Page 40 of Cursed Crowns

Alarik raised his hand, restoring it.

It was too late to take it back now. Wren had been swept up by an idea so wild it had leaped out of her before she could stop it. But Alarik had made it seem like the only way forward, the only way to save her grandmother. “If you want a cooperative witch, you can have one,” said Wren. She paused then, the color prickling from her cheeks as the fullness of his plan came into focus. “That’s why you sent that note, isn’t it?”

Alarik smiled. “You see right through me, Wren.”

Wren tried not to think of her sister in that moment. If Rose were here, she’d strangle her for making such a stupid suggestion. But Rosewould never be foolish enough to come to Gevra on a whim, to risk everything. To lose everything. If this was Wren’s only hope, then it would be her penance, too. After all, everything came at a price. And her sister was a better queen than Wren was, anyway. A smarter ruler. Rosewantedto rule. But the throne meant nothing to Wren without Banba. Rose could take care of Eana in her absence. With Shen Lo by her side, and an entire army to command, she could face down Barron and his Arrows. And soon, Banba would be with her. Banba would help her.

But first Wren had to free her.

“You can have me,” said Wren.

Tor’s voice rang out. “No.”

Alarik turned on him. “Remind me, Tor. Which of us is king?”

“Wren is a queen of Eana,” said Tor. “You cannot keep her here, under lock and key. Not without consequences.”

Alarik narrowed his eyes. “Would you prefer I kill her for her crimes and be done with it?” He whistled through his teeth and his two wolves came prowling out from the shadows. “Luna, Nova. Who wants breakfast?”

Tor raised his hand, stopping the beasts in their tracks. “Alarik,” he said in a low voice, “be reasonable.”

The king flashed his teeth. “Careful, Tor. Your composure is slipping.”

Wren looked between the men. She was losing her footing, caught in some twisted game of power and possession. The king was angry at Tor for what had happened to Ansel—that much was clear. Now he was using Wren to test him. To break him. If she didn’t seize control of the conversation, it would unravel completely.

“I’ll help you with whatever your secret mission is,” she said,climbing onto Alarik’s step, using herself as a distraction. “I’ll teach you everything you wish to know about magic. All I ask is that you let my grandmother go.”

“And if I don’t?” said Alarik.

“Then you’ll have two uncooperative witches on your hands.”

“Or two dead ones.”

Wren smiled thinly. “And a war. With a great many more witches. The kind thatwillcooperate. To kill you.”

Alarik swallowed hard.

A swell of triumph rose inside Wren. Her threat had landed. As much as the Gevran king was fascinated by the witches, he was terrified of them, too.

So, what, then, did he need one for?

The doors to the throne room swung open, startling them from their negotiation. Princess Anika Felsing arrived in a fury, her crimson hair flying after her as she stomped toward them. Her long black dress billowed around her like the wings of a butterfly.

“What is that traitorous bitch doing here?” she cried, the cavernous room turning her anger operatic. “And why in freezing hell is she still alive?”

Alarik sighed. “Darling Anika, you must learn to knock.”

The last time Wren had seen the crimson-haired princess of Gevra, Anika had sent her snow leopard to devour Wren on the banks of the Silvertongue, only to be thwarted at the last second by Elske. For all the fury Anika felt toward Wren, Wren possessed just as much for her. But she was on foreign soil and without a weapon, so she banked her temper and waggled her fingers at the fuming princess. “Nice to see you, too, Anika.”

“It won’t be nice when I jam the heel of my shoe into your skull.”

Alarik rolled his eyes. “Charming. Tor, restrain her.”

Tor caught Anika before she could fling herself at Wren. He swung her around, clamping his arms around her until she stopped flailing. Wren hated the hum of jealousy she felt at watching them tussle.

“Easy, Anika.” Alarik addressed his sister like one of his beasts. “Remember Father’s rule? We don’t make scenes in the throne room.”

“She killed Ansel!” hissed Anika. “She’s the reason our brother is dead!” Anika turned her seething rage back to Wren. “You’re an arrogant fool for setting foot in Gevra. I don’t care how many witches you have back in Eana. I’ll have your head before you leave here. You won’t get away with what you did!”