Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3)(56)

“Pesky crow,” she says softly. “Always flying off places.”

“She flapped around happily and then tried to peck my eyes out. Just like Madrigal would have done. Where is she?”

A shadow crosses her aunt’s face. “Let’s go and see her. She will want to hear all your news. Juniper will sit with your friends, to make sure that Willa does not chase them off with a pitchfork when she returns from the barn.”

Quietly, Jules follows her aunt past the drawing room and the kitchen, down the long hall to the same room where Arsinoe recovered from the bolt that Katharine shot into her back.

Madrigal is in the bed. That alone is a strange enough sight. Though Madrigal was lazy about many things, she never overslept or lingered under blankets. She wanted too much of the world to lose one minute of daylight. But even more a shock is how small she looks, lessened by the sheer size of her belly, pregnant with a child by Matthew Sandrin. Joseph’s older brother.

“Madrigal. What are you doing here?”

Her mother pushes against her pillows, and Caragh moves past Jules to help, sitting her up and slipping another pillow behind her back. The uncharacteristically sisterly gesture makes Jules go cold.

“I could ask you the same.” Madrigal pats the quilt, and Jules goes closer. “Returned to the island and no word? When did you get back? Where have you been?”

“I actually never left. I’ve been in Bastian City, with the warriors.”

“You could’ve gotten a message to us.” Madrigal pauses at a tapping; Aria the crow is at the window, and Caragh goes to let the bird in. She flies once around the room and lands on the top corner bedpost.

“I didn’t want to make any more trouble for Grandma Cait and Ellis. I figured they had enough on their hands just dealing with my reputation.”

“Liar. You know your grandparents can handle that and more. They’re worried. They’re wondering. The fields are terrible. And Luke. When poor Luke heard the rumors about the Legion Queen, he wept.”

“The rumors have reached you, then?”

“They have reached us. But where is Arsinoe? And Joseph? Billy and the elemental?”

Jules shifts her weight to lean against Camden.

“Arsinoe, Billy, and Mirabella made it to the mainland. I guess that’s where they are now. As for Joseph . . .” She stops, and Madrigal places a hand atop her stomach. “He’s dead. But I think you probably guessed that.”

“He looked very bad when you left us by the river,” says Caragh. “But I hoped. I’m so sorry, Jules.”

“I’m sorry, too,” adds Madrigal. “He was a good boy.”

He was more than that, but Jules clears her throat.

“I’m sorry I made Luke cry. I guess I should have found a way to tell everyone.”

“Oh, Luke cries at the drop of a hat.” Madrigal waves her hand and wipes quickly at her eyes. She is pale, and that crow of hers is never so close by.

“Now what’s wrong? Why are you in bed? I didn’t think the baby would come until winter.”

“He won’t,” says Caragh. “Willa and I are making sure of it.”

Jules glances around the room. It has a strange, stale smell she does not remember and on the corner dresser is a tray of dirty cups and a plate of half-eaten root vegetables and greens.

“Nettle leaf tea,” Caragh explains. “And fanroot. If she eats it every day, it will ease the early contractions.”

“A waste of time. Trying to hold this baby in. He won’t come until he’s ready, and he will be perfectly safe.”

“What do you mean?” Jules asks.

Caragh sighs. She has heard this tale many times before. “Your mother saw a vision in a fire, when she was dabbling with Arsinoe and her low magic.”

“At the bent-over tree, you mean?”

“Yes,” Madrigal interrupts. “I saw a vision in the fire that day, a fire stoked by queensblood, in that sacred space. So I know it is true.” She pauses and looks at Jules, her face a mix of stubbornness and regret. “I saw my son born alive. Strong and red and screaming. And sitting atop my dead gray corpse.”





THE MAINLAND




Mirabella and Arsinoe sit together at a table in a quiet tearoom. It is not the most popular establishment in the city—the biscuits are dry and there are stains on the tablecloth—but at least they have some privacy and do not have to be seated in some dark corner because Arsinoe still refuses to wear dresses.

Since their encounter with Queen Illiann’s shadow in the graveyard, they have had to find places besides the Chatworth house to talk. Billy’s mother has been pushed to her limit, and on any day may try to put them out on the street.

“I want to seek more low magic,” Arsinoe says, but Mirabella shakes her head and rubs the scab on her forearm.

“No more. She wants us to go back to the island. More low magic will only make her stronger.”

“You don’t know that; you’re just afraid. And so am I. But I can’t take much more of these dreams. Every time I close my eyes, I’m someone else. I’m Daphne. And I’m tired.”

“You are curious,” says Mirabella. “I see you, Arsinoe. You are more and more drawn into the dreams. Her bait is working.” The door to the shop opens, and Arsinoe glances toward the entrance. A woman and her two small children have come inside. Two little girls, holding hands and pointing at which biscuits they would like on the display.