All this energy, this feeling, I know what’s going to happen when I place my hand against the table—
It turns gold. It ripples into glimmering, pure, unadulterated gold. Gasps echo through the room.
I’ve gilded, for the first time in centuries.
If the Wildling is unafraid to stand up in front of a room full of people who underestimate her, and take a risk, then who am I, as king, to hide?
The crowd rises to their feet. Some bow, some kneel and kiss the ground. They see it as a sign, I know. But it’s just a distraction. They don’t know that I’m dying.
I’m the winner of the demonstration. But I can’t help feeling like I’ve lost something.
Enya is waiting for me in my room when I return. An orange peel is discarded on my table. “You ... gilded,” she says.
“You really need to stop showing up like this.” I aim for jocular, but she’s not having it. Exhausted, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m dying,” I say flatly. “Might as well let all the secrets out.”
Her brows are high up her forehead. “Are you ... are you okay?”
No, I want to tell her. I feel like I’m losing my mind. First, it was Isla’s voice in my head, and now, every time I close my eyes, I see the smirk she made when she heard her throwing star hit my crown. She might as well have hit me right in the head, because I feel off-kilter. Different.
Sick.
“I’ll be fine.”
Enya doesn’t look convinced.
Zed walks in then. “Anything new?” I ask, grateful for a change of topic.
When his flying was ripped away because of the curses, he focused his energy on developing a network of spies across the island.
Including Moonlings.
Because of him, we know Moonling has been building ships for centuries. We know a sect of nobles has risen, and that Cleo’s control on them is fragile at best. Especially after her absence during the last Centennial.
“Moonling nobles are becoming bold. I fear they’re going to interfere with the Centennial.”
I frown. “How?”
“By taking matters into their own hands.”
“Wonderful.” It’s the last thing we need.
Nobles are typically invited to demonstrations. They were present at the duel and the banquet. They watched the Wildling’s star pierce my crown, just inches from my head.
It’s another reason I chose to gild, other than being caught up in the fire that is Isla Crown. I need to show strength. I’m king. My people are looking to me for assurances. We can’t afford an uprising right now. Especially from Moonling.
There’s only one thing to do. “I’m going to meet with Cleo.”
The Moonling ruler sweeps into the throne room, a train of sea-foam dragging behind her.
“To what do I owe the honor, King?” She always finds a way for her words to have bite.
Sometimes, I look at her and still see the instructor who banished me outdoors. I often think she still sees me as the Sunling teenager shaking in the snow.
That was centuries ago. So much has changed.
I get straight to the point. “Why didn’t you attend the last Centennial?”
Any hint of amusement drains from her face. Then, I see a flicker of something unexpected in her eyes. Pain. “I didn’t qualify,” she says.
