Page 32 of Burning Crowns

He smiled, sheepishly. ‘Sorry. Force of habit.’

Wren blew out a breath. ‘So, it’s decided, then. We can return on Marino’s ship for secrecy.’

He dragged a hand across his jaw. ‘I’ll have to consult with Captain Iversen first.’

Just then, the door flew open. Tor stood in the door frame, looking between them. ‘Ready and willing, Your Majesty.’

Wren’s smile died on her lips. She groaned.

‘What is it?’ they chorused.

‘Marino is going to be insufferable about this,’ she said, with a sigh.

Rose

CHAPTER 12

Rose didn’t tell anyone about her midnight encounter with Oonagh. She took the shattered pieces of the mirror and buried them deep in her garden, whispering an enchantment to keep them hidden.

Her beloved rose garden now mocked her with its decay. She overheard the palace gardeners speculating about what had happened. An early frost, said one. Locusts, said another. A magical curse, someone suggested, laughing at the very thought.

But Rose knew that was closest to the terrible truth. And the roses were only the start of it. The morning had been curiously absent of birdsong, and then at midday, there were thumps heard all across the palace as birds fell dead from the sky. Dozens of them. Mostly starcrests, but dawn birds and blackbirds and carrier pigeons, too. Rose wondered if birds were falling out of the sky across Eana, or only over Anadawn. She hoped that some of the starcrests had flown away, that they had managed to find a safe haven somewhere. She ordered for the ones that had fallen to be picked up and burned, but she knew it would not be so easy to rid Anadawn – or indeed Eana – of Oonagh’s lingering threat.

And as for her own injuries … Rose wore her hair loose to hide the marks on her neck. She could not afford to be seen as weak, as injured. Not now. Or ever.

She crafted a careful veneer that allowed her to tolerate polite conversation with Prince Felix, who was at the breakfast table before her, a scroll of parchment in his hand. With dramatic flair, he recited a meandering romantic poem to Rose, seemingly oblivious to the state of the palace around him or indeed the queen upon whom he gazed with wide, covetous eyes.

When Rose met with Chapman after breakfast as usual, the steward was mildly alarmed by the birds and the garden, but Rose mumbled something about the changing weather that he accepted. She knew she would soon have to prepare him, and all of Anadawn, for the inevitable return of Oonagh Starcrest, but to do that she needed Wren at her side.

Rose even avoided both Thea and Celeste. She suspected the Queensbreath would see through her act, and with her impressive healing skills, might quickly sense something was deeply wrong.

As for Celeste, Rose had never lied to her best friend before, and she couldn’t bear to start now. So, better not to see her at all, for the time being. Celeste was already having visions of Oonagh, and Rose knew if she met with her friend, she wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from her.

She needed to tell Wren before anyone else. Then the two of them, together, could come up with a plan for what to do next.As Rose prepared for bed that night, she enchanted a row of everlights along her windowsill and built up the fire in the grate, as high as it would go. She could not face the dark, not tonight. Not on her own.

Come home soon, Wren. I need you.

When Rose awoke from a fitful slumber, the sun was already high in the sky. But the everlights on her windowsill still glowed and despite her fears, she hadn’t received any more unexpected bedroom visitors.

Rose yawned as she dressed, trying to shake off her exhaustion. She chose a yellow day dress embroidered with white butterflies and a delicate lace scarf, before brushing her hair to its fullest. She was just finishing applying her favourite lavender hand cream when she heard a commotion in the courtyard.

Goodness.Was it more dead birds? Or perhaps another erstwhile suitor? Or was Prince Felix preparing some other extravagant display of unwanted affection?

Rose sighed. Shereallydid not have time to be wooed right now. Except perhaps by Shen, and he was far too busy with his own affairs in the desert, as she well knew. And besides, Shen never made a racket when he arrived at Anadawn. He preferred to slip inside, soundless as a breeze. That was part of the thrill of it.

When a familiar howl rose above the din, Rose’s spirits lifted. Elske was at Anadawn! Which meant Wren had returned, just as she had promised. She must have convinced Captain Iversen to give her that wolf she loved so much. The thought broadened Rose’s smile. While she would have never admitted it to Wren, she really did have a soft spot for Elske.And after Oonagh’s midnight visit, they could certainly use the extra protection.

Rose raced down the tower stairwell and through the halls of Anadawn, breathlessly apologizing to a maidservant she nearly knocked over as she burst into the courtyard.

‘Wren!’ she cried, beaming at the sight of her sister. Now that she could see her in the flesh, she could admit the fear she hadn’t dared to say out loud. The fear that this time, Wren might not come back at all. But shewasback, which meant the two of them could figure out how to deal with the looming threat of Oonagh together.

Rose froze mid-step as she saw who was standing on either side of Wren. Two towering Gevrans, looking entirely out of place. She blinked, sure it was an apparition, but the men remained. ‘Is that …oh no.’

Alarik Felsing had the audacity to smirk at her. ‘That’s hardly the right way to welcome a king.’

For the second time that week, Rose found herself staring, mouth agape, at an unexpected royal visitor. She turned to her sister, who at least had the decency to look sheepish. ‘Am I to take it that King Alarik did not hold the answers you were looking for?’ she asked, crisply.

‘Not exactly …’ admitted Wren.

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