“No. Why?”
“No reason,” she says quickly, and I drop it, because I don’t give a damn about the books in the library.
I wonder if Isla would. I wonder if she would like to see my library.
I’ve seen the dog-eared books she keeps in her bedroom. Perhaps she’d like more. She can have mine. She can have all of them.
Astria is still eyeing me curiously. I glare at her, and that seems to remind her of her station. She composes herself and walks back into the council meeting, where I’m expected.
I would rather be anywhere else.
I count down the minutes until I’ll see Isla again in the room we’ve set up in my castle, the one I have filled with illusions of the cave to practice on. We have a plan now, one we developed together.
I’ll get the dragon out of the cave. Isla will go through each of the enchanted obstacles, and get to the sword, before the creature returns.
Mastering each obstacle buys me time, but not much. After a few weeks, she’s mastered them completely. Of course. I lean against the wall, watching her complete it successfully for the tenth time.
She beams at me when she’s done, and it reaches my very soul. She slides down the wall to the floor, spent.
“I’m exhausted,” she says, and I want to tell herI know, I can feel it, but I love it when she talks to me, so I don’t.
“I can imagine.”
She looks at me and scrunches her nose. I’ve just come from the scar, and I’m covered in ash. “You look awful.”
“Thatis harder to imagine, but I will take your word for it.”
She rolls her eyes, and I fight a smile. “I’m ready. Why don’t we celebrate?”
Finally enacting our plan makes me feel like doing anything but celebrating, but her hope is so bubbling, so uplifting, that I can’t help but raise a brow at her, wanting to hear more.
“Tonight is the Launch of Orbs in the Skyling newland,” she says. “It’s to celebrate the new season of hot-air balloons being unveiled.”
I scowl. Skylings and their endless festivals. “They are always finding an excuse to celebrate. I bet they celebrate tying their own shoes.”
She frowns at me. “I’ve always wanted to ride in one,” she says, so earnestly, I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.
But the idea of being in the air, offlying, makes me suddenly uneasy. “Don’t you have anyone else to go with?”
I immediately regret my words. My tone. Of course she doesn’t have anyone else. Of course she doesn’t have friends, just like I don’t.
She gives me a withering look. “You know what? I’m sure I can find someone else to spend the evening with me.” Her implication is clear. She is not going to find afriend. She turns on her heel, but before she can take a step, I’m there, holding her wrist, holding her still.
No. I’ve already missed dancing with her. I will not sit around and let someone else take her on a balloon trip. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.
“Don’t even think about it.”
She turns to face me. My shadows are spilling everywhere, in panic that she might actually choose someone else, and she can see them. She lifts her chin in defiance, and I would expect nothing less. “Let go of me.”
“Never.”
And I mean it.
She’s breathing rapidly. Her eyes are still locked in a glare, but her voice is brittle. “Might I remind you that there is nothing between us. I do not belong to you. And you do not belong to me. If we decide to have ... fun ... then that is all it is. Momentary entertainment. Nothing more.”
Her words cut me like knives, but I choose to focus on the end goal, if only for my own benefit. My grin is wicked. “Oh, Hearteater.” I lean down so my lips are pressed against her ear. “If we do decide to truly have fun, there will be nothing momentary about it.”
No ... if she lets me have her, I’m going to have her completely.
