“Nottrapped... just ... protected.”
Oro didn’t push the subject, and she was glad. She hurried to ask a question of her own. “Have you ever been in love?”
His answer was immediate. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Kings of Lightlark do not fall in love. It makes us vulnerable. Our power becomes unprotected.” He glanced at her. “I suppose we are similar in that regard ... in our inability to have that.”
Because of the Wildling curse.“I suppose so.” She thought of Grim. His hands across her dress. Clutching her to his chest. It wasn’t herturn, but she had to know. “Do you think it’s possible for a ruler to love another ruler? Truly, without any agenda?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not truly.”
A part of her wilted inside. But he had to be wrong. Just because he had never experienced love didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. “So, your brother really wasn’t in love with his bride-to-be?”
Oro shrugged a shoulder. “Egan loved Aurora. But not in that way.”
“How would you know?”
Oro met her gaze. “They didn’t share abilities.” Falling in love meant sharing access to one’s power with their beloved. It was what made rulers falling in love so dangerous.
“Your turn,” she said quietly. She had asked several questions in a row and was surprised he had answered them.
“Did you know Grim previous to the Centennial?”
Isla stilled at the mention of him, as if Oro had plucked him from her thoughts. She answered honestly. “No.”
He looked at her strangely.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not working with him against you, don’t worry.” It was true.
Oro’s expression settled into something she hadn’t expected ... relief mixed with surprise. Isla immediately shifted the subject away from the Nightshade ruler. “What’s your favorite part of Lightlark?”
He scratched the side of his head, just below his crown. “There’s this secluded stretch of beach on Sun Isle, along a cliff ... with giant coals in the water that sizzle when the sea hits them.” He lifted his gaze, eyes on the ceiling. “The sea is a strange shade there ... dark green. The color of your eyes.”
Isla glared at the wordstrangeto describe her eyes but mumbled, “Sounds beautiful.”
His arms stretched over his head. “Your singing,” he said simply.
She blinked. Part of her had forgotten that he had heard her, so many weeks before. “What about it?”
He shrugged. “Tell me about it.”
Isla looked toward the mouth of the cave. The sunlight still glittered brightly. “It’s calming to me. Something I was born being good at, without really trying.”
“Like swordplay?”
“No. That was hard. I wasn’t naturally good at it, not like the singing. It used to frustrate me to no end ... Terra, my fighting instructor, would scold my impatience constantly.” She sighed. “So, I practiced. A lot. Every day, all day, all the time. Until the sword was weightless in my hand. Until it was a part of me, just as much as my voice was. Iforcedit to be.”
Oro studied her but said nothing. It was her turn.
Finally. It was time to ask her question, for the sake of her own sanity. Just to make sure she had made the right decision in calling off her search. It was a risky thing to say aloud. But now, on the fifty-fourth day of the Centennial, every action seemed like a risk. “Is there a relic on the island that can break any bond? That can break the curses of the ones that wield it?”
She studied his face desperately, looking for any sign of recognition, any hint of surprise. The king’s eyebrowsdidcome together. But, more than anything, Oro looked confused. “No,” he said firmly. “If there was, I would have found a way to use it.”
She believed him. It was a foolish thing to do, but she did.
Which meant the bondbreaker either never existed ... or was destroyed before the king had learned about it.
