Page 81 of Cursed Crowns
She pressed down on Alarik’s hand, as her head began to spin. Her magic surged, throbbing like a second heartbeat.
Yes,whispered a voice inside her.Keep going.
“With blood for strength, and words for flight, I call your soul back to the light!”cried Wren.
Her shoulders were trembling now, or was that Alarik who was shaking?
A groan seeped out of him.
Wren leaned against him, just as he collapsed against her, both of them holding each other up. Wren just about managed to eke out the enchantment one last time, but when the words left her so did the last of her breath. The final kernel of her energy—her magic—went with it.
She withdrew her hand and opened her eyes. The room was spinning. Alarik had used his free hand to brace himself against the table, the other still pressed to his brother’s chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, pain twisting every muscle on his face. His blood was everywhere, the pooling stains glowing like firelight.
Wren reached for his arm as she stumbled backward, the room spinning faster and faster until she didn’t know which way was up.
Alarik raised his head. “Wren.”
His voice was so far away. Wren felt like she was falling down a tunnel. She couldn’t see straight, couldn’t breathe right. She lost her footing, and Alarik lunged, catching her by the waist. He pushed her back against the wall, pinning her between his arms to stop her from cracking her head on the marble slab.
Wren tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her legs were giving way beneath her.
Alarik pressed his forehead into her shoulder, groaning as they slid down to the floor together. They collapsed in a heap, the blackness sweeping in to claim them.
Wren languished in darkness for an eternity, waiting for something to fill the hollow yawning inside her. New breath. Old magic. Anything. The king rested against her shoulder, his head touching hers, their chests rising and falling in perfect unison as the slow drip-drop of ice water gently coaxed them back to consciousness.
Wren woke up first.
A pair of legs swung back and forth in her periphery. Then came a voice, haunting in its familiarity. “Good morrow, my flower!”
Wren looked up to find Prince Ansel sitting on the edge of the marble slab, waggling his fingers at her. “I believe it’s almost time for our wedding!”
30
Rose
Rose followed Lei Fan deeper into the Palace of Eternal Sunlight. Light flooded the vaulted hallways, casting pinwheels of color across the quartz tiles. Shen’s cousin paused at one point, lifting her face to the windows and soaking it in, like a flower.
“I’ve missed the sun’s warmth,” she said quietly. “I thought I’d never know it again.”
Rose had quickly come to realize that the palace was designed to pour sunlight into every room, every nook and crevice, every forgotten corner. It must have been awful living for so many years without it, so she stood aside and let Lei Fan savor it.
A short while later, they arrived at an ornate door carved with sunbursts. Lei Fan offered Rose a sheepish smile. “Excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors today. Or ever, really.” She paused. “And definitely not a queen.”
Rose returned her smile, gesturing to the mud on her sleeve. “Only if you’ll excuse my dress.”
“Deal.” Lei Fan pushed the door open, and Rose gaped at the chamber inside. Tunics of blue and green and red were strewn haphazardlyacross the floor, gold earrings and ruby hairpins scattered among them like confetti. Even more clothes spilled out of the armoires, which spanned an entire wall. The rest were decorated with breathtaking murals, a blushing desert sunrise to the east, and an amber sunset to the west. In the middle of it all, stood an unmade four-poster bed draped in cerulean silks. Upon it, a black cat was reclining in a shaft of sunlight. It opened one eye in mild interest.
“That’s Shadow,” said Lei Fan as the cat promptly went back to sleep. “We both thrive in chaos.”
“Hello, Shadow,” said Rose politely, but the cat was already snoring.
Lei Fan sent out a gust of wind and blasted the river of clothes aside as she crossed the bedroom.
Ah, thought Rose, as she followed her.That explains the mess.
Lei Fan flung open a wardrobe and a sea of dresses spilled out. “There has to besomethingfancy enough in here,” she muttered, as she rummaged through the swell of silks and linens.
“I’m really not that picky,” lied Rose, as she turned to the mirror. She winced at her reflection. Her cheeks were sunburned, and her hair was a tangled mess. Dark circles pooled under her eyes, betraying her exhaustion.