Page 36 of Twin Crowns

“Let go of me!” she shouted into the woods. “I want nothing to do with you!”

Another seed brushed her cheek, and an old woman barreled intoRose’s mind. Her face was impossibly wrinkled. “We’ll never disappear!” the woman cried in a hoarse voice as she marched barefoot across a charred field. A Valhart soldier in green and gold charged toward her, sword drawn. With a rallying scream, the old woman flung her hand out and sent a gust of wind spiraling into his chest. He was thrown backward, his sword flying from his grip. The old woman caught it and drove it cleanly into his neck. Twelve silver arrows pierced her body as she did. She turned back to Rose, blood pouring through her smile as she fell to her knees. “Eana’s rivers will run red with our enemies’ blood.” Another arrow knocked the old woman sideways. She fell into the dirt, the light fading from her eyes. “Not today. But someday.”

She died smiling.

Rose came out of the vision screaming. “Get these things off me! Make them stop!”

“This is your history, Princess. And it will be the future unless things change in this country.”

“This isn’t what I want!” Rose fell to her knees in the mud, trying to rip the vine off her ankle. Another tightened around her left arm. “No, please!”

She tried to bat away a drifting seed, but as she touched it, a new vision swept her up.

This time it was a boy. He was no more than ten, with golden curls and crooked teeth. He reached out to Rose, eyes pleading, as a soldier pierced his stomach with a spear. He died with the same word on his lips.Please.

Rose flinched as she came out of the vision. “He was just a child!” Bile rose in her throat as another vine seized her right arm. “And theykilledhim. They didn’t even hesitate!”

“Yes, Princess. Your great and noble Protector slayed our children, too.”

The forest was howling now. Rose bucked against the vines as the seeds found her, one after another, forcing their last moments into her mind. Men and women and children, of all ages and crafts, standing against a ruthless army and dying at its feet.

The army that would soon answer to Rose.

The forest knew who she was. What she stood for.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the last seed left her. The wind was low and keening now. The vines slithered away, and Rose curled up on her side in the mud, staring at nothing.

“Rose?” said Shen anxiously. He slid off his horse and came toward her, his footsteps light atop the soupy mud. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think there’d be—”

“So many of them,” said Rose numbly. “I never knew there were so many.”

Shen said nothing, but when he offered his knee, Rose took it. Once she was back on the horse, she sat in a daze. Shen nudged Storm into a trot, and they continued onward, through the creeping forest. The trees left them to their thoughts, and for a long time, both were silent.

When light began to filter through the branches and a curling mist crept into the Weeping Forest, Shen spoke again.

“Eighteen years ago, this forest saved the last of our kind when Lillith’s War turned in favor of Rathborne’s army. The witches retreated and hid among the trees. The spirits of those taken centuries before them, back in the Protector’s War, saved the ones still living. NoAnadawn soldier was brave enough to march through here to capture them.” His laughter was hollow now. “Consider yourself braver than your entire army, Princess.”

“I was a baby, Shen. I didn’t know.”

“But youdoknow. As custodian ofyourthrone, Willem Rathborne has made it clear that witches are no longer welcome in the land they planted. Made it clear what will happen if we dare show ourselves inside the kingdom of Eana. Imprisonment, then death.” Shen hardened his jaw. “These memories show what the future you claim you want will look like. Do you still want it, Princess? Even after everything you’ve seen here?”

The final moments of all those witches’ lives still swam in Rose’s head. An ocean of faces and fears, of last words on soundless lips. She knew she’d never forget them. Not a single one.

“All I’ve ever wanted is to do what’s best for Eana,” she said quietly.

“You have much to learn about the Eana you claim as your own.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Rose conceded.

The mist thickened, hiding the world beyond the trees. The vines stroked her cheeks and tangled in her hair, as though to pull her back. The wind wept. The seeds were drifting after her again, their flickering lights glowing in the fog. Rose squeezed her eyes shut. Her nerves were frayed and her thoughts were reeling. She needed to get out of this cursed place and gather a moment to herself. To think. Tobreathe.

Her eyes flew open, bright and burning. “I know what you want from me,” she said in a choked voice. “You want me to admit it.” She could hear their whispers in her ears, feel them tugging at her sleeves. “FINE! I’m a witch.” Her voice broke. “I’m awitch.”

The wind stopped, and all was still.

The mist parted, revealing the edge of the forest. Beyond it, across a rolling plain of wild grass, loomed the knife-edge of a cliff.

As they treaded onward, all Rose could see was endless gray sky. She tasted brine on the wind, salty and tangy on her tongue. Waves crashed somewhere far, far below. A seagull crested the edge of the cliff, looked straight at her, then disappeared with a screech.

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