“Are you… are you coming to my ball tonight?” She held her breath, hoping her new friend would stand at her side.

“Now that, dear Helena, I do not have a choice in. It’s an important night for you and my betrothal to your brother is to be announced.”

Helena’s steps faltered. “Are you… okay with everything?”

To Helena’s surprise, Camille laughed. “You mean my future husband being in love with Edmund? I have no illusions about love or fairytales. We princesses aren’t meant for such things. We secure alliances and consolidate power. We don’t fall in love.”

A sigh escaped Helena as she pushed open the door leading into the family wing. Camille’s words rang true, yet she’d always had an image in her mind of a man sweeping in gallantly and stealing the breath right from her lungs.

She froze as she came face to face with her father for the first time since the Madran games.

Red crept up his neck and a vein stood out in his forehead. Those were the only signs of his distress. The blue and red military uniform he insisted upon wearing was perfectly pressed and his thinning gray hair was combed over the side just like any other day.

“Helena,” he barked.

Camille reached out and gripped Helena’s hand, letting her know she wasn’t going anywhere.

The king advanced. “I sent someone to fetch you from the monastery. He returned only to tell me you were already gone. The priests were quite distraught at your disobedience.”

Helena lifted her chin, meeting her father’s gaze. “I needed to prepare for my ball, father.”

He stepped forward until his shadow loomed over her. “Your insolence is alarming, child. Make no mistake, this ball is but a formality. You will be given a Madran husband of great standing who will not abide by your churlish disposition.”

“What will you have them do, your Majesty?” she spat. “I’m already a prisoner within your walls. There is little they can take from me.”

The sting spread across her cheek before she realized he’d struck her with the back of his hand. She stumbled back, rubbing her face, as shouting erupted with the arrival of Cole and Stev from their rooms.

Stev ran to her side while Cole used his large frame to force their father back.

“You okay?” Stev asked, bending his head to examine her reddened cheek.

Helena nodded, angry tears burning her eyes.

“Don’t touch her,” Cole’s voice rose above the rest. “You’ve already destroyed Madra. You sent Quinn away. I won’t let you hurt Helena too.”

“Let me?” The king growled. “Helena disobeyed a two-hundred-year-old tradition when she revealed her face to the commoners. And then she escaped her punishment.”

Stev straightened and turned to their father. “She didn’t escape. I had her released.”