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The sun hung high in the sky on the day of Isla’s coronation. Even with the few clouds encroaching upon its rays as they floated by, it stood out like a golden glittering witness looming over Lightlark in anticipation. Isla stood at the top of the stairs, just beyond the shadow of the doors, out of view of the thousands of people waiting below. It wouldn’t be long before she revealed herself to the public. It would mark not only her first appearance as the ruler of the Wildings since their isolation ended, but it would also be the people’s first look at the new reigning monarch of the Starlings.
The shock of this development still hadn’t worn off and as much as Isla had hoped her nerves would lessen by this day, the weight of what was to come only pressed further upon her. She took a shallow breath as dark despair brewed in her chest and clung tightly to her throat, keeping her from uttering a word. It threatened to suffocate Isla with every passing second she stood waiting on the steps instead of escaping. But there was no way she could turn around and walk away from it all, so Isla sought to distract herself. Right then, everything felt sharper to the Wildling as she closed her eyes and took in the world around her.
Bells rang at a distance as the crowning ceremony commenced. The air of the mainland was sharp with salt from the sea and Isla could almost hear the distant waves crashing against the shore. It beckoned to her with its soft roars like a siren awaiting in the darkest depths of the water, dangerous but with promises to take her elsewhere. The offer was tempting, and for a second, the young ruler let herself imagine the cool embrace of the waves against her skin, swallowing her body and letting her drift to nothingness. Then Isla turned away from it in her mind’s eye.
Closer now to civilization, the taste of burnt honey settled on her tongue from the fair that had cropped up at the Sunling castle's base. She imagined the colorful carts of the market filled with varieties of roasted seeds and sweets as they awaited the main event. Not even the bands dared play their instruments, though Isla still heard their merry songs in her head. Hadn’t she once wanted nothing more than to walk freely in a place like that? Immersing herself in the heart of a celebration as she danced with someone. Now it was here and she couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving her room, let alone the castle. Still, she danced alone to the song in her head before she could finally breathe again.
The bells came to an end too soon after. It was time.
Opening her eyes, Isla took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Strings of silver beads decorated her lengthy, black dress like spun starlight as Isla stepped into the light. Her heavy cape glistened under the sun with its shimmering sigils and constellations behind her as she walked down the stairs. With the hood down, Isla’s long dark hair braided with crystals was displayed alongside her heavily painted face. It was still a shock to wear a color she had only dared to use on her prohibited excursions beyond her own realm, especially in front of so many people. The thrill of it left her lightheaded, and she would’ve smiled triumphantly at going against her mentors’ rules in any other circumstance. But alongside that exhibitionistic pleasure from her excessive adornments, there was grief weighing down Isla’s steps.
It was the day of the Starling coronation and seemingly everyone on Lightlark was in attendance—all but one.
The ex-ruler of the Starlings had been dead for some time now. The revelation that the true caster of the curses had been posing for centuries as new Starling rulers had shaken everyone. If her absence wasn’t apparent enough from the need for this ceremony in the first place, it was clear from the way the people of Lightlark searched for any speck of her in Isla, whether out of curiosity or mistrust. She was the one who had put the whole island and all the realms in peril not long ago. And she was the one that Isla would have done anything to get back.
That secret bubbled in Isla alongside her heart's tarry mess of emotions. She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn’t want her back. After everything Isla had been through, she should want nothing to do with that woman. Aurora was nothing more than a cruel murderer who only cared about power. A tyrant who would kill her realm’s people and her loved ones to fuel her desire to rule all the realms. She was evil in its most ornate form, wicked and beautiful like a deadly snowstorm. Her death served not only as the end to the curses but as justice after her long reign of terror.
But she had still once been Celeste. There was no wickedness to her that Isla could detect. Her kindness was the first that Isla had ever known. When Isla had none, Celeste took the Wildling ruler in as a friend, and they became each other’s closest confidants. Their bond gave them the love of sisters and Isla learned what it meant to be cared for without pain or sorrow. It shouldn’t be surprising then that Isla had become infatuated with her. Was it so wrong to love that girl who had brightened her life’s enclosure like Polaris with her sweetness?
Looking back, it was clear that it had all been an act. It was only another role Aurora had played as she waited for her true plans to come to fruition. Celeste never existed; she was only a character made to advance a dirty scheme. That knowledge should have crushed any remnants of desire for the Starling into pieces the instant Isla found out who she was. But Isla only found herself more lost in yearning for her. And now, as Isla paraded herself as a Starling ruler with all the sparkling glamor, guilt twisted her heart further.
It felt wrong. It all felt so wrong. It’s as if she had taken her friend’s life, the sweet girl she knew before. The one who Isla knew was never real, but deep down, she missed her terribly. She had robbed her of her life, sheared her silver curls, and now draped it over herself like a trophy—a bloody trophy of her newfound power.Was that what these people thought? That she had killed Celeste for power, even if it had been for the greater good?
She looked to the crowd for answers, her stomach tense as she slowly descended the many steps. Their faces were a mosaic of expressions that quickly overwhelmed Isla: surprise, curiosity, hatred, disgust, and apprehension.
Isla took another step and her foot nearly missed the stairs entirely. She caught herself in time, but shame burned under her cakey face. She briefly considered gathering her gown in her hands and running back upstairs, locking herself in her room, and going anywhere else with her scepter of stars. Being anywhere other than here was as tempting as it was impossible. Isla was always trapped in a cage of obligations no matter where she ran.
Isla could feel the despair from before rising in her throat as her vision blurred. She wasn’t worthy of any of this. Who was she kidding? She didn’t deserve to rule anyone. She didn’t even know herself. Part of her past was missing and that person who had supposedly loved a Nightshade felt like a stranger. Nothing made sense to Isla, not even her own emotions. It was only a matter of time before all those foul and unwanted feelings that she kept buried inside the deepest depths of herself would overpower her weak heart and claw their way-
Breathe.
She felt it: a thread of heat steadying her. It was truly indescribable, yet Isla always tried to match the feeling with her favorite experiences. It was like a beam of sunshine upon her face, warm sand between her toes, honey in her stomach. It cut through her sorrow like an arrow and attached to her soul. She could sense the thread that tied them together even from feet away. It was something like love, something like power. Him.
Isla met Oro’s eyes. The king of Lightlark was her destination. At the bottom of the steps, he stood tall, proud, and golden, a human fragment of the sun that shone above the castle. He held a silver crown in his hands. He looked at her like it was just them—no crowd, crowns, or ceremony. The world around them did not exist as Oro waited for Isla to finish the final descent.
She took another step. Another. Until she was standing in front of the king.
Oro didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She could read a thousand words in his weary, amber eyes.
You can do this.
I’m here for you.
Everything will be alright.
Isla didn’t know how she would have survived without him. To think she had been avoiding Oro the past few days, knowing he would want her to begin training with her new powers, but he never forced her to act. She felt ashamed of herself. Her people needed her to be strong. Oro just wanted to keep her safe. How, then, could she not love him? The fact that he could access her abilities meant she must, in some shape or form. Desperately, Isla wanted to believe that Oro was the one she was meant to love, and through the love, she could finally find peace.
But truthfully, Isla didn’t even know what love was. In her twenty years of living, it seemed love had brought her nothing more than misery and heartbreak. She had loved Poppy and Terra. She had, at some point, loved Grim. She had loved Celeste. Was she cursed to love only the wicked? Or were the feelings from before that she held for all of them impure? Maybe love’s only use came from the power it gave others over one’s soul, to take someone’s essence deeply inside yourself and harness its potential.
When Isla killed Aurora, she had stolen all the Starling’s power. The action served as a loophole to fulfill the part of the prophecy that stated a ruler had to die to break the curses. A ruler’s power functioned as the life force of their people. All Starlings would have been killed along with Aurora if Isla hadn’t stolen her power. In a way, Aurora had become a part of Isla, something the young Wilding ruler would have to carry forever inside her—together for good. And as much as the thought sickened her, it gave her a morbid sense of happiness.
Isla cared deeply for Oro. But he wasn’t Celeste. He could never be her. No one could. And though Isla suspected he knew her feelings for him didn’t match the ones he held for her, she would never dare to tell him who truly possessed her heart. It would remain unspoken like the shadows that haunted their dreams, hiding in the darkness of their minds.
Oro raised the crown high above Isla, not wasting a moment, knowing she wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
“As king of Lightlark,” he announced, his voice carrying over the crowd with such authority. “I name you Isla Crown, the ruler of Starlings.”
When he placed the metal crown on her head, it felt like a cool kiss against her warm skin. For a moment, Isla could sense her. Then it was gone.