Her stomach writhed at the prospect of having that hideous thing anywhere near her head. Wearing the Dragon was an affront to everything she believed. Still, it was unavoidable, so she would acquiesce without a murmur—until the day came when she destroyed the Dragon and all it represented.

  Slowly, carefully, lest she trip over her stupid skirt in her even stupider heels, she made her way to the red cushion on the floor below the rail where Mott stood.

  Axel smiled at her again and made a small bunching gesture with his hands. She guessed he was remembering the last time she had worn a floor-length Chenayan dress. She returned his smile. Who could have guessed that day on the train that she would fall so helplessly, so painfully in love with him? And he for her.

  She reached the railing. Axel joined her, carrying the crown. They bowed to the emperor, and Lynx knelt on a red cushion. The emperor swept the crown off its cushion and held it high above her head.

  Then he bellowed, “Princess Lynx of Norin, as wife of His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Lukan, I declare you Crown Princess of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories.” With no thought to gentleness, he rammed the diadem onto her head.

  Lynx staggered under the impact as the Dragon’s malevolent face crushed the skin in the middle of her forehead. But her cry of pain was lost in a louder shriek.

  Eyes wide, Lynx watched a bloom of red spread across Emperor Mott’s golden tunic. Mouth now moving soundlessly, hand grasping at the quarrel embedded in his heart, Mott collapsed. His head hit the marble floor with a crack, but from the expression in his glassy eyes, the emperor felt no pain.

  Almost in slow motion, Lynx saw Lukan rise from his throne. She turned to Axel to ask what was happening but didn’t get to speak.

  Axel was already moving. He hit her side with the full strength of his body. She reeled to the floor with him on top, her cry of shock muffled by the cold marble tiles. Caught in yards of gold silk, it took her a moment to scramble upright.

  And then she screamed.

  * * *

  Axel felt the quarrel rip through his brigandine and pierce his back—the target he offered to Morass with the least chance of an instantly lethal shot. Lying on Lynx, he staggered to all fours, trying to stand, but his legs seemed to have lost the will to obey.

  Then pain hit him. A burning so sharp he could have sworn a blacksmith had stabbed his back with a shaft of molten steel. Despite his desire to fight it, his body sagged and then crumpled to the floor next to Lynx.

  Through the haze of burning, he heard rapid boot falls and grimaced a smile. Stefan was on hand, as reliable as the sunrise. He and his band of his men rushed forward to protect Lynx. Before they could do so, he had to persuade her to obey them.

  Face in a rictus of terror, she fell down next to him. “Axel! Axel! Speak to me!”

  He forced his lips and tongue to move. “G-go with Stef. H-hide. T-they want to . . . kill you. My . . . father. Lukan.” He gasped, but the air burned like embers in his lungs. “Found out . . . lair—” His mouth stumbled, his tongue feeling like he was dragging it through molasses.

  Lynx leaned down and kissed him full on the lips. “I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

  He wanted to plead with her to go, but his mind couldn’t seem to hold on to the thoughts. In the distance, he heard the wedding guests shouting.

  Another voice, sharper, desperate. “Come on, Lynx. Now.” Malika. His sister tugged Lynx away, but she held on tight to his arm.

  “Your brother! He’s dying!”

  “He loves you with all his heart.” Malika sobbed. “Show your love by saving yourself—or his sacrifice is wasted.”

  “We can’t leave him here! He needs help.”

  “Trust me, he will get it.” Stefan’s voice, cool and collected. “But first, he instructed me to get you away from here before another quarrel flies. You would not deny him that, would you?”

  Another kiss, and Lynx slipped her hands from Axel’s arm. She called her sister’s name. Kestrel answered, running along behind Lynx, Malika, and Stefan. They broke through Stefan’s line of guardsmen, armed with drawn crossbows, which now divided the royal family from the crowd. A few of them broke ranks to escort Lynx to safety.

  Every cell in his back burning, Axel closed his eyes. His last thought as he slipped into unconsciousness was that someone else would have to save Treven.

  * * *

  Caught between rising and sitting on his throne, Lukan forced his frozen muscles to move, to turn to face Felix.

  Felix!

  The only one who could have betrayed him, the only person who knew he had commanded Morass to wait until after his address to the high-born before cutting Lynx down.

  Up on the dais, Felix sat rock still. Then, his waxy face seemed to crumble as fierce keening split the air. The sound rode high above the clamor and screams coming from the wedding guests. His uncle staggered to his feet and stumbled down the stairs. He ran to Axel and flung his frail body down where Lynx had lain just moments before.

  “My son, my son,” Felix moaned, with the despair only a father who knew his child was beyond help could muster. “Why this?”

  Lukan was under no illusions about Norin hatred. What Norin king would hand over his coveted antidote to save an Avanov? Especially if one of his raiders had died in the procurement of the poison. Thorn was Lynx’s father, but that didn’t mean he would grant something so outrageous to his child. Lukan’s father wouldn’t have.

  It was just reward for all Felix’s conniving.

  But . . . but how could Axel have known about the plans to kill Lynx? He had to have known because he had thrown himself in the path of her quarrel.

  Lukan’s stomach clenched. Could he ever love like that?

  His eyes flickered to his father, lying unmourned in his own gore. This . . . this ice in my heart is all your fault. And now you’ve paid for all of it.

  Another thought hit him. Now was the moment, his chance to speak to the high-born, if he could just call them to order. Shaking, heart pounding, he slid his way across the bloody floor to the altar. He picked up the gavel and looked out over the crowd.

  Everyone was on their feet, shouting and screaming as they stumbled around overturned chairs in their panic. Some headed for the exit, already jammed with people trying to flee. Others stood together in clumps, mouths agape as if they could not believe what they had just witnessed.

  Lukan’s courage failed him. This was not the right time to add to the mayhem by making any announcement about the gemstones.

  His eyes trailed to Morass. The assassin had opened the door to the hatch before the shootings, but the dark space seemed empty. Morass had vanished.

  Felix. Again. Of course his uncle would have commanded Morass to flee, taking with him the evidence of Lukan’s part in this regicide. No doubt Felix intended to blackmail Lukan with Morass for the rest of his life. Worse, with a little tweak here, a little tweak there, Felix must have also programmed Morass to kill Lynx before he made his speech.

  Now the guardsman was gone, and Lukan could never prove his innocence to her in Axel’s shooting. Anger more potent than anything Lukan had every experienced flooded through him. He dropped the gavel and spun, boot extended, ready to kick Felix.

  The sharp rap of the gavel striking the altar rocked the hall. “Silence! I will have order!”

  As the crowd stilled, Lukan looked up to see Tao standing tall and regal with the gavel in his hand. Lukan’s jaw sagged in disbelief. His brother dared to step into his leadership role? He stumbled forward, ready to snatch the gav
el away.

  Tao dropped to his knees before him, shouting, “The emperor is dead! Long live the emperor!”

  Slowly, perhaps reluctantly, the crowd took up the cry. As it built in momentum, Lukan swallowed. His brother was right; he was Emperor of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories. The man everyone claimed was too weak to rule.

  Oh, would he show them all!

  He straightened his back, brushed imaginary lint from his breeches, and turned to face his subjects.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Lynx paced the tiny cell in Mother Saskia’s cloister, where Stefan had brought her, Malika, and Kestrel. Hiding here went against her every instinct, but Stefan had told her it was Axel’s wish.

  How could she disobey?

  Axel had stepped in front of a quarrel for her. The depth of his love left her humbled—and furious. Furious they could not be together and even more livid that he could die while she paced here helplessly. Stefan had left immediately, promising to return with news of Axel and Lukan.

  From the bed, Lynx could feel Kestrel’s glares burning her back but ignored them.

  Kestrel thumped her hands down onto the bed. “It was my wedding, supposed to be the best day of my life, and you all ruined it for me.”

  “We ruined it for you?” Malika jerked her tear-stained face toward Kestrel. “We saved you. The next quarrel could have been yours.”

  Kestrel folded her arms across her chest. “I’m a loyal subject of the crown. No one would harm me. And I don’t believe anyone would want to harm Lynx, either.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Malika hissed. “You don’t know how tempted I am right now. And my brother is dying because he took that quarrel to save her.”

  “How much longer do we stay here?” Lynx asked, not wanting to listen to them argue.

  “Until Stefan returns,” Malika said in a firm voice that belied her trembling shoulders.

  Kestrel jumped up off the mattress. “Where is Tao? What could be more important than looking after his wife?”

  “You do know his father has just been murdered?” Malika snapped. “He must be up to his ears in politics right now. The whole court must be in an uproar.”

  Kestrel stamped her foot. “Then I repeat, what could be more important than looking after his wife?”

  Malika opened her mouth to retort, but Lynx cut her off. “Did Axel tell you what he planned?”

  Malika’s mouth closed with an audible click. She turned to Lynx with a distraught expression. “Last night, while he was looking for you, he saw footage of Lukan talking to the assassin in the lair. They were discussing plans to kill you as well as the emperor. He tried to change the programming, but my father stopped him.” Malika wrung her skirt as tears flowed freely down her face. “Once my brother failed, there was no stopping him. Nothing Stefan and I could say would change his mind.”

  “Why didn’t he come to me last night? Didn’t he see footage of me being taken to the cloister?”

  “He did, but he knew you’d be safe because my father commanded Mother Saskia to protect you.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why he didn’t come to me.”

  Malika looked up at Lynx with bloodshot eyes. “He was scared you would talk him out of it, if you knew. And he was so . . . distracted, you would have known something was wrong.”

  “He’s right. I would have stopped him,” Lynx said. Then she paused. “Mali, I’m worried about one thing.”

  “Just one?”

  Lynx managed a wan smile. “Axel’s lips—they were turning blue. Did you see that?”

  “Between your kisses? To be honest, no. Anyway, what does that matter?”

  Even Kestrel perked up, taking an interest. “My sister knows quarrel wounds.” She turned to Lynx. “Blue lips aren’t typical, are they? Not unless . . .”

  Lynx and Kestrel exchanged frowns.

  Malika leaped to her feet. “Unless what?”

  Lynx ran her hands over her face before speaking. “I—I don’t know. It shouldn’t be possible . . . but yet—”

  “What?” Malika’s voice spiked.

  “Tell her, Lynx,” Kestrel said. “It’s her brother. As annoying as she is, she has the right to know.”

  Malika glared at Kestrel and then faced Lynx.

  Lynx took Malika’s hand but continued speaking to Kestrel. She wanted facts before saying anything to further upset Axel’s sister. “How would Felix and Lukan have gotten hold of it? That’s what’s making me doubt.”

  Malika pulled her hand away and dug her nails into Lynx’s arm. “Stop protecting me. Kestrel’s right. He’s my brother, and I love him as much as you do.”

  “Did Axel say anything to you about poisoned quarrels?”

  Malika looked from Lynx to Kestrel. “No. Why?”

  “Nothing to Stefan?”

  “I don’t know. Please, Lynx, what’s going on?”

  Lynx pulled away from Malika, darted to the door, and started pounding on it. If she was right, Axel needed her right away. “Mother Saskia! Open up. I have to speak to Lukan and Felix. Urgently.” She turned to Malika. “Blue lips and extremities are telltale signs of murghi, a Norin poison. It slows the heart, addles the mind, and then paralyzes the limbs. After that, death is sure.” Lynx lowered her voice to a grim tone. “It has stood for centuries between Norin and destruction by you Chenayans.”

  Malika blanched.

  Lynx pounded on the door again. “Mother Saskia! Winds! Where is this woman?”

  The door flew open, making Lynx jump back.

  “Your Majesty?” Mother Saskia bowed low.

  Lynx blinked, wondering to whom she was referring. Then, she remembered. Mott was dead. That made Lukan emperor, and by default, it made her empress.

  She brushed the title aside. “I have to speak to Lukan and Felix about Axel.”

  The priestess looked doubtful. “It’s not safe.”

  “That can’t be helped.” Lynx pushed past Saskia but, in her haste, tripped over her skirt and high heels. “Dragon’s arse. Someone give me a knife.”

  Mother Saskia hesitated and then obeyed, handing Lynx her stumpy dagger. Lynx grabbed a handful of fabric and bent down, stabbing the dress just above her knee. Then, she hacked away at the silk.

  Mother Saskia hissed. “Your Majesty, generations of crown princesses have worn that dress.”

  “There won’t be any more crown princesses if I have anything to do with it,” Lynx said, relishing the screech of tearing silk. She stepped over the mound of discarded fabric with bare feet. “Where will I find them?”

  The clatter of boots on stone drowned out anything the priestess may have said. Stefan stormed around the corner, skidding to a halt in front of Lynx. Fit as he was, his breath came in rasps.

  “Axel . . . he needs you. Come. Infirmary.”

  “Is Lukan there?” Lynx demanded, falling into step with him.

  “Felix, too. Axel’s been poisoned.”

  Skirt swaying, Malika ran after Lynx as she and Stefan raced down the passageway.

  As they rounded the corner, Lynx heard Kestrel shout from behind, “Don’t mind me!”

  Ignoring her petulant sister, Lynx ran on. The route to the infirmary took Lynx down different passages and halls, ones she had never seen before. In each one, people clumped, faces drawn and frightened, audible snippets of their conversation centered on the horror of the wedding. They dropped into deep bows as Lynx sprinted by. There would be no wedding party in the great hall tonight. Who celebrated the assassination of an emperor and the attempted murder of one of his heirs?

  Only the assassins. Lukan will pay for this if it’s the last thing I do.

  Breathing hard, she, Stefan, and Malika finally stopped outside a white door bearing the ubiquitous Dragon emblem. Stefan flung it open, and Lynx bolted in, dodging her way around beds filled with the sick and dying.

  A priestess looked up from a man she was tending. She bobbed a knee and then gestured to a closed door. “In there,
Your Majesty.”

  Lynx surged past Stefan and Malika and barged into a small private ward. Stark and utilitarian, it was furnished with only a single wooden bed, a chair, and a small table with a bowl of water, a cloth, and a heap of bloody bandages. Axel lay on his stomach, his clothing ripped open to expose his back. His father sat at his head, mopping his sweaty face. Lukan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest.

  Malika fell down next to Axel and took his hand. Stefan stayed close to Lynx’s side.

  Lynx gasped when she saw Axel’s face. Although his eyes were closed, his wildly fluttering eyelids and rambling moans all pointed to murghi. She gently lifted his other hand and swore. His fingers were blue up to the first knuckles.

  She turned to Lukan. “The poison. How did you get it?”

  Felix answered. “That is unimportant. What matters now is to heal him.”

  Lynx agreed. Still, she folded her arm. Murghi in the hands of the enemy was devastating for Norin. While she would do anything to save Axel, she also had to protect her tribe. That meant the destruction of all stocks in Chenayan possession. Axel was the only bargaining chip she had. Surely, Felix wouldn’t hesitate to answer her questions if he believed she might not save his son? She meant to, of course, but Felix wouldn’t know that.

  She thrust her chin at the Lord of the Household. “Answer my question.”

  Felix stood. “My son sacrificed himself for you, and this is how you repay him . . . by arguing details?”

  “That sacrifice would not have been necessary had it not been for the two of you.” Lynx turned icy eyes on Lukan.

  Lukan’s mouth dropped. “Don’t include me in this. I was as shocked as you were when that second quarrel hit.”

  Liar! Dismissing him, she said to Felix, “The safety of my people is no mere detail.” She bit her lip, hating what she was about to say, but she knew Axel would not only understand but approve. “You want an antidote for your son’s poison, but it comes at a price—a full disclosure of how you got the murghi and how many stocks you hold.”