Stardust in Their Veins

Immerse yourself in the second book in a new fantasy trilogy from the author of the Princesses Beatriz and Daphne have lost the first of her sisters, but their mother''s grand scheme of taking the continent of Vesteria is far from complete. With the country of Temarin now under the Empress''s control, only the nations of Cellaria and Friv remain free from her rule. What''s worse, an ominous prophecy has begun to shine through the constellations: ; Usurped by the conniving cousins Nico and Gigi, Beatriz is fearful she might be next on the chopping block, while in icy Friv, Daphne continues her shaky alliance with the rebels even as she struggles to stay a step ahead of them. But when an unlikely ally offers Beatriz a deal, she finds herself back in her mother''s sights again.; ; With enemies around every corner and the stars whispering of betrayal, Daphne and Beatriz can''t trust anyone--least of all each other. If they''ve learned anything, though, it''s that the Empress''s game is constantly changing. And the arrival of surprise visitors from Temarin may just tip the scales in Daphne and Beatriz''s favor. If they manage to avoid meeting their sister''s fate before they can make their next move.;;

Autorentext

Laura Sebastian

Klappentext

Immerse yourself in the second book in a fantasy trilogy from the New York Times bestselling author of the Ash Pricess series. The sequel to Castles in Their Bones is the story of three princesses and the destiny they were born for: seduction, conquest, and the crown.

Princesses Daphne, Beatriz, and Sophronia have trained their entire lives for one purpose: to bring down nations. Their mother, Empress Margaraux of Bessemia, is determined to rule the continent of Vesteria, and her daughters are her weapons. Promised for marriage since birth, they are her ticket across enemy lines. And also her decoys.

Still, not even Empress Margaraux can control the stars. Sent to their new kingdoms, orders in hand, the princesses have found their own paths, changing the course of their mother’s plans entirely—and tragically. Sophronia chose love, and for that, she lost her life.

Daphne and Beatriz can hardly believe their sister is dead, but both are determined to avenge her. And now, separated by a continent—and their mother’s lies—they see more clearly with every passing day that they might not be working toward the same end.

The stars whisper of death, but Daphne and Beatriz are just beginning to understand the true power coursing through their veins. And their mother will do anything to keep them under her thumb—even if it means killing them all.

Leseprobe
Beatriz

Bea­triz paces her cell at the Cellarian Sororia nestled in the Alder Mountains, ten steps from wall to wall. It has been five days since she was brought here, sealed away in this sparse chamber with only a narrow bed, a threadbare blanket, and a pitcher of water set on a small wooden stool. It has been five days since she heard her sisters’ voices in her head, as clearly as if they were standing in the room beside her. Five days since she heard Sophronia die.

No. No, she doesn’t know that, not really. There were a dozen explanations for it, a dozen ways Bea­triz could make herself believe that her sister was still out there, still alive. Whenever Bea­triz closes her eyes, she sees Sophronia. In the silence of her room, she hears her laughter. Whenever she manages to sleep for a few hours, her nightmares are haunted by the last words she spoke.

They’re cheering for my execution. . . . There is so much more at play than we realized. I still don’t understand all of it, but please be careful. I love you both so much. I love you all the way to the stars. And I—­

And that had been all.

Bea­triz doesn’t understand the magic that made the com­munication possible—­that was Daphne, who’d done it once before to speak with Bea­triz alone. The magic had cut out then, too, but it was different the second time, like she could still feel Daphne’s presence a few seconds longer, her stunned silence echoing in Bea­triz’s mind before she too cut out.

But Sophronia can’t be dead. The thought is unfathomable. They came into the world together: Bea­triz, Daphne, then Sophronia. Surely none of them could leave it alone.

No matter how many times Bea­triz tells herself that, though, she never fully believes it. She felt it, after all, like a heart clawed out of her chest. Like something vital lost.

The sound of the lock scraping open echoes in Bea­triz’s cell and she turns toward the door, expecting one of the Sisters to bring her next meal, but the woman who enters is empty-­handed.

“Mother Ellaria,” Bea­triz says, her voice rough after so little use these past days.

Mother Ellaria is the Sister who greeted Bea­triz upon her arrival, leading her to her cell and giving her a change of clothes that look identical to what the older woman wears herself. Of those clothes, Bea­triz has only put on the gray wool dress. The headdress still sits at the foot of her bed.

In Bessemia, it was a great honor for Sisters to don their headdresses. There were ceremonies for them—­Bea­triz herself had attended several. It was a celebration to honor a woman’s choice to devote herself to the stars above all else.

But Bea­triz has chosen nothing, so the headdress remains off.

Mother Ellaria notes this, her eyes moving from Bea­triz’s messily braided red hair to the headdress sitting on the bed. She frowns before looking at Bea­triz once more.

“You have a visitor,” she says, disapproval filling every syllable.

“Who?” Bea­triz asks, but Mother Ellaria doesn’t answer, instead turning and walking out of the room, leaving Bea­triz no choice but to follow her down the dark hallway, her imagination running wild.

For an instant, Bea­triz imagines it is Sophronia—­that her sister has traveled from Temarin to assure her that she’s alive and well. But it’s far more likely to be her onetime friend Gisella, come to gloat again, or Gisella’s twin brother, Nico, here to see if a few days in the Sororia have changed her mind about his proposal.

If that’s the case, he’ll leave disappointed. Much as she hates it here, she prefers it to returning to the Cellarian palace while Pasquale lives out the rest of his life in the Fraternia on the other side of the Azina River.

Her chest tightens at the thought of Pasquale—­disinherited and imprisoned because she convinced him to trust the wrong people.

They haven’t seen the last of us, Pasquale said after their sentence for treason had been handed down. And soon enough, they’ll wish they’d killed us when they had a chance.

She lets the words echo in her mind as she follows Mother Ellaria down the dimly lit hallway, running through a mental list of all the ways she could overtake the frail older woman and escape . . . but escape where? The Alder Mountains are treacherous terrain even for those who are prepared to scale them. If Bea­triz were to escape, alone, with nothing more than a dress and cotton slippers, she wouldn’t stand a chance of living through the night.

Her mother always cautioned patience, and while it has never been Bea­triz’s strength, she knows it’s necessary now. So she keeps her hands at her sides and trails after Mother Ellaria as she rounds a corner, then another before stopping at a tall wooden door and fixing Bea­triz with a withering look, like she’s caught the scent of something rotten. Though Be…