A sharp knock at the door announced the Kingsbreath’s arrival. He wore a burgundy suit trimmed in black, the polished hilt of his sword glinting at his hip.
“I’m pleased to see you’re holding up your end of the bargain,” he said approvingly.
Rose glared at him. “Is my sister alive?”
“For now,” he said darkly. “I suggest you do as you’re told if you want to keep it that way.” He held out his arm. “Now come. It wouldn’t do to be late to your own wedding.”
43
Wren
Wren sat in the dungeons of Anadawn Palace, trying to rub the crick from her neck. After a night of tossing and turning on the damp stone ground—without the blanket she had been promised and with only the palace rats for company—morning had finally come. She was surprised to see it, but she wasn’t fool enough to think her luck would last much longer.
Overhead, she could hear the servants rushing about, preparing for the princess’s wedding. She could picture the honor guard being assembled in the courtyard while the Gevran guests left the palace in droves, making the short journey up the hill to the Protector’s Vault. Any minute now, Rose would be getting married and, soon after that, she would be on the first ship to Grinstad.
Stars. How had it all unraveled so quickly? Wren had to get out of here. Andfast.
A slant of sunlight reached Wren through the window in her cell. The window was high off the ground and guarded by thick iron bars that made escape impossible. Even so, she had been fantasizing about it all night.
She lingered at the door of her cell now and watched a rat skitter past. At the end of the damp stone passageway, the dungeon master was napping at his post. Finally.She crept back to the window and released a low whistle. It floated through the bars of her cage, soft and soaring as an owl’s call.
Wren paced her cell as she waited.
And waited. And waited.
And then—
Shen’s face appeared at the window. “So, last night went well, then.”
“Shh.” Wren jabbed her finger over her shoulder. “We have company.”
“You promised me a victory drink, Greenrock,” he whispered. “I waited at that bloody mill until dawn.”
Wren tapped her foot impatiently. “Can I get a little help in here, please?”
Shen passed a red rose through the bars. “Just make sure you tell your sister what a gallant hero I am. I’ve only just got on her good side and I want to stay there.”
“How you managed that after kidnapping her I will never know.” Wren ripped the head off the rose and crushed the petals in her fist. She tipped her chin to the bars, an incantation already gathering on her tongue. “My magic hasn’t exactly been behaving itself lately, so I would advise you to stand back. This could go horribly wrong.”
Shen disappeared in a breath of cool wind.
Wren flung the petals at the window, watching in satisfaction as the bars began to tremble. The iron slackened, and when Shen crept back into view, he bent them easily apart until there was a medium-sizedhole between them. “I was hoping for something a bit showier.”
“Then watch this.” Wren took a running jump at the wall. Her feet scrabbled against the stone as she flung her arms out, Shen catching her by the wrists. He pulled her up toward him, Wren wincing and cursing as she squeezed herself through the bars.
She got stuck halfway through.
Shen frowned. “What’s happened?”
“Cam’s almond cookies happened!” The morning breeze frittered about her face as though it were taunting her. “My hips are stuck.”
Shen did a poor job of holding in his laughter.
Wren glared at him. “Come on, warrior. Put your back into it.”
Wren shifted onto her side as Shen grabbed her upper arms, his face straining until a voice rang out behind him.
“Oi, you there! What do you think you’re doing?” A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and then another, as twelve palace guards quickly converged on Shen. He’d been so focused on helping Wren, he hadn’t sensed them and now it was too late. He released her with a curse and she fell with a thud. When she looked up, he was already being hauled away, his hands bound behind his back.