No one in all the kingdoms knew about our connection. Not since Nanny had passed away the previous year. She alone had known the true effect of the gift our godmother had given at our Christening. A greater bond than ever twins have shared before. And she had always advised us to keep it to ourselves.
“Your special secret,” Nanny had told us as children, and “Your special weapon,” as we had grown older. “It will unnerve others, unnecessarily,” she had warned. “You have no need to speak of it.”
I had wondered, sometimes, if she was wrong. If we should have told our family at least. But now I tucked the knowledge of the secret close. There was no way anyone in Marin could have heard of our connection so, whatever happened, we had one unexpected advantage.
The Marinese herded Celine along behind us and within moments had bustled us all into a waiting carriage. Their attempts to shut the door were hampered by Celine’s outstretched foot. “Wait,” she said. “Where are we going?”
“To the Palace, of course, Your Highness,” was the reply, before the door was forcibly closed. Celine collapsed back onto a seat, and I took her place, peering out the window.
The carriage jolted and started to move, and I watched the distant figures on the ship recede farther and farther away. Was it only minutes ago I had been comforted by the presence of the older nobles? It looked like I wasn’t going to be able to rely on them to fix things, after all. My earlier instinct had been right. If we wanted to stay safe, we would have to rely on ourselves.