“Or not.” He grins again, completely at ease.
Fine.I dig my hand into my flower basket and thrust the request sheet at him.
“Here.”
He unfolds the paper carefully and takes a moment to read it. I use the time to study him—his narrow jaw and straight nose, his sun-kissed skin, the way his gold-flecked hazel eyes scan the page seriously, like I’ve given him a complicated textbook to study. I’ve never seen him this close up before, so it’s fascinating to put details to the name. It’s like finding a flower in real life that I’ve previously only seen illustrated in books. I’m aware that a lot of my Willoh Vane–related information comes from some incredibly biased sources: the queen who despises him; the rumors that blame him for the corruption of the forest; and Bash, who would be screaming in my ear to run if he were here. But he’s not here, and so far, Willoh hasn’t hurt me or even hinted that he’d hurt me—even if his humor is grating. I’m definitelynotenvious of how easily his sarcasm comes.
Willoh raises his eyes to mine and taps the page. “Huh.”
“Do you know where it is or not?”
He angles the page. “ ‘Farrow’s Flowers.’ Did you choose that name? Very creative.”
I say nothing.
“Fair enough. Well, this flower grows in a field not too far from here that you might be able to stay conscious for.”
“And?”
Willoh Vane throws me his most dashing smile. “You’ll be requiring my presence a little longer.” With a wink, he strides off the path. “Come along, Farrow.”
I watch the back of his dark red jacket slip between two trees and waver. Am I really going to follow Bash’s archenemy off the path into a dark, extremely difficult to find part of the forest for a flower?
No doubt about it.
Willoh doesn’t murder me. In fact, he keeps to his word and leads me through the trees, holding back branches with magical gusts of wind.He even checks regularly to see if I’m keeping up. A quarter of an hour or so later, I’m no longer able to contain my curiosity.
“How do you know where this flower is?” I ask. “I’d never heard of it before yesterday.”
Willoh glances back and I make sure I’m glaring his way. “I’m incredibly talented,” he says.
“At knowing where rare flowers are?”
“At everything,” he says, and shoots me another smirk. Then he relents, adding, “No, I just took a few botanical classes at the Library of Heris.”
“You studied at the Library?” I ask, surprised.
Card has talked about visiting the Library of Heris for years, but he’s never found the time to go, especially once he got engaged. It sits in its own triangle of territory right between the borders of Alrick, Dreah, and Lucan. No monarchy, no title of “kingdom”—a simply neutral ground for anyone who wishes to study. It houses the most detailed library of knowledge in the whole eight kingdoms of Calla. In fact, I bet Card would drag Bash there for their honeymoon if he could. I’ve never wanted to go myself. It’s where Mum says Morgana resides, posing as a respectable researcher, and bumping into the sorcerer who cursed me doesn’t sound like fun.
“I did,” Willoh says. Lighter than the breeze pushing the leaves aside, he continues, “And then I didn’t.”
Before I can consider what he means, we reach a vast wall of tangled thorns.
“It’s up there,” he says, pointing his chin at the thorny barrier.
“Up?What do you mean?”
“Up,” he says, and points a finger toward the sky. “As in not down.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Okay…” I say, unsure what he wants me to do. Does he want me to start climbing? I’m wearing a cotton dress and flat slip-on shoes, not to mention carrying a flower basket. Not exactly climbing gear.
Willoh angles his head to one side, smiling at my hesitation. “How do you feel about heights, Princess?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been extremely high up.”
He lifts his elbow as if he were offering his arm at a ball, and I blink.
