Page 21 of Twin Crowns

On their last day together in Ortha, Wren and Banba had waded out onto the sea-slimed rocks, a howling wind whipping up around them until it felt as if it was just the two of them pushing ceaselessly toward a new horizon.

“I would raze this whole world to the ground for you, little bird.”Her grandmother had pulled her close, her cloak scratchy against Wren’s cheek.“I would kill a thousand men and more just to keep you from harm, but the time has come to set you free. To send you home. Will you blaze a trail through those golden gates for your people? Will you blaze a trail for me?”

Banba had looked at her with such faith in her eyes, Wren had felt ten feet tall. In her, she had found not just a grandmother but a family. A way to belong to the country that had orphaned her. And so she had said, without hesitation,“I would do anything for you, Banba.”And she had meant it.

They had made the best of Ortha, but they were sick of it—all of them—of living on the edge of the world, mired in the cold and the damp, shouting over the wind just to be heard. Cowering beneath the cliffs whenever a storm rattled the coastline and always looking up, never knowing when they might be discovered. The witches deserved peace of mind. They deserved to live in a place that was truly theirs. After a thousand years of exile, Wren was going to welcome them home.

“Do whatever it takes to seize that throne, little bird. Eana will forgive you.”Banba had dulled the wind with a flick of her wrist, her hand closing around Wren’s as they turned for the shore.“I will forgive you.”

Wren rounded the corner at the end of the palace hallway and stopped dead in her tracks.Hissing seaweed!She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t recognize the Kingsbreath’s bedchamber until she was before it. Two burly soldiers stood guard, either side of the wooden doors. “Oi! Who’s that skulking down there?”

Wren’s stomach twisted. It was too late to turn back now—she had already been spotted. She rolled her shoulders back and relaxed herstride. “Good evening, gentlemen. I was just looking for Willem?”

The guard on the right, who was pale and freckled with a bright red beard, flicked his gaze to the other. “The Kingsbreath’s a bit, er, indisposed at the moment, Your Highness.”

His furtiveness piqued Wren’s interest. “Oh. How so?”

The guard on the left, black-haired and olive-skinned with dark circles under his eyes, raised an eyebrow. “It’s awful late to be wandering about the palace by yourself, Princess. Is something the matter?”

“I had a nightmare.”

The guards exchanged another look.

Wren pouted. “It was very scary.”

The bearded one caved. “The Kingsbreath’s just left,” he conceded. “You’d be better off heading down to the kitchens for some chamomile tea. Good for the nerves, my missus says.”

It was the perfect excuse for Wren to turn around and scurry away, but now she couldn’t help herself. “Where did he go?”

“Up to the west tower.”

“Ralph,” hissed the other one. “You’re not supposed to saywhere.”

“Burning stars, Gilly, it’s only PrincessRose.”

“Ah, yes, the west tower,” said Wren mildly. “I haven’t been up there in ages. Is there something I should know?”

Ralph’s cheeks went as red as his beard. “Nothing of note.”

“Certainly nothing for you to worry yourself about, Princess,” Gilly assured her. “There ain’t no threat that’d ever breach the palace walls withoutusknowing.” He winked. “We’re the best in the kingdom. Ain’t that right, Ralph?”

Ralph puffed his chest up. “Nothing gets past us, Princess.”

It was an effort for Wren to keep a straight face. “Well, thank the Great Protector, you two fine soldiers have everything perfectly under control. Perhaps I’ll sleep soundly tonight, after all.”

Gilly grinned toothily. “I should hope so. You’ll need your beauty sleep for the wedding.”

“Good night, gentlemen. Keep up the sterling work.”

The soldiers dipped their chins. “Good night, Princess.”

Wren spun around and strode down the corridor. The second she turned the corner, she flung caution to the wind and broke into a run. When she reached the hallway that led to the west tower, she heard the rumble of distant conversation. She slipped a pinch of sand from her drawstring pouch and uttered one of her well-practiced incantations.“From earth to dust, on this stone ground, may my footsteps make no sound.”The sand disappeared as it fell, taking the noise of her approach with it. She kept to the shadows as she crept closer.

“... not to breathe a word of my nightly visits here to anyone,” came a low, menacing voice. It raked along Wren’s skin, and she knew, without ever having heard it before, exactly whom it belonged to.

Rathborne.

The nearness of her parents’ murderer sent a shock of fear through Wren. She had been preparing to meet this man her entire life, and yet she was struck by the sudden trembling in her fingers, the rattle of her pulse in her ears.

---