Twin Crowns by Catherine Doyle

Author:Catherine Doyle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

24

Rose

The witches were nothing like Rose had imagined. There was so much laughter in Ortha. And dancing and singing, and storytelling. Not that Rose took part in any of it. She was as wary of the witches as they were of her. Every day, she felt their hardened stares and heard their judging whispers, but she held her head high, making sure to keep her distance from Rowena and her hateful friends.

Each night, Rose watched the moon grow fuller in the sky and knew she was running out of time. Her coronation was fast approaching. She would not let Wren steal her throne from her and hand it to the witches. What would that leave for Rose in the end? She refused to live out the rest of her days in Ortha, reeking of seaweed and brine, pretending to be something she was not. She was the princess of Eana, and she had spent her entire life preparing to be Queen. That destiny belonged to her and her alone.

The thought of confronting Willem made Rose feel ill, but with her eighteenth birthday looming, the Kingsbreath’s sway over her was finally waning, and she was no longer a little girl afraid of the world beyond the golden gates. She resolved to return to Anadawn at the earliest opportunity and face the man who had lied to her, no matter how much it terrified her. It was time he gave up his grip on the throne.

And so, as the days passed, she grew more observant. She learned as much as she could about the movements of the Ortha witches, and quietly, carefully planned her escape.

The day after her arrival, Banba had told Rose to start making herself useful, and Rose had quickly learned how few useful skills she possessed. She couldn’t cook or fish, nor could she clean or gut the fish without retching. She had no idea how to forage for plants or weave rope, and once, when she tried to mend an old tunic with Thea, she somehow managed to sew her own hair underneath the hem.

Tilda had been the one to suggest Rose help with her chores. So each morning Rose donned Wren’s old clothes and worn leather boots and braided her hair before heading down to the beach to help the young witch gather driftwood.

“My best friend, Celeste, would be shocked if she saw me now,” she told Tilda when they were looking for crabs in the surf one morning, almost two weeks after Rose had arrived in Ortha. “She’s always harping on about the virtues of trousers, but I’m afraid a queen and her noblewomen simply cannot be so informal.”

Tilda laughed as she skipped through the waves. “Wren has never worn a dress in her life. Not even on Candlemas! I think she will be a different kind of queen.”

“I’m sure she will,” said Rose mildly.

Tilda peered at her over her shoulder. “Are you sad to be missing your wedding? I heard Shen telling Banba at the bonfire about your special prince.

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