The Opal Crown by Jenny Lundquist

actions. After all, she was not formally removed until after Andrei was born, and by then rumors about her and the mask had spread. It seemed fitting to allow the crown to pass to Andrei—a healthy boy—rather than risk it on a girl who the whole kingdom feared may be deformed, or cursed, or something worse. But now that Andrei is failing to win over the public, there are more than a few who are suggesting that the true heir to the crown is Wilhamina.”
    “But if they’re calling for Wilhamina’s ascension, why have you come to me with this?”
    “Because if Wilhamina does not wish to rule—as I do not believe she does—then under the established laws of succession the crown should pass to the next eldest child of King Fennrick and Queen Astrid.” He pauses. “That would be you.”
    “What you’re suggesting is treason,” I say, glancing at the closed door. “Both of us could be executed if anyone hears this.”
    “No one in this tavern is a friend to Andrei.” Lord Royce leans forward. “Think carefully, Elara. All your life you have been a pawn of the Andewyns. And as long as your existence is kept a secret, that’s all you’ll ever be. But what if instead of being a pawn—a piece to be moved around, subjected always to the will and whims of another—you became a player yourself?”
    “A player, for the crown? I know nothing about being a queen.”
    “You knew nothing about being a princess, yet you lived as one quite convincingly. And this time would be different. You would not be assuming the name or the life of another. Rather, you would be announcing your own intentions to ascend the throne. The rightful heir, with a stronger claim than Andrei.”
    “This is madness,” I say, shaking my head.
    “ This is palace politics. Something Andrei is all too aware of—particularly with Lord Murcendor whispering in his ear.”
    “But Wilha is in the palace with the two of them now. Are you saying she isn’t safe?”
    Lord Royce looks at me steadily. “I am saying, Elara, that while Andrei sits on the throne, Wilha—and you—will never be safe.”
    “What if I refuse? Will you allow me to just walk out of here, or will I find myself thrown into a cell again?”
    “I have no intention of harming you. If you refuse, you are free to go.”
    “Free?” I snap my fingers. “Just like that?”
    “Yes. In fact, I will have to insist that you leave immediately and not return to Rolf and Alinda’s. I have already asked too much of my niece and nephew, and I will not require them to continue harboring you if you are uninterested in pursuing a claim to the crown. I will make arrangements to smuggle you out of the city and send you away with enough worthings to begin a new life.”
    “A new life?” I laugh. “You just told me you hired men to watch over me in Tulan. Will I spend the rest of this new life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the inevitable day you or someone else decides they have need of another Andewyn heir?”
    “If you join with me and we are successful, you need never look over your shoulder ever again.” Lord Royce sips his mug. “When we walked through the streets just now, what did you see?”
    “Poverty and hunger. Nothing I haven’t seen a thousand times before.”
    “In the village you grew up in, yes. But this is Allegria, the very center of the kingdom. Do you want to know what I see when I walk the streets? I see a kingdom on the brink of collapse. Unless,” he pauses, “someone rises up with a mind to undo the harm your family’s rule has done. And as you said yourself, you have seen poverty and hunger countless times. Wilha, on the other hand, has known only the halls of the Opal Palace all her life.”
    “Not all her life,” I say, thinking of the year we spent in Korynth. “Don’t underestimate my sister—”
    I break off, keenly aware that for the first time, I have publicly acknowledged Wilha as my sister. “Why are you doing this?” I say, changing