Cecily recounted her jewels, as she did every night. Her fight with Rory had forced her to count and recount.

But it couldn't have been her.

Ever since they'd arrived, Rory had been acting strange, avoiding Cecily's questions and doing odd things—odd, even for Rory. After everything Cecily had said, there was no way Rory would open up to her.

Why won't she talk to me?

Cecily had given her every opportunity to come clean both before and after dinner, but Rory insisted on keeping secrets. Cecily bit back the tears threatening to spill forth. She shouldn't have yelled at Rory like that, but she'd been so angry! Why wouldn't Rory just tell her the truth?

She hasn't even told me about her attraction to Tom.

"Why does Rory keep going to bed early?" Cecily asked, returning to the main sitting room where Doreen and Muriel waited for her, Gayla having already gone to bed. "Has she said anything to either of you?"

"She's probably just upset about your fight," Muriel said in a tone of disinterest. "She'll calm down by morning."

"But she's done this multiple times since we've arrived."

"Maybe she's meeting a man," Doreen said with waggling eyebrows.

"Not likely," Muriel said with a snort. "Even if Rory noticed a man, I doubt he'd think much of her."

"Hold your tongue," Cecily ordered with a pointed glare at Muriel.

Muriel's eyebrows arched. "You're allowed to tell Rory to her face what a horrible person she is, but I'm not allowed to comment when she's not even here?"

"I didn't tell her she was a horrible person!"

"You did." Muriel went back to focusing on her nails. "Rory's never wanted anything but your safety. It's rather annoying, but she's like your little bulldog. She'd do anything for you, and you jumped down her throat for wanting some sleep."

"She's not tired," Cecily insisted. "Something's wrong, and she isn't telling me about it."

Muriel's cool blue eyes flickered to Cecily. "And it's your right to demand that of her? Tell me, are you interested in Ephraim, or are you just enjoying the attention?"

Cecily frowned. "That's a horrible thing to ask."

"Why? Because neither answer is becoming? Maybe the truth won't cast Rory in the best light either, and so she doesn't want to confess it." Muriel leaned back against the arm of the chair.

"You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?" Doreen asked Muriel.

"Of course," Muriel turned her lazy gaze on Doreen, "but I own it. It's everyone else who pretends they're something they're not."

Cecily considered Muriel. One of the things that drew Cecily to Muriel also aggravated her—Muriel's honesty. What if Muriel was right? Part of Cecily wanted to patch things up with Rory, but another part wanted to find Ephraim—find him and put an end to all of this madness.

"Whatever you're thinking," Muriel said, turning her nose up, "I'd stop now if I were you."

"Is it that obvious?" Cecily asked, brow arching.

"Oh, come now." Doreen rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with fancying a prince?"

"Nothing. Unless you're engaged to his brother."

"It's not like Myrzellians are all that concerned about having a paramour." Doreen shifted her long onyx waves back over her shoulder. "I say we go swimming tomorrow in the pools. What do you think?"

"You expect us to wade nude with a throng of strangers?" Muriel asked, making a gagging noise.

Cecily let their bickering waft over her until a small cough drew her attention.

"My apologies, Your Highness." Rory's maid, Daegan said, dipping into a bow. "Prince Ephraim requested I bring this to you." She held a scroll bearing the royal seal.

"Where did you come from?" Muriel asked, her mouth downturned. The maid didn't answer.

Cecily accepted the missive, breaking the seal and unraveling the parchment. A few short lines awaited her, and she read them quickly.

Cecily,

I know I don't have the right, but I ask that you let me argue my case for your heart. Meet me at the third hour by the pools where we can speak privately.

Love (how thrilled I am to write this word),

Ephraim

Cecily stared at the message, re-reading it several times before lowering it, her stomach sinking. Daegan had left, her duty fulfilled.

"What? What's it say?" Muriel asked.

"Who's it from?" Doreen demanded.

"Ephraim. He wants me to meet him by the pools tonight."

Muriel jerked her head back, her nose scrunching. "Why would he want to do that?"

"So he can plead for my heart."

Doreen let out a delighted squeal. "Oh my heavens! You must go!"

"Like hells she will." Muriel turned a sharp gaze on Cecily. "I know you're considering it, but what would Rory want you to do?"

With a scoff, Cecily pushed herself to her feet. "Like you've ever cared what Rory thought." Even as she said it, she could hear Rory in her head. Never trust someone you barely know, especially if they want to get you alone.

But I know Ephraim. This is different. Besides, this has gone too far. I have to let him down easy or lose myself to him completely.

If what she thought was true, why did she feel a wriggling guilt in the pit of her stomach? "I should at least hear what he has to say," Cecily said, glancing back down at the letter, now scrunched in her hand. "Shouldn't I?"

"Yes!"

"No."

"She should." Doreen leaped to her feet and rushed to Cecily's side. "If she doesn't, she'd be insulting our host."

"She shouldn't." Muriel sauntered to the opposite side. "She'd be betraying her fiancé. Besides," it was Muriel's turn to toss her ginger hair over one shoulder, "what if she turns him down and he attacks her?"

"Why would he attack her?" Doreen put one hand on her curvaceous hip. "Maybe she likes what he has to say and accepts. I don't see how her doing this hurts you, Muriel, which is all you ever care about."

"Contrary to popular opinion, Doreen, I care plenty about what happens to Cecily. You're too busy thinking with your body and not your brain!"

"Maybe if you thought with your body once in a while you wouldn't be such a frigid—"

"Ladies!" Cecily's shout drowned out Doreen's insult. "Thank you for your concern. I think I'll turn in. Muriel has a point. Traveling around a strange place in the middle of the night is unwise. I can speak with Ephraim, should I choose, in the daylight."

Muriel made a triumphant hmph at Doreen and strode off toward her room. "You're doing the right thing, Cecily. Rory would be proud, even if she can't stand the sight of you right now."

"Like she cares," Doreen muttered, shooting a glare at Muriel's back before turning to Cecily. "If Rory cared so much about who you see and what you do, she'd be here. I know you think she's your friend, but what kind of friend keeps secrets like she does?"

"What are you saying?" Cecily asked.

"Maybe Rory doesn't care as much as you think she does. Maybe you shouldn't care so much about her feelings either. That argument tonight proved it—you two aren't as close as you thought. You could be staking your future happiness on the opinion of someone who couldn't care less about you."

Cecily's retort died on her tongue as Doreen abandoned her side, crossing to her room. For several seconds, Cecily stood by herself in the middle of her chambers, a sick, empty feeling swelling in her gut.

Rory cares, she told herself, her feet plodding toward the doors of her sleeping chamber. It was just a spat. We'll be fine by morning.

She hardly speaks to you anymore except to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. Why didn't Rory spend time with her like she used to?

She's giving you privacy.

She's jealous.

She couldn't care less.

Cecily closed her double doors. Depression wrapped itself around her like a thick blanket, urging her to give up. What did any of it matter if her best friend didn't care?

If she was stealing from her?

Rebellion sparked a hint of life into Cecily's heart. She glanced back down at the letter still in her hand. What would it hurt to just go and see Ephraim and hear what he had to say?

#

At night, the halls of the palace didn't give the sense of warmth or life that they did during the day.

Cold seeped into her being, clinging to her very core. Cecily shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Despite the tropical climate, the air felt frosty. This is ridiculous! Go back to your room and go to sleep. You're making a huge mistake.

Cecily paused, cursing in a loud whisper. "Why does my conscience sound like Rory's voice?" She pressed on, pushing away the unbidden thoughts screaming against the choice she'd made.

Her heart thumped with wild abandon so plangent she felt sure she'd wake the whole palace. From the top steps, she could see Ephraim standing down by the water, staring out into the night. Moonlight illuminated the pool and made everything else seem colorless beside its blue, shining surface. With a steadying breath, Cecily descended the steps.

"Ephraim," she breathed, and her whisper felt like a shout in the dense silence. He turned, his white teeth shining as she approached.

"Cecily, you came. I wasn't sure you would."

"Neither was I." She let out a little huff of laughter, finding it hard to catch her breath.

He took her hands in his, biting down on his lower lip. "I'm glad you did. I know it isn't anything either of us expected, but I confess I've loved you since the first moment I saw you."

Her breath hitched, her whole body tensing with anticipation of what he'd say next—for he couldn't seriously mean he'd loved her at first sight. Even as her heart raced, she could imagine Rory standing just behind Ephraim, her arms folded as she shook her head in disappointment. The memory of their argument helped her ignore it.

Not now.

"I haven't known you for long, but I think it's safe to say I've known you and loved you longer than my brother has. I know for a fact I could make you a happier queen than he could. Marry me, Cecily. Be with me tonight. We'll go get the high priest by morning, and no one will be able to stop us."

The image of Rory wouldn't abate. It was as if Rory stood watching her as Ephraim's words sank in. What did he mean be with him? "I—I'm just not sure. Perhaps if we waited until Rakesh returned—"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind my intervention. Cecily, if you're concerned with whether you'd love him more than me . . ." Ephraim trailed off, his eyes filled with hurt.

"No, it isn't that. I do like you, and I don't know him, but I think I'd feel better if he were here to speak his piece the way you've spoken yours."

"You like me?" He blinked. "That word . . . it's used for the weather or a new tunic. Not for romance. In Myrzel, we use our whole hearts, not our heads, when it comes to love. I want to be with you now, Cecily. I love you."

"Well," Cecily pulled her hands away, her stomach twisting into a knot of discomfort, "I'm not from Myrzel, and in Dellsby, we try to think through our actions. The truth is, I don't know you well enough to love you. I don't know Rakesh at all, so I certainly don't love him, but I would feel better if he were allowed to say his piece before we undid all your mother's hard work in the agreement with my parents and the alliance with Dellsby."

"How is this not the same thing? Your parents agreed for you to marry the prince of Myrzel. I'm a prince of Myrzel."

"Yes, but my parents agreed to my marriage to the crown prince of Myrzel. The one set to inherit the throne and make me queen."

Ephraim nodded with vigorous speed. "In Myrzel, the magic passes to the first twin to marry a royal. You can still be queen." His tone seemed almost panicked, having lost the romantic purr he'd used when she first arrived.

"W-What?" Cecily let out a little squeak. "If you marry me, you'll be king?" Is that what all of this was about? There was no chance in all the hells she was going to help Ephraim steal his brother's birthright.

Ephraim seemed to notice her shock. "That's not why I want to marry you."

"You just said you wanted it done before anyone could stop us," she said, taking a step away from him.

"No. That was for you. I don't care if I'm king! It's just that Rakesh doesn't want it, so I thought—"

"I'd feel much better if I heard what Rakesh does or doesn't want from his own lips, thank you," Cecily said with more force than she had thought possible. Arguing with her wasn't going to get Ephraim anywhere. She'd stand her ground, and that would be it.

"Rakesh is already in love with another woman. He has no intention of coming back. I want you, Cecily. Isn't that enough?"

If he'd slapped her, she would have been less shocked. "You want me." She pursed her lips as her every muscle tensed. "Interesting choice of words. 'Want' is a word used for your dinner or something you own." She felt a thrill of power as she turned his earlier words back on him. "I will not marry you tonight, Ephraim. I'm going to wait until Rakesh returns. If you still want me when he returns, that's fine. We can speak with him about it, and if you've lost the attitude I find so displeasing this evening and remember the gentleman you're supposed to be, we can discuss moving forward with his blessing."

Ephraim had the decency to drop his head as he made a little jerking motion with his hand. "You're right."

Cecily paused, having partially turned away from him, and looked back. "I am?"

"Of course you are." Heaving a loud sigh, he tilted his head back. "You're not a horse to be bought or a game to be won. Tom kept saying you weren't like all the others."

"Others?" What others?

Ephraim ignored her question. "I understand waiting, Cecily. I promise to earn back your trust. If you want a hero out of the story books, that's what I'll give you."

She waited, her gaze narrowing as she considered him. "I would appreciate that. I'm not like other girls from your country, Ephraim."

"I know. I swear I'll—" Ephraim broke off, his eyes widening. "Cecily, behind you!"

A hand clamped over her mouth before she could turn to see who it was. In front of her, Ephraim grappled with another man, who hit the prince square in the jaw and sent him sailing backward into the pools.

Before Cecily could get a counterattack in, the second man said a spell, directing his magic into her face.

The world tilted asblackness engulfed her.

And that's the first 11 chapters of A Stolen Crown!

Get your copy RIGHT MEOW wherever books are sold (many of the links can be found at www.swanitude.com/my-books.html) 

I hope you'll continue with Rory and Cecily's story. I'm hoping one day my publisher will let me put the rest on Wattpad - but until then! 

You. Rock.

MUAH

(PS I have a mailing list at www.swanitude.com to keep updated on ALL the things as well as other books here on Wattpad - the Phoenix Chronicles have no plans of coming down any time soon!)