Page 8 of Burning Crowns

Shen scowled at Wren. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

Rose misread his annoyance, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I think you will both find that I havemanypeople to dance with.’ She picked up her skirts and spun on her heel. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, at least one of us should be getting back to the festival.’

She strode off, her skirts swishing back and forth behind her.

‘Rose! Wait!’ Shen hurried after her, but not before tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder.

Wren knew that look well.

This isn’t over, Greenrock.

No, she thought, as she refixed the button on her sleeve.Itisn’tover. Whatever this trouble is has only just begun.

But Wren would worry about that tomorrow.

For now, she needed to dance with her sister and welcome the spring.

Rose

CHAPTER 6

The festival lasted long into the night.

Rose kept a close watch on Wren, half expecting her sister to disappear again, but she seemed to have recovered from her mystery ailment and appeared determined to make the most of the evening. And that was exactly what Rose needed from her sister tonight – a brave face and a rallying spirit.

Even though Rose couldn’t shake the fear she’d felt when their tree had gone up in smoke, and worse, when Wren had vanished, she knew how important tonight was. They could not afford to show fear in front of their people. And so as Wren rose to the importance of the occasion, so did she.

The sisters danced together until Rose was dizzy and stumbling with laughter, but Wren kept going. She drank goblet after goblet of fruit wine, despite Rose’s warnings that it would make her feel ill again. Wren even went back for more of Cam’s chocolate stars, joining Celeste and Shen at the dessert table. Then she danced with the Ortha witches, spinning from one to another, her eyes shining until she looked as if she was lit from within.

Rose watched the Ortha witches beaming at Wren, and wondered if they would ever look atherso fondly, or if they still secretly thought of Wren as their one true queen.The ruler they had long planned would sit on the throne.

No.Rose banished the thought. She and Wren were meant to rule together. She knew that in her heart, in her bones. And after the Battle of Anadawn, she hoped the other witches did, too. After all, they had stood together to embrace the fullness of their power and defend Anadawn. She hoped that wouldn’t soon be forgotten.

And yet something close to envy bloomed inside Rose as she watched her sister charm the other revellers, flitting from a group of chatty Eshlinn seamstresses to their new Captain of the Guard, who she easily cajoled into dancing with her.

Even Chapman, the uptight Anadawn steward, joined Wren in a jig around the bonfire, which thankfully didn’t turn into another accidental inferno. Rose didn’t think she could handle any more mishaps, magical or otherwise, tonight.

Rose took a deep, calming breath and studied her sister. Tonight, Wren didn’t need any enchantments to cast her spell on people. When she smiled,trulysmiled, it felt as if she was about to confide a delicious secret or entice you on a thrilling adventure.

Rose knew she was charming in her own poised and practised kind of way. She had spent her whole life perfecting it, after all. Her warmth and affection for her people was genuine, of course. But Wren, for all her fierceness, burned with the kind of brightness that drew people to her, no matter how contrary she might be.

She had even thawed the icy heart of at least one Gevran.

Not that Rose had any details aboutexactlywhat had happened between Wren and Captain Tor Iversen in Grinstad.While Wren teased Rose mercilessly about Shen, nothing made Rose clam up as fast as Rose mentioning the handsome soldier.

Or anything to do with Gevra, really.

Deep down, Rose knew her sister was still healing from everything she had endured there. She was reminded of it every time she saw the silver streak in her sister’s hair, the strand of Wren’s grief for Banba plain for all to see. And so in the end, beneath her jealousy and uncertainty, Rose was glad to see Wren enjoying herself, even if it was just for an evening.

By the time the queens finally left for the palace, it was well after midnight. Once they were cosseted in their carriage, Wren kicked off her muddy shoes and yawned. ‘I’d say that was a success, wouldn’t you?’

‘It was eventually,’ Rose admitted, frowning at her sister’s muddy shoes. ‘You certainly perked up.’

‘That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? For us to act as if everything is merry. To set aside our worries and put everyone else at ease.’ Wren’s voice slurred as she yawned again, before resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. ‘Wake me when we’re home.’

Back at Anadawn, once her sister was fast asleep in her own bed, Rose found herself feeling restless. She paced her room, still in her festival gown. It reeked of smoke and the hem was torn, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off just yet. Partly because she was so cold. She’d caught a strange chill down by the lake that she couldn’t seem to shake.

What she really wanted was a bath. Yes, that was it. A hot bath always helped.

---