Reed slumped against the wall. “Sometimes there is no other choice. And no, mother didn’t want to be involved. She didn’t come to the ball tonight.”

Dell advanced on him. “Of course there’s another choice.” He looked to the door. “Why are Madran soldiers fighting royal guards?”

“The army has chosen their side.”

Dell deflated. Then Madra really was lost. His brother had won. With the army behind the rebels, Edmund had never had any chance to stop this fight.

“Where is Edmund?” he asked, meeting his brother’s pained gaze.

Reed pushed himself away from the wall. His stocky frame ambled across the room as he paced in front of the long table near the wall. Buckets of cutlery and stacks of plates lined the surface. Dell took in the room as he waited. It must have been where servants prepared to serve the royal family. A large cherry wardrobe sat partially open at the far end, the corner of an apron hanging out.

Normal. The room spoke of normalcy in the palace. Life went on, and soon these servants would serve a new king.

“Reed.” He grit his teeth. “No more stalling. Tell me where Edmund is. And the royal family.”

Reed’s feet froze, but he didn’t turn to face Dell. “Edmund was arrested at the ball. He’s being kept under guard in one of the rooms in the king’s wing.”

Dell’s mind tried to process Edmund’s captivity. He’d be no help to them now. But Len… “And the royal family?” He swallowed past the thickness in his throat.

Reed finally turned, darkness swirling in his gaze. “Ian has… plans for them.”

A whimper came from the direction of the wardrobe, and both men paused, listening for any other sound. Footsteps stomped through the hall outside the door amid shouting voices, but the soft cry was all they focused on.

Reed approached the wardrobe cautiously and pushed the door open wider. He reached in between the hanging aprons and uniforms. A high pitch yelp sounded as he pulled a young boy free.

Dark curls fell over wide eyes as the boy tried to pull away from Reed.

Recognition sparked in Dell. “Your Highness.”

Fire entered the boy’s gaze, and he lifted his quivering chin, trying to be tough even as he stood before them in a child’s sleeping gown. “Unhand me.”

“You heard the kid.” Dell put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Let him go.”

Reed loosened his grip.

“I am Kassander Rhodipus,” the young prince stated. “Are you going to kill me?”

“We don’t kill children.” Reed pressed his fingers against his closed eyes.