This was bad. Dangerous.
She was supposed to be matched with Celeste. They had a plan. This was yet another factor that complicated everything.
Why in the realm would the king want to be matched with her?
The last thing Isla wanted was to be forced to spend time with the Lightlark ruler. Not just because he was insufferable, but also because doing so would surely mean having to use her powers in search of a way to break the curses, using the prophecy.
Powers she didn’t have.
Would he be able to sense her powerlessness if they spent more time together? Grim hadn’t. But Oro was the king of Lightlark—his abilities were endless.
She had to find a way out of it . . . an excuse. She waited for Celeste to knock on her door, to brainstorm.
Celeste. Her friend had been paired with the worse possible ruler. Cleo.
She felt a pang of dread.
Everything had gone so wrong. Because of the king.
Hours later, there was a knock on her door. She had done everything she could to distract herself, waiting for the Starling to finally arrive. Isla had taken a bath, as if she could wash the day off. She had put on her comfiest clothes, the pieces she had sneaked into her luggage before leaving the Wildling realm—an oversize long-sleeved shirt Poppy had let her wear at night. Tight pants that were just as soft as the shirt.
Celeste, finally, she thought as she threw the door open. But it wasn’t Celeste.
Oro’s eyebrows were slightly raised as he took her in. She supposed she looked like a completely different person—makeup off, hair in a bun atop her head, shirt five sizes too large. She might have been worried that the king had seen her like this, without her Wildling temptress mask on, if she wasn’t so annoyed.
She crossed her arms across her chest. “Do you normally call upon rulers at midnight?”
He matched her frosty expression before looking over her shoulder, into her room. “May I enter?”
Her chest tightened. There were many things in her room that would give her and her secrets away. Her starstick. Her reliance on elixirs. But she couldn’t say no. It would only make him suspicious. “I suppose.”
She should have anticipated he would seek her out. He had decided to pair up with her—for whatever reason. Isla had excused herself as soon as possible, fleeing to her room, fearing everyone in the hall would be able to hear the unsteady beating of her anxious heart if she stayed too long.
He strode past her and frowned at the state of her room.
It wasn’t even that messy. There were a few dresses she hadn’t managed to put away strewn across the furniture, and teacups littered her nightstand, but, what, was the king’s room perfect?
She closed the door and didn’t stray far from it. “Yes?” she said flatly.
Oro carefully picked up one of her dresses, placed it on the bed, and took a seat on the chair that it had previously occupied, leaning back as if it was his own room. And Isla supposed it was.
His fingers trailed the curling sides of the seat as he said, “I would like to make a deal.”
For a moment, Isla considered grabbing her starstick from its hidden place in the wardrobe and portaling somewhere far away. It would be so easy . . .
Somehow, she forced herself to stand very tall and say, “Oh? What is it you propose?”
They were already paired. She didn’t understand why he wanted to make a deal on top of that but decided it would be best to allow him to speak. Perhaps she would finally get some answers.
He laced his long fingers together. “I have a theory about the curses, one I’ve been working through the last half century. And I believe you are able to help me.” She wanted to laugh and say if it was power he needed, he should ask someone else. She wanted to make any excuse she could. “You see, I require a knowledge of nature. One you clearly possess.”
So that was why he had saved her that first day. Why he had paired them together. He did need something . . . “What is the deal?”
“You are, of course, aware of the second-to-last line of the oracle’s riddle. One of our realms must fall for the curses to be broken.” Isla nodded. “As we are a pair, I cannot harm you. And, if you help me find what I seek, I will do my best to protect you from the other rulers as well.”
Protect.
She hated that word, though she clearly needed to be protected. She wished she didn’t.
Also—his best?
She gave him a withering look. Her unfiltered thoughts came out. Why bother playing the game she did with everyone else, acting a part, telling them only what they wanted to hear? Every time she looked at him, all she heard was the first step of her guardians’ plan in her head. To seduce him. To steal his powers.
Did they think so little of her?
Did the king think so little of her that he believed she needed his protection?
“You want to protect me? I thought you were dying.”
Oro’s eyes turned hot as fire. She imagined if he didn’t need her, or wasn’t forced to adhere to the rules, he would have lit her aflame with a single look.
“Is it a deal or not, Wildling?” He spit out the last word like it burned his tongue.
Isla smirked. “I disgust you, don’t I?” she said. She took one step toward him. “Is it the heart eating?” she asked, pleasure blooming as his frown deepened. “Or the dresses?” She feigned compassion. “What a shame the only person who can help you with your supposed theory repulses you so much.”
Oro stood.
He didn’t answer her question, but she could see it clear on his face. He
was disgusted by her and her kind.
“You are wasting my time,” he said through his teeth. “Do we have a deal, or not?”
For a moment, she considered.
She had no idea what the king’s theory was and didn’t care. What she did care about was that this proposed alliance offered her something she needed.
The closest chance she might have at getting into the Sun Isle library.
Isla didn’t have to go along with his plan. He just needed to believe she would.
Still—
In case Oro’s strategy did end up having merit, it could make a good backup plan. So, she needed to assure Celeste’s safety as well. But if she asked outright, Oro would suspect their alliance . . .
“It’s only a deal if I am able to decide a second realm that will remain safe.”
His frown managed to deepen even further. “Is there one you have in mind?” he demanded.
She shrugged noncommittally. “If I’m helping you break the curses, I should at least get to determine one other realm that deserves to be saved.” Her smile was feline. “And, since you require me, it seems there might be room for negotiation.”
Oro’s jaw tensed. It seemed he hadn’t expected any opposition. Chimes sounded, almost making Isla jump, marking the hour. Officially midnight. When they were over, Oro said, “Fine. So, it’s a deal?”
It felt good, deciding on her own. Forming a backup plan. Her entire life, she had listened to others. Her guardians. Celeste. Even though they only had her best interests in mind, it felt freeing, making this choice.
“It’s a deal,” she said firmly, wondering what in the realms she was getting herself into.
“Good.”
She walked toward her door, eager to have this meeting be over. “When do we start?”
The king did not follow her the way she planned. “Now.”
“Now?” Her voice was too panicked. But she needed time to figure out an excuse for her powerlessness . . . to prepare . . .
“Is that a problem?” he asked, gaze narrowing.
She glared at him. “Well, I did have plans to sleep.” Speaking of sleep
. . . this close, she could see the king had purple crescents below his eyes. Was the king sleeping at all? Oro didn’t budge, or react to her words, so she said, “Fine. Just let me get dressed.” She reached for one of her new dresses. “If you could step outside—”
Oro frowned at the gown she had chosen, as bright and revealing as the rest. “You can’t wear that.”
Back when she was still preparing for the Centennial, Isla had dreaded meeting the king. She had wondered if she might cower in his presence, or if he would sense her lack of powers and kill her as soon as he could. Now, looking up at Oro and his disapproving frown, Isla realized that her main problem would be controlling her urge to throttle him.
“Are you telling me how to dress now?” she demanded.
Oro blinked slowly, annoyed. “During our excursions together, no one can know you are ruler of Wildling.”
She stiffened. “Why?”
“Lightlark doesn’t like you.”
No kidding. Still, Isla scowled. “Excuse me?”
“Some ancient creatures on the island, the ones that still live in the deepest pockets of Lightlark, believe Wildlings abandoned them five hundred years ago. If they sense you, or hear rumors that you are near their lands, they will attack. Which would only end in spilled blood and too much attention to our efforts.”
She knew Wildlings weren’t liked but had never heard this reason. Abandoned? The bloodthirsty Wildlings had practically fled the island. Or, at least, that was what she had always been taught. “So . . . you want me to dress differently?”
“Not just that.” He took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “I can’t sense your abilities, Wildling.”
Her stomach collapsed. She made to step back—
“I can tell that you’re cloaking them,” he continued, without missing a beat. “I just ask that you keep doing that when we’re on the isles.”
Isla blinked. Again. “So . . . you don’t want me using my powers.” She felt like falling over. This was a good thing. A great thing.
Lucky—she had gotten lucky. Isla was both grateful and anxious. Luck was dangerous.
Because just like any rare elixir, it was bound to run out.
He nodded. “If you do, those ancient creatures will be immediately drawn to you.”
Isla wondered about these mysterious ancient creatures. And why even the king of Lightlark wanted to avoid them. She pretended to look pained,
inconvenienced. Angry, even. “Fine.”
“Good.” He looked down at her clothes and said, “That will do.” “These are pajamas . . .”
He just blinked at her.
Isla wanted their time together to be over as soon as possible, so she shrugged, quickly braided her hair, and left without her crown.
