The Opal Crown

1. Map
   
2. Dedication and Copyright
   
3. Title Page
   
4. Prologue
   
5. Part One
   
   1. Chapter 1 • Wilha
      
   2. Chapter 2 • Elara
      
   3. Chapter 3 • Elara
      
   4. Chapter 4 • Wilha
      
   5. Chapter 5 • Elara
      
   6. Chapter 6 • Elara
      
   7. Chapter 7 • Wilha
      
   8. Chapter 8 • Elara
      
   9. Chapter 9 • Wilha
      
   10. Chapter 10 • Elara
       
   11. Chapter 11 • Wilha
       
   12. Chapter 12 • Wilha
       
   13. Chapter 13 • Elara
       
   14. Chapter 14 • Wilha
       
   15. Chapter 15 • Elara
       
   16. Chapter 16 • Wilha
       
   17. Chapter 17 • Elara
       
   18. Chapter 18 • Wilha
       
   19. Chapter 19 • Elara
       
   20. Chapter 20 • Elara
       
   21. Chapter 21 • Wilha
       
   22. Chapter 22 • Elara
       
   23. Chapter 23 • Wilha
       
   24. Chapter 24 • Elara
       
   25. Chapter 25 • Wilha
       
   26. Chapter 26 • Elara
       
6. Part Two
   
   1. Chapter 27 • Andrei
      
   2. Chapter 28 • Wilha
      
   3. Chapter 29 • Wilha
      
   4. Chapter 30 • Elara
      
   5. Chapter 31 • Wilha
      
   6. Chapter 32 • Elara
      
   7. Chapter 33 • Wilha
      
   8. Chapter 34 • Elara
      
   9. Chapter 35 • Wilha
      
   10. Chapter 36 • Elara
       
   11. Chapter 37 • Wilha
       
   12. Chapter 38 • Elara
       
   13. Chapter 39 • Wilha
       
   14. Chapter 40 • Elara
       
   15. Chapter 41 • Elara
       
   16. Chapter 42 • Wilha
       
   17. Chapter 43 • Elara
       
   18. Chapter 44 • Elara
       
   19. Chapter 45 • Wilha
       
   20. Chapter 46 • Elara
       
   21. Chapter 47 • Elara
       
   22. Chapter 48 • Wilha
       
   23. Chapter 49 • Elara
       
   24. Chapter 50 • Elara
       
   25. Chapter 51 • Wilha
       
   26. Chapter 52 • Elara
       
   27. Chapter 53 • Wilha
       
   28. Chapter 54 • Wilha
       
   29. Chapter 55 • Elara
       
   30. Chapter 56 • Wilha
       
   31. Chapter 57 • Elara
       
   32. Chapter 58 • Elara
       
   33. Chapter 59 • Wilha
       
   34. Chapter 60 • Wilha
       
7. Part Three
   
   1. Chapter 61 • Andrei
      
   2. Chapter 62 • Elara
      
   3. Chapter 63 • Wilha
      
   4. Chapter 64 • Elara
      
   5. Chapter 65 • Wilha
      
   6. Chapter 66 • Elara
      
   7. Chapter 67 • Wilha
      
   8. Chapter 68 • Elara
      
   9. Chapter 69 • Wilha
      
   10. Chapter 70 • Elara
       
8. Part Four
   
   1. Chapter 71 • Elara
      
   2. Chapter 72 • Wilha
      
   3. Chapter 73 • The Queen of Galandria
      
   4. Chapter 74 • Three Years Later...
      
9. Acknowledgments
   

To Logan and Chloe.

The world is a better place because you two are in it.

Copyright © 2014 by Jenny Lundquist
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International
Copyright Conventions

Printed in the United States

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.

Books published by Running Press are available at special discounts for bulk purchases in the United States by corporations, institutions, and other organizations. For more information, please contact the Special Markets Department at the Perseus Books Group, 2300 Chestnut Street, Suite 200, Philadelphia, PA 19103, or call (800) 810-4145, ext. 5000, or e-mail
[email protected]
.

Ebbok ISBN 978-0-7624-5552-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014946596

Cover and interior design by T.L. Bonaddio
Edited by Marlo Scrimizzi
Typography: Berling, Lavanderia, and Trade Gothic

Published by Running Press Teens
An Imprint of Running Press Book Publishers
A Member of the Perseus Books Group
2300 Chestnut Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103–4371

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K
ing Fennrick lies in his bed, cursing the spoiled meat that has rendered him bedridden. He has never cared for being alone and has always loved the glittering thrum of the royal court. Solitude gives a man too much time to think, and if there is one thing King Fennrick tries not to do, it is think too deeply. For when he does, the shadows he keeps at bay through forced gaiety slip past his guard and creep toward him.

One day, he supposes, those shadows will strangle him.

Fennrick hollers for more ale and leans back on his silken pillows, dreaming of the amber liquid and the oblivion it will grant him. Oblivion is not the same thing as absolution, but on dark nights like these, it is close enough.

His golden bed curtains are swept aside. It is not his cupbearer who appears, but his son. He carries a steaming mug of foul-smelling muck, and Fennrick is sorely tempted to throw the boy out.

“I asked for ale,” the king says through gritted teeth.

“Tea is better for your stomach, Father,” Andrei
Andewyn replies.

Fennrick stares at the boy. This is his son. Has he ever loved him? Is it possible to love someone who never should have been born? Fennrick forced his wife—a woman whom he truly
did
love—to conceive a child, when her soul was already broken. He is responsible for her death, though he suspects the boy blames himself.

Andrei stares back at the man who has broken his heart every day of his life. This is his father. Has he ever loved him? Is it possible to love someone who looks right through you, as though a ghost has always stood behind? Andrei looks
down at his hands—hands that will one day rule a king
dom—and wonders how he is supposed to become a king when his father won’t even teach him how to be a man.

Grudgingly, Fennrick sips the tea and bitter warmth floods his stomach. But he is clumsy and thick-fingered. The mug drops and the tea spills; a dark, spreading stain recedes into the shadows.

Perhaps the tea is slowly working through his stupor; or perhaps King Fennrick has just had a clear thought, all on his very own: It will not just be the crown Andrei inherits, but Fennrick’s sins as well.

He beckons his son forward, and begins whispering of the night that shattered his own soul.

A frigid draft creeps into the room. Candles flicker; bed curtains flutter. Andrei’s shocked stare locks with Fennrick’s weary one.

“Twins?” Andrei whispers.

Fennrick, for once looking his son directly in his eyes, nods.

And the shadows, released from their bindings, come slithering toward them both.

Chapter 1

Wilha

E
very day I tell myself I should be happy with the life I have chosen. I have fled the gilded walls of my former existence. A life filled with everything anyone could ever want, save for true friendship and love. I walked away from all of it—me, the girl so many others always believed to be fearful and incompetent—and built another life.

As I wrap my thick winter cloak about me, I look around the small bedroom I rent above the Sleeping Dragon. I remind myself that it is paid for by the fruits of my own labor. That I am free to come and go as I please. Free to show my face to the world. Perhaps more than most people, I understand these things are riches beyond measure.

I grab a handful of klarents off my writing desk and count
them. It is not much, but it should be enough to pay
Marko
tonight.

I lock the door to my room and head for the staircase. Downstairs the inn is full, even on such a gelid night—just as I hoped. A group of weather-beaten fishermen hunch over the bar, trying to chase away winter’s chill with mugs of ale. Musicians play near the fireplace while the townspeople dance. Victor, the owner, patrols the length of the inn, making sure the festivities do not get out of hand. James is serving a table of men and women, all of whom are wearing costume masks.

Victor scowls when he sees me. “You know I can’t spare James tonight. Do you have to visit the castle gates again?”

“I have been living in Korynth for nearly six months now,” I remind him. “I think I can manage the streets just fine by myself.”

Victor crosses his arms over his massive chest. “One would think you purposely choose our busiest nights to watch the Masked Princess appear on the balcony.”

I pause, for he is right. I choose the nights James cannot
possibly accompany me. “I will not be too late, Victor,
I promise.”