Page 53 of Twin Crowns

Rose frowned. Shen had never shown her that kind of deference and she was his future queen. She hadn’t even thought him capable of such respect. She eyed Banba more carefully as Tilda came barreling toward them. Behind her, an older woman with warm brown skin and long white hair walked more slowly. She had generous curves and a round, kind face, and she wore a cloth patch over her left eye.

Tilda grabbed Rose’s hand. “Come on! We’ve all been waiting for you!” And though the familiarity of it felt strange to Rose, she was glad to find an ally on this beach. “The fire is high and the feast is ready!”

“Banba,” the other woman called out as she approached. “I hope you haven’t terrified your granddaughter but instead have welcomed her warmly, as she deserves.” Her voice was low and sonorous like a lullaby, and something about it made Rose feel strangely calm. “And I trust you’ve told her of the celebration feast we have prepared in her honor.”

Banba stiffened. “Do not tell me how to best welcome my own granddaughter, Thea.”

“I’ll take that to mean you’ve been scaring the wits out of her.” Thea reached for Rose’s free hand. Her skin was warm and soft, and Rose felt for the briefest moment as though the sun were rising in her chest. Her fingers tingled, and the ache in her wrist ebbed away. “It has been a long time, Rose. But it is good to see you again.”

Rose stared at the old woman, trying to place her. “We’ve met?”

“Come, let us eat. There is much to tell you.”

19

Wren

Wren’s shoesclick-clacked along the Eshlinn cobblestones as she hurried toward the light flickering at the end of the alleyway. Behind her, new footsteps grew louder, closer. She spun around, her dagger raised, but Tor knocked it easily from her grip. He pressed her up against the wall, his hands sliding into her hair.

“Tell me something true,” he growled against her lips.

Wren opened her mouth to his, waiting for the warm caress of his tongue, and then—

“WAKEY, WAKEY, PRINCESS!”

Wren snapped her eyes open to find Celeste standing over her, smirking. “I hate to interrupt whateverthatwas. You were moaning in your sleep.”

Wren sat up, trying to get her bearings. It was the day after her trip to Eshlinn, and she was exhausted. After an afternoon of dress fittings for a wedding she had no intention of attending, she had stolen away to the library for some peace and quiet. “I must have dozed off. What time is it?”

“Well after dinner, but don’t worry, I’ve brought you a present fromthe kitchens.” Celeste removed a bottle of red wine from behind her back and dangled it in front of Wren. “Let’s go for a walk in the courtyard.”

Wren grinned as she got to her feet. “Yes,please.”

Once outside, they hid the wine from the guards as they made their way to the rose garden. Above them, the moon glowed like a lantern in the sky, casting a pallid light across the bushes.

“Ugh. The flowers look haggard,” said Celeste. “So many of them have lost their petals.”

“Must have been that pesky rainstorm the other night,” said Wren before taking her first glug of wine. It was deliciously plummy, the sharp edges of her anxiety dulling as she gulped it down.

“Someone’sthirsty,” said Celeste, swiping it back.

Wren made a mental note to take dainty, princess-like sips in the future. “Well, I did miss dinner.”

They sank onto a bench and laid their heads back, watching the stars.

Celeste drank from the bottle before setting it down between them. “I had the strangest dream about you the other night.”

“Oh?” said Wren, resisting the urge to take another slug.

“You were by the sea.” Celeste closed her eyes as she pulled the dream from her memory. “You were standing on the edge of a cliff. It plummeted down into these huge crashing waves. And you were just hovering there in your nightgown.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “You looked so disheveled. So... well, so unlike you.”

Wren masked her unease with a small sip of wine. She thought of Rose, a world away. If Shen had made good time, they would havescaled the Whisperwind Cliffs and reached Ortha by now. But there was no way Celeste could know that. It was a coincidence. A strange, uneasy coincidence...

Wren stood up and drifted toward the edge of the courtyard. Beyond it, the Silvertongue was steady, the gray waters meandering silently toward Wishbone Bay. “I haven’t been sleeping well either. Must be the bad weather.”

There was a sudden creaking overhead, followed by the furious flapping of wings. She looked up just in time to see a flock of starcrests burst free from the window in the west tower. The birds swooped and swarmed, their silver breasts shooting across the sky like stars. In their flight patterns, Wren knew there were whispers of the future, but she was not able to read them. She was no seer, after all. For all her time living at Ortha, Wren had never even met one. Banba claimed some still dwelled in the lost village of Amarach in the south, but the towers there were hidden so well, it could take years to find a seer. And that was if you knew where to look.

“I think Willem has a new bird obsession,” said Celeste, who was watching them just as keenly. “He lets the starcrests fly almost every night now.”

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