locked the door for good measure! How in the realm did you manage to
mess it up in your own room, little bird?”
Own room. Her room was not her own. It was an orb of glass, the
remnants of an ancient greenhouse. But the panes had been painted over.
The windows had been sealed. All except one door had been removed.
She was a little bird, just like Poppy and sometimes even Terra called
her.
A bird in a cage.
Isla shrugged. “Just some swordplay.” Poppy and Terra were her only
family—though they weren’t family at all. Everyone who shared blood with
her was long dead. Still, even they didn’t know about the starstick. If they
did, they would never let her use it. It was the only key out of the bird’s
cage. And Isla had been locked inside not just for her own safety—
But for everyone else’s.
Terra eyed her suspiciously before turning her focus to the wall. Dozens
of swords hung there in a shining row, a makeshift mirror. “Pity you can’t
bring any of them,” she said, a finger trailing across the wall of blades. She
had given Isla every single sword, presented from the castle’s ancient store.
Isla had earned them after each training achievement and mastery.
Poppy scoffed. “That’s one Centennial rule I agree with. We don’t need
her reaffirming all the other realms’ horrible views of us.”
Nerves began to swirl in Isla’s stomach, leaves dancing in a storm. She
forced a smile, knowing it would douse Poppy’s frustration—her guardian
always was telling her she didn’t smile enough. Isla hadn’t met many
people, but the ones she had were simple to figure out. She just needed to
uncover their motivations. Everyone wanted something. And some things
were easier to give. A smile for a charm teacher who had spent nearly two
decades teaching her student manners. A compliment for a woman who
prized beauty above all else. “Poppy, pretty as you are, all of their horrible
views are true. We are monsters.”
Poppy sighed as she slid the last pin into Isla’s hair. “Not you,” she said
meaningfully.
And though her guardian’s words were wrapped in love—good—they
made her stomach pool with dread.
“They’re ready,” Terra said. She took a few steps toward the vanity. Isla
watched her through the mirror, its edges spotted with age. “Are you?”
