Elara padded into the kitchen barefoot, her braid half-loose and her thoughts still tangled from the night before.
Linny was already up, wings tucked tight, perched on the counter with a mug of something that smelled like cinnamon and starlight. She wore her usual morning robe—soft, iridescent, and aggressively unbothered.
“You look like you kissed a king and saw the future,” Linny said, sipping. “Which, rude, because I haven’t had breakfast gossip yet.”
Elara groaned and flopped into the chair across from her. “It’s been a lot.”
Linny raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘a lot.’”
Elara stared at the ceiling. “We walked through the outer districts. He kissed me. Twice. Then we stepped through mirrored arches that showed us what we’re afraid of and what we could become. And then we saw a vision
