Page 71 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

Miguel calls from the hall, “Your Majesty, you have a meeting with Lord Keverston in fifteen minutes.”

“Is it that late already?” Lawrence asks with a sigh. He then turns to Clover. “I have to go, but I’ll see you this evening at dinner. Don’t forget to see Minda for your gown fitting.”

Clover’s eyes dart to me briefly, but she nods for Lawrence.

“And don’t leave without Barret,” he warns. “Now that Camellia is here, it’s absolutely essential that you remain with your guard.”

“Yes, fine.” She shoos him away with her hand. “I’ll stay with my keepers.”

Lawrence pauses in front of me before he leaves. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Are you?” I can’t help but ask, my gaze briefly flicking to Clover.

Laughing under his breath, he says, “Mostly.”

He then gives Brielle a nod and steps out the door. The room becomes silent in his absence, and the remaining eyes fall on Clover and me.

“I should go as well,” Pranmore says as if uncomfortable. “Henrik, if you need me, Lawrence has given me a small suite of rooms in the physician’s wing.”

“I’ll visit soon,” I promise.

Once he’s gone, there are only four of us. Brielle stands next to Clover, wringing her hands at her waist like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

Bartholomew looks uneasy as well, and he clears his throat, scanning the room as if looking for something to talk about. Suddenly, his eyes brighten when he spots a plant that sits in front of a window in the adjoining sitting room. “Is that a weeping dormantia?”

Brielle turns, glad for the distraction. “Oh, I don’t know. Is it?”

My sister has never taken an interest in plants, but she hurries toward it as if it’s wildly fascinating. Bartholomew gladly follows, leaving Clover and me alone.

When our eyes meet, my heart beats faster. As Clover steps forward, the evening light glints on the golden circlet she wears, reminding me she’s forbidden.

I gulp as I swear to myself I will not reach for her no matter how tempting it might be.

Not here.

17

CLOVER

Henrik glances toward Bartholomew and Brielle to make sure they’re still distracted, and then he closes the distance between us, standing so near, I have to look up. Lowering his head, he drops his voice to a bare whisper and says, “Do you remember the old fountain in the back garden?”

My heart begins to beat faster. “The one I dragged you to when we returned from the mountains?”

The barest smile plays at his lips. “If you can escape your keepers, meet me there at midnight.”

He then takes several steps back, putting a respectable amount of distance between us. My heart dances, and I press my lips together to hide my flustered smile.

“Astounding,” Bartholomew says as he and Brielle rejoin us, sounding genuinely impressed by a plant that looks like every other plant to me. “They’re native to the Ladoran forests. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one. Who do you think brought it to Cabaranth?”

“Most likely Rose,” I say absently, looking everywhere but at Henrik, afraid I’ll give away our plans if I so much as glance at him. “These were her rooms before she left for Ferradelle with Camellia.”

Mentioning Rose makes me think of Iris, and I wince as I remember the look on her face when she begged to return home. Though she was wise to get as far away from Camellia as possible, if the princess ever comes into power…

No, the thought of Camellia wearing the crown is too horrible to contemplate. She’ll never find herself upon the Phoenix throne—Lawrence won’t allow it.

Iwon’t allow it.

“I should be going.” I turn to Brielle, offering her a warm smile as I continue to studiously ignore her brother. “Perhaps we could meet for tea soon?”

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