Page 114 of Cursed Crowns
“He also just tried to kill me!” Rose cried, unable to help herself. Beside her, Storm whinnied. “And also Storm!” she added quickly. “He cut her leg!”
“Snitch!” hissed Kai.
Grandmother Lu spun her cane in a blur. She poked him in the cheek. “You should be ashamed of yourself, attacking Queen Rose. And hurting a desert horse!” She bonked the top of his head. “Stupid boy.”
Kai tried to bat the cane away, but she was too quick for him.
Grandmother Lu bonked him again. “I am the master. I make the rules.”
Rose couldn’t help but giggle.
Grandmother Lu whipped her head around. “This isn’t a show. Heal that horse and get out of here!”
Rose dipped her chin, quickly doing as she was told. She was not about to get on this old woman’s bad side. She closed her eyes and summoned her magic, making quick work of Storm’s wound. By the time it was healed, Grandmother Lu was still scolding Kai.
Rose clambered back onto the horse, turning to look down at the seasoned warrior. “Will you be all right here by yourself?”
Grandmother Lu barked a laugh. “I haven’t even broken a sweat!” Before Rose could respond, the old woman turned around and whacked Storm on the rump. “Off with you! Don’t stop until you reach Anadawn!”
“Thank you!” cried Rose, as Storm took off in a whirl of sand.
43
Wren
Wren woke up late and devoured a hearty breakfast of jam pastries and bitter coffee before pocketing two more pastries and heading down to the library, where she listened to the blizzard get angrier.
Fires crackled from two massive fireplaces, flooding the room with delicious heat, and there were more than enough couches to lounge on while she read, each one artfully draped in decadent fur throws. Wren had amassed a stack of books on arrival—everything from a collection of old Gevran folk tales and an encyclopedia on local medicinal herbs. She hauled it all to a nearby couch, lit a candle on the side table, and curled up under a blanket.
She was hoping something in the annals of Grinstad Palace would help her find a way to fix the prince. But as the minutes turned to hours, and day melted into night, Wren began to lose hope. The fires dwindled in their grates. Her lids grew heavy until not even the howling blizzard could keep her awake.
Weary with defeat, she set the books aside. She was passing through the first floor of the atrium when she spied the dowager queen sitting at her glass piano.
Perhaps it was the late hour or the wildness that desperation brings,but before Wren could talk herself out of it, she went downstairs. Everything was already unraveling around her, what harm could one conversation do now?
“Hello,” Wren called out, waving awkwardly.
Queen Valeska looked up, blinking herself from her stupor.
Wren pointed to the piano. “I saw you sitting here, and I thought you looked like you could use some company. Do you play?”
Valeska looked at her for a long moment, like she couldn’t quite figure out who she was. “No,” she said at last. “Not anymore.”
“Oh. What a shame.”
“Do you?”
Wren shook her head. “I tried once and it wasn’t for me. I’m more of a sea-shanty person.”
The queen’s brows rose, intrigue bringing out the beauty in her fine-boned features. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a sea shanty before.”
“Really?” said Wren. “You’ve been missing out.”
“Perhaps you might sing one, then?” suggested the queen, like it was a completely reasonable thing to ask.
Wren looked around the dark atrium, noting all the soldiers pretending not to listen from their alcoves, their beasts sleepy-eyed at their feet.
Wren surrendered to her poorer judgment. If tomorrow was going to hell, then she may as well make the most of tonight. After a full day in the library, she felt strangely giddy, and more than a little hysterical. “Why not?” she said, hiking her skirts to swing in time with the tune. “Prepare to be dazzled.” She cleared her throat and launched into her favorite sea shanty.