All her worries had fizzled away like bubbles in champagne. She couldn’t even think of one of her fears for more than a few seconds if she tried—they were slippery in her mind.
Isla smiled as she began picking the petals off her dress. “I bet a flower has never picked itself ...” she said to absolutely no one. Then she laughed as she ripped the bottom layer off, stepping out of it with relief.
She turned around and found herself in a hallway she didn’t recognize. Had she already passed her room? Had she been too busy ruining her ridiculous dress to notice? She shrugged and kept going, unraveling herself until the flower dress ended high above her knees, leaving behind a trail of petals. She walked until she reached a dead end. Isla frowned at the wall, then whipped around at the sound of a voice.
“Isla?”
She smiled far too wide, excitement flooding through her veins as quickly as the wine had. “Oro,” she said, his supposed nonbetrayal feeling worlds away. All she remembered was she was supposed to be nice to him and hope he kept his promise. She walked over to the king, bare feet stepping over petals. She must have taken her shoes off at some point. Isla laughed at herself for what she was about to do, barely keeping it together enough to stand high on her toes and flick his crown.
He blinked at her. Then he frowned. “Are you all right?”
Isla rolled her eyes. “You’re always so angry ...why?Do you ever smile?”Yes.He had smiled at her, just once.
She was still on her toes, and the ground seemed to slip under her like a rug. Before she could fall back, Oro grabbed her elbow to steady her. He immediately dropped her arm.
Isla scowled at him. “I’m notpoisonous,” she said, rolling her eyes again for good measure.
She turned and swayed down the hall to music that seemed to be playing through her bones.
“I’ll take you to your room ... if you would like?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Fine. I was going there ... but the hallways changed.” She looked at him for explanation, and he glanced at her like she had said something ridiculous. Isla blinked, not knowing what it could possibly be.
He suddenly looked alarmed. “Did you drink the haze?”
Isla nodded enthusiastically. Was that what the wine was called? She was humming something. No, she was singing. She opened her mouth, and her voice flooded the halls. She liked the way it echoed, and she sang louder.
She had never felt so alive ... like her throat and arms and face were on fire and glowing, buzzing.
Why hadn’t Poppy and Terra ever allowed her such pleasures?
She didn’t realize she was partially speaking her thoughts aloud until Oro said, “Your guardians?”
Luckily, Oro was leading the way, because she hadn’t processed any of the last hallways or turns. She nodded. “Did you have guardians?”
He was silent for a few moments before he said, “No, I didn’t. I was never supposed to be ruler, or king. My brother was the one with guardians.”
“So, what did you think you would be?” Words slipped off her tongue so easily, she wondered why it had ever felt hard to ask him anything.
“I led our armies.”
Isla stopped in the hallway. She placed her hands on her hips. “Youcommanded the Lightlark armies?”
She expected him to glare at her, but he didn’t. He just nodded. It made sense, though. That was why he had been so good at dueling. Shestarted walking again, slower this time. He matched her pace. “That’s why you hate him, isn’t it?”
He seemed to know she meant Grim. While she had heard of the Nightshade’s previous title, Terra hadn’t ever told her about Oro. She wondered why. Did she even know herself? She supposed the Sunling king’s reputation and history prior to the curses had been smothered by everything that had come after them. “We both lost many warriors,” he said. “And I didn’t agree with the way he fought.” He didn’t explain further, and then they were at her door. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked. Oro looked over his shoulder, verifying the guards had followed. They had and stood in their places against the wall, guarding the entrance to the hall.
Isla nodded. “I’ll be fine.” When he turned to go, however, she caught his wrist. “Wait. I still have so many questions. Will you come in?” Oro looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but Isla wasn’t deterred. “I’ll make tea,” she added.
She entered. At her insistence, he followed. Oro warmed some water, and she found the pouch of Wildling spices and flowers that made her favorite drink, a tea she called yellow bee.
“Why yellow bee?” Oro asked before taking a sip. He seemed to like it.
Isla plopped down next to him on her couch and shrugged. “The plant that grows these flowers was always swarming with bees,” she said. “I used to get at least three stings every time I tried to collect them for tea. But it was worth it.”
Oro gave her a strange look.
“You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?” she asked, leaning toward him, squinting at the purple beneath his eyes.
