Every head turns toward the rumbling sound. Gazes widen when they land on her face, gawk when they glance below it. I can hardly help but do the same, though, for very different reasons. She stands there, draped in emerald green. It spills down her body in dozens of layers before billowing around her feet and draping behind her heels. The gown hugs her waist tightly, climbing up her body in a strapless corset. And there, on display above her beating heart, is the king’s carving. Paedyn’s spine is straight beneath the crushing weight of eyes against her chest. The mangled O sits crudely atop
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OMG I HAVE NEVER JAW DROPPED SO HARD BEFORE
