Twice A Novel Novels & Stories

Instead, I crawled to my straw bed near the grimy iron bars, burying my head in my makeshift pillow, unable to halt the flow of tears. The memory of the burning envelope haunted me, a cruel reminder of my lost opportunity to discover the truth about my parents, my past slipping away like smoke. "Aurora, are you alright?" a familiar voice inquired, accompanied by a comforting hand on my back. I brushed off the hand, not bothering to see who it belonged to, and squeezed my eyes shut. *** A lash of a whip struck my back, jolting me awake. The pain coursed through me, and I groaned, struggling to open my eyes. My dream had been of a twin. He looked like me, chestnut brown hair and all.

“Never. Marcus was sick from the minute he was born. As the boys grew, Marcus became sicker, so I moved the family to the country, hoping it would cure his aliment. It didn’t. I kept Matthew away from Marcus, mainly because I didn’t want the boys to become close and have Matthew mourn his twins’ death when it finally happened. Soon, I took Matthew and moved to London to prepare him for his title. His mother died and Marcus lived with his grandmother. It was during those years when his body finally failed and took his life.” Although the story was sad, familiarity nudged at her memory. Where had she heard this tale before? If she wasn’t mistaken, the sad story sounded so much like… She gasped

Well, I’m not 100% sure, but I’ve heard stories before, and this all just seems to fit. I’m listening. Once every thousand years, a particular set of twins will be born to a mated pair, one male and one female. If the secondborn is female, she will be blessed with a power so great that it will only be granted under certain conditions. To come into her powers, she must complete her first shift with her twin by her side. It must be done on the first full moon after their eighteenth birthday, and finally, the shift must take place on the land of their birth.

As I tied the sash around my waist, I realized that I could hear everything. The kitchen below, clinking dishes, someone humming. The courtyard: boots against gravel, horses snorting softly. The whisper of wings as a raven passed above the window. And… faintly, somewhere deep in the castle, their voices. Brynn and Frynn. They were talking quietly, the familiar syncopation of their twin voices merging and separating like waves. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was low, serious, determined. A faint ache pulsed at the sides of my neck where their marks rested, twin symbols of something sacred and eternal. It didn’t hurt; it thrummed, like a heartbeat beneath my skin.

“I know you love those.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah. I'd love some.” I almost laughed at the instant change in her after dessert was served. I watched her take bite after bite, grinning from ear to ear as she chewed and chatted with me in between. “Let's play twenty questions.” She blurted out. “Twenty questions?” I blinked in confusion. “What's that?” “I ask you a question, and you give me an honest answer. Then you get your turn.”

Horace yanked away the study materials from my hand roughly before leaving with VIvian's hand in his. They ended up going to the backyard garden, which was right in view from my window, so I had a perfect view of them reading books together. That evening, Agnes, the nanny, told me to go downstairs to eat after she finished cooking. I sat across the table from Horace and Vivian as they fed each other throughout the meal, and I didn't so much as raise my head, focusing on eating the meal in front of me.

As soon as the tea hit her lungs, her smile broadened, “You’re officially my favorite person.” Nana chuckled. “That’s just the exhaustion talking.” Zara took another careful sip, letting the warmth spread through her chest. “How were the twins? Hope they weren’t too much trouble?” Nana scoffed. “Oh, not at all. Unless you count the part where they staged a protest to keep the cartoons running until you got home.” Zara groaned, resting her head against the couch. “Why does that sound exactly like them?” “Because it is them,” Nana said, shaking her head with a fond smile.

" He couldn't bear it. His sword pierced her heart. Her body jerked—then slackened. She collapsed. But not before the faintest smile curled on her lips. She mouthed the words. You deserve this. And he did. To kill his princess. Twice.

She dug the novel out from beneath a stack of correspondence she'd been using to bury it, dust gathering faintly along its spine, and sat with it open in her lap for the first time in nearly two weeks. *The Villainess's Ruin.* She'd read it once, in her old life, curled up with tea gone cold beside her, treating it as nothing more than pleasant escapism before bed. She read it now with an entirely different kind of attention, searching each page for anything she might have skimmed past the first time, anything that might connect, however loosely, to a name like Renshaw.

Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read “Our Blank Canvas.” <3 This second book was meant to be explored through Vasilisa’s point of view, as she navigated through the difficulties of exploring her past as well as trying to move on in an entirely new Country. Additionally, I wanted to include the points of view of my supporting cast for various reasons. Each character has their own unique battle, and I felt it was necessary to allow them the chance to tell their story too. I began writing this novel after I completed “Our Young Funny Voices” June of 2019. I’ve completed it March of 2020. I’ve had an absolute blast writing it— but I’ve also cried and laughed along the way.