A Kingdom of Glass and Fyre Read online

  A Kingdom of

  Glass and Fyre

  Ella Diane

  A Kingdom of Glass and Fyre© Copyright © > E.D. Lee

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination

  or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any

  actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or

  locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated

  by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison

  and a fine of $250,000.

  For more information, email [email protected]

  ISBN: 979-8-9858504-0-6

  To my Father, who supported

  writing as my choice for a career,

  I told you I could do it.

  Trigger Warning- the following material does contain scenes of Sexual Assault, followed up by scenes of healing and the process that goes along with it.

  A Kingdom of

  Glass and Fyre

  Book One

  Ella Diane

  Prologue

  Her sage eyes were wide as the deep shadows surrounded her, lurking closer with every haunting step. They danced and bounced as their form took shape, animalistic and dark. To her surprise, they didn’t move to attack her, instead prowling around her as if they were protecting her. The way they moved and lounged around her narrow waist, it was like they were seduced by her scent.

  Cress slowly stepped forward, into them. They embraced her and stood by her side as she lifted her hands and the blue ember within ignited.

  “My little Fyre Fox.” The man behind her murmured, a growl rumbling in her ear. He stood behind her, nearly the same height and she could smell him, juniper and smoke, leather and darkness. His hand fell upon one of the shadow wolves and it vanished into nothing, like sand on the wind in the middle of a storm.

  “Nothing can harm you as long as you know deep down you have the strength to protect yourself.” His rough hands followed the length of her arm, over those long scars that she had brought upon herself, nearly faded and gone, down to her lit hand. The fyre still lit, he slid his fingers into hers, under it. Instead of flinching at the heat or crying out, his shadows pulsed out of his hand, wriggled in delight, as if they enjoyed her heat, as if they were home. But that’s exactly where she was, home.

  Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  A sneak peek into Crown of Shadow and Smoke

  Houses and their members

  A Kingdom of Glass and Fyre pronunciation guide

  Special thanks to:

  Behind the Story

  About the Author

  1

  It was a beautiful and mild summer day, the sun streamed down as it kissed Cress’s skin, she basked in its warmth. Summers were short and she hated the cold winters that were long and frightfully bare. Children ran between their parents’ legs, darting from one side of the crumbled street to the other, chasing the stray dogs that roamed through the busy town.

  They made the Princess miss her youthful days when she could do whatever she wanted and could get away with it.

  Her life now came with the duties and responsibilities that the young royal woman of Aoedin must do. Ones she held great distaste for. She and her sister knew well of the tasks that being the daughter of a King required.

  Perhaps it was the way that her father was overbearing on her, or perhaps it was the way that her mother never seemed to care, but Cress never liked following the rules. Stand up straight, use the right dinner fork, never talk with your mouth full of food. Such simple things that mattered in the royal house when you were of royal blood. It was hard being the eldest daughter of a King, being expected to be practically perfect in every way, with all the eyes of the court and village watching. Not to mention the neighboring Kingdoms that were priming their sons for her to one day choose as her husband. Not that she wanted one, they would command her and restrain her from the way she wanted to be. It never sounded appealing.

  Her father wasn’t exactly the easiest to please either. He wanted her to be the perfect Princess. Cress knew that she would never be, and never wanted to be perfect in any way, not with her sister doing anything and everything to please her father.

  Cress’s laced black boots clicked on the stone pavement as she wandered down to the bright Bazaar that occurred every fifth day of the week. Cress loved the Bazaar, with all its wonderful noises and amazing scents that filled her nose with paprika and cumin. Merchants would sail in with items from all over the world that would excite her.

  Her favourite booth was run by a woman nicknamed Mama Bluebird, which was appropriate since she never seemed to wear anything but blue. Light, medium, dark or even silvery blue.

  Cress approached her booth as her walking halted, admiring the line of stories yet to be told upon the old woman’s withered hands.

  “Hello Mama Bluebird, what do you have to sell to me today?”

  Cress leaned over the booth, taking in all the marvelous paper adventures that lay before her, waiting to be opened and explored. Mama Bluebird smiled and held up a red book from the counter behind her, the gold title brandishing in the light.

  Cress squinted, trying to read the title as the woman in front of her shifted some other books around, her hands gentle. The Princess took the worn book and flipped open the pages, skimming to see what it had in store for her. A good adventure was always worth a try if it appealed to her within the first few words that her eyes fell upon. There was such fascination with printed words on a page that brought her undeniable joy. Nothing was better than diving into a story for a few hours and leaving reality behind.

  “A wonderful tale of romance and revenge.” Mama Bluebird smiled, her age hinted through the wrinkles that framed her eyes and lips.

  Mama Bluebird always seemed to have lived more than one life. She was wise beyond her years and knew more than anyone living one life ever could.

  “How much would you want for it?”

  Cress flipped the book closed and tucked it into her brown satchel by her side. It would be joined by other wonders from the world, which fascinated the girl in ways she could not explain. Cress loved
little odds and ends that had no home, she felt they belonged with her, out of place and out of time.

  “Five runes.”

  The Princess smiled and handed the old woman five gold coins, the currency of the Kingdom. Mama Bluebird gently picked each coin out of her soft hands and dropped them in a hand-spun clay jar by her side.

  “Have a good day, Mama Bluebird!” Cress sauntered down the street, humming a soft tune as she admired the rest of the colorful tents that lined her little Kingdom that she called home. The wind began to blow and the salty sea could be caught on the tip of the wind, the bay not far from where the Bazaar was located.

  There were many other booths that caught her attention, but Cress stopped at three of her other favourites, the owners familiar with her as a regular.

  “Hello, Lady Cress, how are you today?” A man’s thick accent greeted her and she smiled brightly, enjoying the wind that brushed past her, ruffling her hood. “I’m well, thank you for asking, Gregor. How is your wife?”

  The small man opened his mouth into a grin, showing what few teeth he had. Gregor had married another vendor, and they were expecting a child soon. Cress would sneak some of her old toys to them every few Fridays and it had given her a reason to visit the sweet man.

  “She is very close to giving birth. Thank you for everything you’ve done, Lady Cress.” The Princess reached into her bag, pulling out a small stuffed creature. Gregor’s sterling grey eyes smiled as he reached out with his shaking hands to take it.

  “This was my favourite when I was a little girl, it got me through thunderstorms and harsh weather. I hope your child will find a use for it.” Cress admired the spices that lay before her, picking up a can of mint and giving it a whiff.

  She went to grab a few runes, but Gregor shook his hands in her face, insisting that she take it in exchange for the kindness she had shown to him and his family.

  “Do you know what the child will be yet?”

  Gregor shrugged, “My wife wants a girl, but I will be happy as long as they both survive.”

  “They’ll both be fine. Write to me if you need anything from me.”

  She waved and walked through the bustling streets, weaving between the crowds of people that also found the circus of merchants and goods interesting enough to stop and take a look.

  The last booth that Cress wanted to visit was full of random items, such as clocks, old candle holders and pens with colorful ink. Using her arm to test the colors, she picked a silver ink and purple ink that would be beautiful for letters. Her handwriting was terrible, but a little color would make that less noticeable - she hoped. It was dreadfully unusual for a lady of a high title to have horrible handwriting.

  Paying seven runes for each, she gently placed the neatly wrapped parcels into a pocket of her bag so they wouldn’t spill everywhere, ruining her other purchases for the day. People smiled, and those who recognized her bent down in a small curtsy as she passed. Her cloak gave her some hidden identity but not enough from those who truly knew her family.

  The dust from the streets had stuck to the hem of her blue dress and covered her boots, a reminder of the place that was a second home to her.

  Cress took one last inhale of spiced air before deciding that she had had enough for the day. She always looked forward to the next week, when she could travel down again to enjoy the surprises the Bazaar always held for her.

  It was nearly night when the Princess wandered home with her satchel full of fresh fruits that she’d never heard of before and stories just waiting to be opened and explored thoroughly. Since her father never approved of her going anywhere outside the castle gates without a royal guard by her side, she always slipped through the servant’s door on the left side of the looming castle that rested on the top of the hill.

  Mountains kissed the backside of Myrik’s castle, rocky and rough. The Princess could spend hours laying in the grass fields, just staring at the beautiful peaks and hills that surrounded the Kingdom. Occasionally her sister would find her and scoff at the absurdity of a royal laying “where the dirt was.”

  If anyone understood Cress, it was the servants. The cook would slip her little sweets, the maids would leave chocolates on her pillow when they made up her bed, and the grooms would braid her horse’s hair with little flowers to make her smile.

  There was one groomer who was new, Cress could never remember his name, not that she cared to know. He ignored her and didn’t seem to care about anything but himself and the horses.

  Sometimes Cress wished that she could become a servant and join their world, even if it would just be a day. Perhaps that’s why she enjoyed the Bazaar so much, it gave her a chance to be normal and to fit in.

  The dinner bell interrupted her thoughts and her eyes widened as she realized just how late she was and the clothes that she currently wore. With haste, Cress jumped up the stairs to her room, peeling off her dusty dress and cloak that had allowed her to blend in, and rapidly shoved herself into the green dining gown that had been laid out on her ridiculously large bed for her by the servants.

  Her satchel lay on the floor, forgotten for the moment, and all her little fun things that lay within.

  Cress groaned as she struggled to button her bodice up, but there was no time to call for a servant and make it down for dinner on time. Her fingers hurt as she pushed every little bead into their assigned hole all the way down her back, taking longer than she had hoped.

  Her red hair was a mess from her hood and the wind, but she wasn’t able to do anything more than yank at it with a comb until it was frizzy. Cress grumbled and grabbed a ribbon, folding the strands over each other into a loose braid, finishing it off with a green ribbon from her table.

  She stood up, brushed off her dress and made a quick stop at a nearby mirror to see how she looked. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. She shrugged. It would have to do for now, she didn’t have time to do better, and there really wasn’t any way to make her hair look good, in her opinion. The Princess hated the color of her hair, who would like it when it was the ghastly color of rust?

  There was no point in changing her shoes, they wouldn’t be seen under her green floor-length gown. She heard the dinner bell ring again, two out of the three times that it would before everybody would be seated to dine.

  Everyone included her parents, her sister, herself and an empty chair for her missing brother. Cress loathed family dinners, but as a royal family, it was required for them to dine together and hold the image of a family.

  Finnick was supposed to return three months ago, but no one knew where he was, and it had caused quite a toll on their mother. Cress couldn’t remember the last time her mother had smiled or even spoke up, but it had been before Finnick had left for war.

  Finnick was by far the favourite, being the only male heir and all. If it hadn’t been for the pirates that attacked the shore and pillaged villages, causing a war, her father said - Finnick might never have left.

  The dinner bell rang once more, the last time, urging everyone to seat themselves to eat. Cress took a big breath and began to make her way to the dining room.

  2

  The Princess stumbled down the stairs, through the corridor with all its tapestries of stories and legends, the portraits of old people, her ancestors and lineage, into the main hall where she stood up as straight as she could manage, and walked as gracefully as possible into the ornate dining room.

  Her mother and father glided to their seats, dressed in splendid reds and golds, the colors of their great house of Glass. Her mother’s hand was in his as he led her to her seat and helped her sit.

  Queen Arabis was a stunning woman with curls for miles of spun red-gold, a color that Cress envied and very much desired.

  Her father, King Eryx, on the other hand, was not an attractive man. He cared for power, and only for power, and the way the harsh lines had sunk into hi
s skin showed just how much he worked to gain it over the years. Cress could never explain why, but there was something about the sneer he always wore and his brown eyes that made her shiver unpleasantly. No one could make brown look colder than her father when he was angry. He always seemed to be angry with her, too, for reasons she understood and for reasons that she didn’t.

  Cress’s eyes fell to Finnick’s place across from her, a sad feeling flickering up in her chest. Finnick had always been there to protect Cress from her father’s disapproving ways, and now she had to sit and take it.

  “Father dearest, I was wondering if we might go for a ride tomorrow.”

  Cress immediately sunk deeper into her velvet seat as her younger sister entered the room, ruining her mood for the rest of the night. King Eryx shifted his gaze to the woman across from them, making her way to the table to eat. Enter another favourite child, the perfect daughter. Between all three, it had never been a competition of who her father’s favourite was.

  Lamia had always been the golden child, with her perfectly straight brown hair and brown eyes, a perfect image of her father in female form; she even had the uptight attitude locked down.

  Her mother’s green eyes and strawberry blonde hair went straight to Cress, but Finnick was a mix of both. All the maids got so flustered when he was around. Murmuring about his shaggy brown hair and wonderfully kind green eyes. Finnick had definitely broken more than a few of the servants’ hearts when he left to fight. He always could make Cress laugh at the wrong times, he had a wonderful knack for getting them into trouble too.

  “If Cressida joins us, then yes, it would be a delight.” Cress looked up from the empty bowl that lay in front of her. Her father never called her by the name she preferred, only stupid Cressida, a mouthful to say and a name she dreaded. Why they never called her Cress was beyond her imagination, and she had plenty of it to spare.

  Lamia rang a bell to call for the food to be brought in so they could begin to eat. Dinner was usually four courses, starting with a broth, followed by a meat, and then a platter of fruits and vegetables and ending with some sort of sweet.