Page 48 of Cursed Crowns

“Iheardthat,” said Wren. “It’s no way to speak to an esteemed guest. I am a queen, you know.”

“You’re a prisoner,” the guard corrected her.

“Actually, that’s still up for debate.” No response. “If you don’t take this plate away this instant, I’m going to stick my head out of the window and shriek until everyone in this palace wakes up, and they’ll haveyouto blame for it. For goodness’ sake, I’m hardly asking for a prancing pony! Just stick your hand in and take it away.”

The key turned in the lock. The second the door creaked open, Wren blew the salt from her palm, sending a hurried incantation after it. The soldier slumped to the floor. His wolf woke with a start, but Wren was ready for the beast. Within seconds, it was curled up beside its master, both of them snoring in perfect harmony.

She dusted her hands as she stepped out of the room. “Really, that was too easy.”

Wren was relieved to find the rest of the hallway empty. She skulked to the end of it, making her way to the back of the palace, where she found the servants’ stairwell. She followed it down one flight and then another, her footsteps featherlight on the stone. Beastly snores echoed through the palace, growing louder as she descended. Wren didn’t know where the dungeons were, but she sensed if she ventured down deep enough, she’d find them.

When the patter of footsteps echoed up the stairwell toward her, Wren turned around and ducked out onto the first floor. She stuck to the wall, inching through the shadows as she searched for another way downstairs. More footsteps sounded somewhere behind her, only these ones were accompanied by theclick-clackof claws on marble.

She scurried away from the patrolling soldier and his beast,swinging around the next corner at such a speed she nearly lost her balance. She skidded to a stop, a hand pressed to her chest to calm her racing heart. Moonlight cascaded over her in rivers of molten silver, casting a dreamlike glow about the palace. Wren looked up, to where a familiar glass dome revealed the starlit sky.

Oh.

She was standing at the top of the split staircase, looking out over the same atrium she had marveled at hours earlier. Something shifted in the half-light and she dipped her chin, a breath catching in her throat. There was a woman sitting at the piano. She was much older than Wren, with sinewy limbs and a gaunt face, and was wearing a black nightgown, her long blond hair glowing like a pearl. Her fingers rested lightly on the keys, but she didn’t play a single note. She was staring vacantly at the piano, wearing a look so haunted, it made the hairs on the back of Wren’s neck stand up.

It was like she was frozen.

And stranger still... although Alarik’s soldiers were stationed throughout the atrium, not a single one was looking at the woman. Even the beasts didn’t seem to notice her. Was she a ghost, sprung from Wren’s addled imagination? It suddenly occurred to her—this must be Alarik’s mother, the reclusive Queen Valeska.

Wren tried to creep a little closer, but a hand closed around her arm.

“What in freezing hell are you doing down here?” said Tor’s voice close to her ear. Wren swallowed her gasp as he pulled her away from the banister and spun her into an alcove.

“Who is that woman sitting at the—”

“Wren, this isn’t Anadawn,” Tor whispered furiously. “If you get caught sneaking around like this, it will cost you your head.”

Wren blinked up at the soldier. He filled the alcove, the heat of his anger pressing her back against the wall. “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting caught.” She looked at his hands on her waist, feeling every searing inch of his touch. “How did you even know I was down here?”

Tor snapped his hands away, returning one to the pommel of his sword. “I found your satchel in the courtyard. I was bringing it to you when I found Ulrich lying in a heap.”

Wren bit her lip. “He must have been tired.”

“What are you playing at, Wren? Are you trying to bait Alarik? Or is it me you’re toying with?”

“Stars, Tor, I’m trying to see if my grandmother is still alive,” snapped Wren. “What did you expect me to do? Wait in that room like some mindless idiot while that arrogant lout wastes my time and just...ignoresme?”

“Yes,” said Tor through his teeth. “Yes.”

Wren blew out a breath. “Then you clearly don’t know me very well.”

“I found you quick enough, didn’t I?”

“You win at hide-and-seek, Tor,” said Wren dryly. “Why don’t we play again?”

Tor braced himself against the wall, trapping her inside the alcove.

Wren pushed against his chest. It was rock solid, as immovable as the stone at their feet. “Move.”

“The dungeon is crawling with beasts.”

“I’ve got my magic.”

Tor raked his gaze along her body.

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