“And I haven’t had a breakthrough, despite sleeping with it every night.” Thyra rubbed the back of her head. “Which, you can imagine, is about as comfortable as it sounds.”
“Well, you did return from a frost giant battle just days ago,” Saga said graciously. “And you quelled that squabble just earlier today.”
“Barely,” Thyra said. “They stopped throwing punches, but I could tell the locals weren’t fully convinced that the rebels were trustworthy.”
“You won’t change everyone’s mind in a day. But you probably planted a seed, and those can grow into the most beautiful things.” Marit reached into the bag and pulled out the box of chocolates. She set the blue box on the table between the chairs and took off the lid. The sweet smell filled the room. “As for the Crown, there’s no time like the present to have another go.”
Not at all in a hurry to use the Hallow, I smiled at my twin. “You first?”
Thyra took the Frør Crown in both hands and set it on her head. It struck me as lovely how well the Crown suited my sister. She was the picture of regal.
Thyra was stronger than me, with well-muscled arms and legs, and the scar that bisected her left eye gave her an air of grit. Add in that she was far more skilled with a bow and, like me, possessed powerful winter magic, and Thyra looked every bit a warrior queen.
My twin closed her eyes. By the measured way that she breathed, I could tell she was concentrating, trying to connect with the Crown.
I waited, hoping something would happen, but when Thyra’s jaw clenched, I feared we had reached another dead end.
She removed the Hallow from atop her head. “Nothing. Still nothing!”
Before she hurled it across the room, I took the Crown from her. “Perhaps it’s . . . still warming up?”
Thyra pursed her lips. “There’s nothing we can do to instigate visions, Saga?”
“Well, thereisa potion,” the princess looked uneasy saying the words, “but it’s meant for experienced seers. I haven’t even tried it because it’s so potent. Dangerous for those unused to visions, and maybe you don’t know this, but visions can be dangerous in themselves.”
“Right.” Thyra let out a huff. “Give me a damned chocolate.”
Marit thrust a box at my sister, and Thyra devoured three chocolates before I got up the courage to raise the Crown to my head. The metal settled over my hair, braided today in an intricate style of overlapping braids. I released the cold metal and exhaled. Waited.
“Anything?” Saga asked, gaze alight.
I gave it a few more seconds before lifting the metal circlet from my head and tossing it on the bed. “Nothing.”
Thyra let out a sigh so full of relief that my irritation, so close to the surface after recent events, flared to life.
“I don’t think I’ll try again.”
“What?” Saga’s voice rose. “Why?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, my sister doesn’t want the Crown to work for me again.” The pent-up frustration I’d been feeling laced my tone. Even though I didn’t like the Hallow I knew it was of great value. “Fates forbid it helps us through me.”
Thyra tossed her hands up in the air. “Am I so wrong for wanting something from our family to be mine and mine alone? The Crown has given you a vision, but not me, and I’m the one who should be most inclined to use it! The Blade chose you too.”
“You can use the Blade,” I countered.
And apparently make shadow forms,I did not add.
“Not as well as you.”
Something in me snapped. Although I’d been sure my sister had felt this way, we’d avoided the topic. Many topics, actually. Those issues, combined with the stress of recent events, made my stomach clench.
I marched towards the door and swung it open. Freyia and Astril stood before me, as still as stone.
“What’s wrong?” Astril asked lowly.
“I need space. Don’t follow me.”
“Isolde!” Thyra shouted. “Wait!”
