Rebel's Honor(69)

As if sensing her turmoil, Axel glanced over at her and smiled-the  sardonic grin she loved so much. It was instantly calming. The smile  faded as he gestured to a table draped with a red cloth near the altar.

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 gavel 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.