Page 102 of Cursed Crowns

Rose stared at him in alarm. Did he really not remember anything about that day in the Vault? “Ansel,” she said gently, “the wedding was called off. We’re not getting married.”

Ansel laughed loudly, the sound like a screeching eagle. “What jokes! Of course we are. Tomorrow, I believe.” His brow furrowed. “Or perhaps the day after. Do you know, I’m having the hardest time keeping track of the time? Love has made my mind fuzzy!”

“That must be it,” said Rose, edging away. She glanced at the sapphires. How were there still eight remaining? She felt like she’d been in this room for an eternity already.

“I can think of nothing but our wedding.” Ansel’s head lolled to oneside. He grabbed it with both hands, barely blinking, as it snapped back into place. “Truly. It is the only thought that occupies my mind.”

“Oh, Ansel.” Rose was seized by a rush of pity for the poor prince, or this strange version of him, stuck pining for a day that would never come. She sat down on the bed, patting the space beside her. “Why don’t you lie down and try to get some rest?”

“Do you know I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept?” Ansel yawned as he crawled onto the bed. A tooth fell out of his mouth and Rose bit back a scream. “I keep forgetting to close my eyes.”

She reached for the prince’s hand and sent a pulse of healing magic into his bloodstream. She didn’t know if it would work, since her powers were meant for the living, but then his brow smoothed and he sighed peacefully.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Rose jumped to her feet as the door swung open, revealing Alarik Felsing, wild-eyed and panting, in its frame. “I heard you scream,” he said between breaths. “Where’s Ansel? I know he’s in here somewhere.”

Rose glanced at the mirror. Five more sapphires to go. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear. She’d take the company of ten undead Ansels any day over the terrifying king of Gevra.

Alarik stalked into the room, his frown sharpening when he spotted his brother lying on the bed. He turned on Rose. “What have you done to him?”

Rose reached for a dreg of courage.Think like Wren.Talk like Wren. Act like Wren.

She slouched against the desk. “Calm down,” she said, folding her arms. “He’s just resting.”

The king raked his pale blue gaze over her, noting her scant outfit,which was sun-bright and covered in sand. “Where did you get that dress?”

“I found it in the wardrobe,” said Rose, forcing a shrug.

Alarik glared at the wardrobe like it had betrayed him, then shook whatever thought was forming out of his head. “And you thought now was a good time to play dress-up?” He gestured to Ansel, who was staring blankly at the ceiling. “Are you trying to seduce him back to some kind of normality?”

Rose gasped, before she could stop herself. “How dare you!”

Alarik narrowed his eyes as he came toward her. “Something is amiss.”

Stars! Did the king of Gevra always stand so close to Wren? Rose scooted out from under his glare. “Let me solve the riddle for you,” she said, reaching for Wren’s sarcasm. “Your undead brother is the thing that’s amiss.”

“Which is your fault,” he said. “So, speak, witch. What exactly went wrong?”

“I don’t know,” said Rose, frustration making her voice sharp. “Maybe the fact Wren’s never done forbidden magic before!”

The second her sister’s name flew out of her mouth, Rose winced. Wren had spent an entire month pretending to be her at Anadawn, and Rose couldn’t last three minutes in the company of the Gevran king.

Alarik turned on her, lightning fast. “Do you often speak in the third person?”

Rose forced a strangled laugh. “Only when I’m anxious.”

“I’ve never known you to get anxious.”

“You barely know me,” said Rose, glancing at the sapphires. Two minutes.

Just then, Ansel sat bolt upright. “Rose? Rooooose? It’s almost our wedding day!”

Rose had to get out of here before the switch reversed. In the absence of any sort of plan, she clutched the mirror and bolted through the open door. The king’s soldiers caught her in the hallway. Quick as an adder, Alarik grabbed her hand and twisted it.

Rose yelped, trying to pull away, but his grip was like steel. She kicked his shin, but the king didn’t even flinch. He was too busy examining her palm.

He raised his brows. “Your cut has healed.”

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