Page 102 of Twin Crowns

“I willnotgo over this with you again, Rose.” Willem’s eyes flashed in warning. “You are marrying Prince Ansel and that is final.”

Rose stood her ground. “I want to become Queen and find my own suitable match when the time is right. One that is good for me and for my kingdom.”

“Rose, darling,” he said through his teeth, “you are simply having pre-wedding nerves. You will be a beautiful bride, and you will make me and your country proud. And more than that, you will make your dear parents proud. Now. We will not speak of this again. Am I understood?”

Rose squeezed her hands into fists, her fingernails cutting half-moons in her palms. She had stood up for herself and it wasn’t enough. What more could she do? With mounting despair, she realized how little control she had over her own life. She was no princess. She was a puppet. And Willem Rathborne would sooner ship her off to Gevra than cut her strings.

“Rose? Am I understood?”

Rose nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

“That’s my good girl. Now run along back to your fiancé. He’s waiting for you by the dance floor.”

Rose did not return to Ansel. Instead, she waited until Willem’s back was turned, then slipped out of the ballroom.

Once outside in the courtyard, she raced through the shadows until she reached the library. She burst inside in a panic. “Wren! Are you still in here? It didn’t work. We have a huge—Burning stars!”

Ansel’s personal guard had her sister pinned against the wall.

And her sister looked as if she was very much enjoying it.

No wonder he had acted so familiar with her in the courtyard! Rose had never seen anyone kiss like that—it looked as if they were trying to crawl into each other’s mouths. And he wasshirtless.And there were bookseverywhere. And glass. And splintered wood. And giant creeping roses!

Rose slammed the library door with a resounding bang.

They didn’t stop.

She picked up a book and flung it at the Gevran. “WREN!”

The soldier spun around, his eyes wide and darting.

“Oh,good,” said Wren, smoothing down her now very wrinkled dress. “It’s only you.”

“You’re lucky it’s me!” fumed Rose. “What if anyone else had walked in here? They... they would have thought I was you! Kissinghim!” She flung a finger at the Gevran. He had plucked his shirt from the floor and was fumbling over the buttons. “Think of my reputation!” Rose’s cheeks were bright and burning. “And what are you even doing kissing him anyway?”

Wren bit her lip. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

The soldier plucked his frock coat from the floor and shrugged it on. “I should go.” He nodded at Rose, his gaze lingering on Wren,before he slipped out of the library.

Rose turned on her sister. “I leave you for ten minutes, and the next thing I know you’re undressing the enemy!”

“Well. Only the top half,” Wren pointed out. “And Tor isn’t the enemy.”

“For all we know,Toris strolling back inside to tell Alarik that there are now two of us! And if that horrid king catches wind of this mess you made with your magic, you’ll be on the first ship back to Gevra!”

“Tor won’t say a word,” said Wren.

“And how do you know?” Rose paused. “Wait. Did you enchant him?”

Wren sighed. “I trust him, Rose.”

Rose threw her hands up. “Oh, well in that case we havenothingto worry about.”

“Leave the Gevran soldier to me,” said Wren calmly. “Now. Did you succeed in calling off the wedding?”

Rose cleared her throat. “I’m afraid there’s a better chance of Alarik feeding me to one of his beasts than agreeing to cancel the wedding.”

Wren collapsed into an overstuffed armchair. “So you failed. As I knew you would.”

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