Page 26 of Cursed Crowns
Rose blinked back tears. “I hope so.”
“I know so. Now fetch me some parchment and I’ll draw you a map.” She glanced toward the window, where outside the royal guard was starting to assemble. “But best keep it to yourself. Just in case.”
By the time the tour was ready to depart, and all the trunks were packed and loaded, Rose was feeling optimistic about the weeks ahead. Shen nudged his horse, Storm, into formation beside the royal carriage, while she hugged Thea tightly, grateful to have her map tucked safely inside her bodice.
As Rose stepped into the golden carriage, with Elske at her heels, she looked back at Anadawn, at her palace, and swore to herself that when she returned, it would be as a queen beloved by her people. As a queen triumphant. She would charm the entire country, town by town, home by home if she needed to.
Edgar Barron simply didn’t know who he was up against.
11
Wren
The ice fjords of Gevra loomed over Wren as theSiren’s Secretdrifted into the Death Crevasse. She could see her reflection in the sheer cliff face, a distorted dot peering out at the snow-swept world. The chill had settled in her bones now. Her toes were numb, and her teeth were chattering.
I’m almost there, Banba.
Marino Pegasi steered them through the winding inlet as if he had been doing it his whole life, and after a couple of painstaking hours, the fjords finally gave way to a frostbitten cove, upon which a bustling port was teeming with people. Wren counted at least forty ships, everything from battered fishing boats and tall sailing vessels to the hulking war boats that had sailed down the Silvertongue River a few weeks ago. She recognized the king’s ship—the one Banba had been taken away on. Here it sat, moored and empty, save for the swabbies on deck and the soldiers guarding the gangplank.
Though evening had fallen, there were hundreds of merchants and sailors running about, and more market stalls than Wren had ever seen in one place. The shouts of their vendors carried on the wintry wind, reaching her all the way across the water.
Wren’s fingers began to twitch. Back in Eshlinn getting to Gevra had felt like a fever dream, but suddenly it was before her, stealing the color from her cheeks and the courage from her heart. She shook off her nerves, but the chill clung to her as she turned and stalked toward the helm. Marino was at the wheel, guiding theSiren’s Secretinto port.
“I’ll need you to come back for me in three days,” said Wren. “I know the timing isn’t ideal.”
“You think I would knowingly leave a queen of Eana on hostile shores?” Marino shook his head. “There are always other trades to make. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
Wren forced a laugh. “You hardly think I bartered my way onto your ship without a plan, do you?”
“Your lips are turning blue,” said Marino. “Didn’t you pack a warm stole? Or is getting immediate frostbite part of your plan, too?”
“I may have underestimated the weather.”
“Lessie told me why you’ve come.” He turned his face west, his expression grim. “The mountain palace is a fortress, cut into the heart of the Fovarr Mountains. I hope you’re not planning on scaling a wall.”
“Believe it or not, that’s worked for me before.”
“You’re not in Anadawn now, Wren,” warned Marino. “Gevra doesn’t give second chances. To queens or peasants.” His voice dropped, as though he were afraid the wind was listening in. “Soldiersandbeasts patrol the mountain palace. And if they don’t get you, the frost will.”
Wren folded her arms to hide her trembling hands. “I have an invitation from the king himself.”
Marino made a noise of disbelief. “What if it’s a trap?”
“I’m a queen of Eana. I’m sure even Alarik Felsing would have more sense than that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Marino. “When the young prince of Radask paid a diplomatic visit to the palace last year, he lost three toenails and a front tooth. They say he fled the palace in tattered robes.”
Wren quailed. “What happened to him?”
Marino shrugged. “A tussle with the king’s bear, most likely. Or maybe the king himself. All I know is, invitation or not, I wouldn’t count on Alarik Felsing’s hospitality. Especially not after what happened to his brother on our shores.”
Wren’s hand flew to her drawstring pouch, suddenly rethinking her entire plan. Marino was right. She would be a fool to simply stroll into Grinstad Palace, thinking her crown would protect her. Alarik Felsing did not play by the rules.
“There are several fur-lined coats in my cabin belowdecks,” added Marino. “Take one.”
Wren dipped her chin in thanks. “I don’t suppose you know of an ancient secret tunnel that leads directly into the palace?”
Marino chuckled. “Now that’s what I call a long shot.”