Page 1 of Cursed Crowns

1

Wren

Wren Greenrock’s crown was too tight. The band squeezed her temples, pressing into her skull. She tried not to wince as she stood on the balcony at Anadawn Palace beside her twin sister, looking out over the kingdom they had fought so hard to claim. Wren still couldn’t quite believe it was hers. Or at least half of it was. She and Rose had agreed to share it.

Still, her nerves were frayed. She had been worrying about this moment all morning, steeling herself for the worst. Given the events of the last few days, which had seen the unfortunate death of Rose’s betrothed, Prince Ansel of Gevra, on their wedding day, followed swiftly by the welcome demise of Willem Rathborne, their traitorous Kingsbreath, Wren hadn’t been expecting a big turnout, or even a positive one, but a jubilant sea of people had gathered just beyond the golden gates. Revelers from the nearby town of Eshlinn and beyond had come to wish the twins well on their coronation day. The crowd was so large it stretched all the way back to the woods. Thousands of grinning faces peered up at the white palace, their cheers rising on the summer breeze. They had come to celebrate Wren and Rose, the new twin queens of Eana.

The twins, for their part, stood on the balcony, bedecked in theirfinest gowns and brand-new crowns, absorbing their adoration like sunlight. Together, they glowed like a beacon—the promise of a new era, in which the witches and non-magical folk of Eana would live side by side in harmony, and all the old superstitions and festering mistrust would finally be laid to rest. It was a day of promise and possibility. Or at least it would have been if Wren’s head hadn’t been pounding like a drum.

“Stop scowling,” said Rose out of the side of her mouth. “They’ll think you’re unhappy.”

Wren glanced sidelong at her sister. Rose’s smile was full and gleaming. It had been perfectly fixed in place for almost an hour. She had been waving for just as long, too, her hand raised high above her head, so every man, woman, and child below could see it and know they were welcome. Cherished. Rose was a natural at this. She had been born for it.

Wren had never felt more like a novice in her life. Her smile had come easily at first, her surprise at hearing the cheers as they opened the doors to the balcony filling her with a rush of relief. But now her energy was waning. She had smiled and waved for so long her arm was exhausted.Shewas exhausted. It was no wonder. After all, she had grown up among the witches on the windswept beaches of Ortha in the west, far from the pomp and ceremony of Anadawn Palace and all the patience and decorum expected of a princess. “How long do we have to stand out here for?” she hissed. “All this waving is making me ravenous. And my head hurts.”

Rose grabbed Wren’s free hand. She squeezed, and a warm pulse traveled up Wren’s arm. Healing magic. A heartbeat later, Wren’s headache was gone.

“There.” Rose blew out a breath as she released her. “No more complaining.”

Wren refixed her smile and returned to waving. Her head felt better but her chest was still tight. Despite her healing magic, Rose couldn’t mend her sister’s heartache. It bloomed like a dark flower inside Wren, reminding her of Banba. Barely a day had passed since her steel-eyed, fearless grandmother had been taken from the burning Protector’s Vault by King Alarik and his ruthless Gevran soldiers. She had been hauled onto a ship before Wren could get to her. The memory of that awful moment plagued Wren’s every waking thought now, the unfairness of it writhing inside her like a snake.

Wren had become queen, just as her grandmother had always wanted, but Banba wasn’t here to see it. Wasn’t here to help her. Instead, King Alarik, the young, feral king from the northern continent, who harbored a dark fascination with witches, had taken her prisoner. But Wren intended to change that. She had made a vow to herself—and to Rose—that she was going to find a way to rescue her grandmother from the icy maw of Gevra.

Just as soon as she’d finished smiling and waving.

Wren caught the moment Rose’s gaze flickered down to the courtyard, where Shen Lo was reclining along the edge of the fountain that marked the entryway to the inner palace. He had one arm slung over his forehead to keep the sun from his eyes, the other drifting in the crystalline water.

Wren could tell by his smirk that he wasn’t sleeping. She didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was enjoying the spectacle of Rose glowing in her natural habitat. And Wren squirming like a fish out of water.

“Wren, look!” squealed Rose, grabbing her sister’s hand again.“They’re throwing flowers over the gates!”

Wren looked up just in time to see a bright red rose land in the courtyard. And then another, and another. There was an entire bouquet scattered along the stones—pinks and yellows and reds and purples—and still more sailing over the gates. “Roses,” said Wren with a chuckle. “They really do love you.”

“They’ll love you, too,” said Rose, blowing a kiss to the crowd. A cheer went up. Rose did an elaborate twirl, garnering another. “Just as soon as they properly get to know you.”

“As long as they don’t start flinging dead wrens over the walls.”

“Oh, don’t be so morose.”

Wren made a show of blowing a kiss to the crowd. More whoops and hollers rang out. Down in the courtyard, Shen was laughing, his teeth winking in the afternoon sun.

“This really is too easy,” said Wren, blowing another kiss. “Maybe I should do a cartwheel.”

Rose grabbed her sister’s elbow. “Don’t you dare!”

Wren burst into laughter.

Just then, the crowd surged forward, causing the gates to groan. Arms threaded through the golden railings, grasping for more space, as a single rotten tomato sailed over the spires. It soared as if in slow motion, getting bigger as it came toward them. Thankfully, it fell short of the balustrade and landed in the courtyard with a determinedsplat.

A ragged shout rose above the cheers. “OUT WITH THE WITCHES!”

Down in the courtyard, Shen jolted upright.

Rose’s smile faltered.

Wren stopped waving. “I think we’re done for the day.”

“Ignore it,” said Rose, quickly regaining her composure. “It’s one tomato.”

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