Ever since Thalia had moved in, Lily had begun dreaming of faraway gardens dripping with blossoms and scents she’d only read about—jasmine and saffron, enormous lotuses blooming in crystal pools in marble palaces. She dreamed of large halls and libraries where she’d learn the names of every plant, studying the way they fit into the world. She had no interest in a life like her mother’s, one where her power was gained in meanness and hidden measures. She wanted the world.
