Everything reeked of stale liquor, pine needles, and mistakes.
Not daring to open her eyes, she groaned and brushed bits of nature from her hair, wishing some of the other remnants from last night could be as easily swept away. During the party to celebrate the end of Caraval, she had danced until her slippers were stained with grass and sipped flutes of bubbly wine until she’d practically floated.īut now she was facedown on the cold, hard forest floor. Back when Legend’s private isle had radiated amber-tipped light, which breathed enchantment and wonder, along with a hint of deception. She was on the damp ground, feeling far, far away from the bright, sparkly thing she’d been the evening before.
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