Page 217 of Grim and Oro
Oh, but you are. You are the most lethal of poisons. You are the type that I’ll drink without limit, and enjoy, andcrave, until it kills me.
I’m your enemy, remember?
I know. The fact that she clearly cares for Grim makes her my enemy too. I know, and I can’t stop looking at her, in that dress she’s torn apart. I can’t stop studying her every move. I can’t stop hoping that she’ll tell me even more truths, so that I can treasure them long after she’s gone from this island.
She twirls, dancing.
Clearly, she’s had some of the wine at the celebration. “I’ll take you to your room ... if you would like,” I offer.
I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to court a woman, andno, that’s not what I’m doing. Of course not. Still, I’ve never felt like this before: nervous, hesitant to say anything, lest I say the wrong thing.
She just shrugs. “Fine. I was going there ... but the hallways changed.”
Yes. She’s definitely had some of the wine. “Did you drink the haze?”
She nods happily, and then she starts singing again, right in the middle of her song, as if she hadn’t ever taken a break. She sings louder and turns in a circle, and then she’s exclaiming that she’s never felt this good in her life, and she doesn’t know why Poppy and Terra didn’t let her drink before.
I wonder about those people. “Your guardians?”
She nods. “Did you have guardians?”
Her question brings me back centuries. Pain breaks through, as I remember the Starling I found on the floor. “No, I didn’t. I was never supposed to be ruler, or king. My brother was the one with guardians.” I don’t tell her about Agnes. But I want to.
“So, what did you think you would be?”
Nothing. I thought I would be nothing.
Until I found myself, and my strength, in my training across the isles. Over time, I proved myself enough to unite the forces. To train together. To prepare for a future my father deemed impossible: war. When Nightshade attacked, I was grateful for all the time I had spent uniting our forces.
“I led our armies,” I answer, simply.
She freezes. She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me incredulously. “Youcommanded the Lightlark armies?”
Normally I might be offended by her disbelief. But I simply nod.
She continues. “That’s why you hate him, isn’t it?”
Him. Of course, I know who she means. I’m not going to stand here and tell her every unforgivable thing Grimshaw Malvere has done. I’m not going to poison her to him—even if I want to.
“We both lost many warriors,” I say simply. “And I didn’t agree with the way he fought.”
We’re at her door now. She’s still swaying slightly, and my brows pinch together. “Are you going to be all right?” The guards are here, they’ve followed. They will make sure no one gets close to her door. I could leave now.
“I’ll be fine.”
Of course she will. I ignore the strange bite of disappointment, nod, and turn to go. Her hand catches my wrist, and it’s as if my blood is being called to hers, as if something has jolted between us.
She looks as if she didn’t feel anything. “Wait. I still have so many questions. Will you come in?”
No. Don’t invite me in, I want to tell her, knowing how I’m feeling right now. Knowing that going into her bedroom right now,being invited inside, is only going to make this fixation worse.
She seems to sense my hesitation, because she says, “I’ll make tea.”
Tea. That’s what has me stepping through her threshold. Tea is innocent. We both like tea. It’s on the increasingly growing list of things we have in common. I warm the water. She unearths some strange blend of spices, with a ridiculous name, that actually tastes incredible.
Then, she leans forward, drawing so close to my face that I can see the small specks in her eyes. Gold. She has flecks of gold in her eyes.
I see flashes of that dream. Of her lips, against mine. Of her breath against my ear—
