Much of the room was empty, and everyone was breathtakingly young. Children, mostly. Only a few dozen looked to be around her age.
They watched as she walked through the crowd, to the front of the throne room. There were no seats, and because they were all standing, so did she.
“I don’t know what I’m doing” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, and she almost instantly regretted it.
They just stared at her. There was just silence, until a voice said, “No one here does,” quite cheerfully.
“Cinder!” Maren said, shooting her cousin a look. “Forgive my cousin, Ruler.” The girl couldn’t be more than eight years old, and she didn’t stop beaming, even when Maren elbowed her side. Some people around her nodded.
“It’s okay,” Isla said, smiling at Cinder. She felt a little better ... and worse. It might have been a relief to get here and see that someone had everything taken care of. “How many Starlings are left on Star Isle?”
“There are a hundred or so more,” a man closer to her age said. He looked to be one of the oldest among them, with a strong jaw, messy silver hair, and white skin. “Give or take.”
She frowned. “Did they know about the meeting?”
The man smiled without humor. “They knew.” There was something in between his teeth that he was chewing, long and glimmering.
“Okay.” Isla wove her fingers together and drew in a breath, straightening her spine. She wouldn’t let opposition deter her; it was to be expected. First, then, the simple questions. “Where do you all live?” She waved a hand around the throne room. “Here? In the castle?”
There was a bubble of laughter somewhere in the crowd.
“Someof us do,” Maren said, looking pointedly at a group of Starlings Isla could now tell apart from the others. Their clothes were nicer. They wore fine strings of constellation-like diamonds around their necks and wrists.
The nobles. Of course. She recognized some of them from the Centennial. There were eight of them in the group, all with different features, hair textures, and skin tones. Unrelated, it seemed. The last of their lines?
She turned back to the group. “And the rest?”
The man with the reed between his teeth lifted a shoulder. “We can show you.”
Yes. That would be better. She still had so many questions. How did they source food? Did most of them know how to wield power?
Celeste—Aurora—had demonstrated her realm’s capability for making weapons during the Centennial. Did they have stores of them?
Before she ended the meeting, there was something she needed to say.
“Your ruler was my friend, I thought. I took her power to save this realm.” She lifted her palms. “I didn’t want to be your ruler. But I will be what you need me to be,” she said, surprising herself with her words. “Right now, things are difficult. Starlings died in the attack of the dreks. We are preparing for the possibility that it was one of potential future Nightshade attacks. Rebels were spotted just yesterday.” She looked around. “I am here for you now, and together we will navigate this new chapter. Your ruler’s death will not be a waste. Tell me what you need.”
There were whispers. No one spoke up, though, not for a minute.
Then, Maren said, “What we need most is for you to stay alive. You gave us a chance at a long life. We intend on using it.”
Isla asked Ella to stay behind and write a list of any immediate grievances and necessities. She figured the Starlings would be more comfortable telling someone familiar what they needed.
Maren and the man chewing the reed between his teeth—Leo—led her to where they lived. They were bickering in front of Isla in a familiar way.
Maren’s cousin fell back to walk by Isla’s side. She could feel Cinder’s eyes on her, and after a few minutes of clear staring, Isla finally turned to look.
“Yes?” she coaxed gently.
“What’s the king like?”
Isla blinked, startled. It wasn’t the question she’d been expecting. No one on the island knew that they were ... she didn’t really know what they were.
Of course, the little girl didn’t know that. As a ruler, Isla would obviously have been in contact with him. She was just curious.
“Brooding,” she replied, giving Cinder a wink. Maren must have heard, because she snorted in front of her, unexpectedly. Within a moment, she was back to her rigid posture.
The little girl’s eyebrows came together. “What’s brooding?” she asked. Before Isla could respond, she yelled to her cousin, “Maren, what’s brooding?”
