Page 122 of The Fifth Heir

I walked past her.

Nothing changed beneath my boots.

No new flowers opened.

I stepped from the path, approached the nearest tree, and placed one hand against its trunk.

Silver leaves rustled, but the crystal flowers remained turned toward Talia.

“The wing likes you better,” I said.

“That is not what this means.”

“It made you clothing, a bed, a torc, and now flowers.”

“It made all of us clothing and beds.”

“Mine didn’t glow when I touched it.”

“Perhaps because Storm light isn’t clear.”

“That explanation made less sense as you spoke.”

She ignored me and crouched beside the crystal blossoms. This time, she reached out.

Her fingers brushed one transparent petal.

Color raced through the entire bed.

Talia’s face changed.

The worry she carried from the study loosened. Wonder took its place, open enough that I could see the girl who must have spent years waiting for the first sign of her dragon.

I liked irritating her.

I liked this more.

Wonder softened every guarded line in her face. For once she was not measuring whether she had earned the right to stand among us. The hidden garden had opened for her, and she let herself be delighted by it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For ignoring the rules?”

“For bringing me here.”

“They’re often the same thing.”

She ran one finger along the edge of the petal. “Camilla thinks I should be careful what I tell all of you.”

“Reasonable.”

Her hand stopped. “You agree?”

“We’re rivals.”

“That’s what she said.”

“She was passed over for you.”