Lachlan offers me a timid smile and then chases after his sister. I eye Braizen, who’s waiting for me to exit, and I slowly step onto a path. As my bare feet hit the warm dirt, I catch my breath and curl my toes in delight. There’s no place in Verdana where I can feel the dirt beneath my feet; our land is frozen and snowy year-round. I wiggle my toes, reveling in the soft soil between them, even if the soil is inside a castle. The aviary is so vibrant, loud, and colorful; it's as if it had been designed by the theatre troupe my father brings to the court to perform on my mother’s birthday. I’m content to stand here and feel no need to explore further. But the Prince grabs my hand and sprints down a trail.

“What are you doing?” I yell as we blaze past a small coppice of trees.

“I want to show you something!”

I try to take in everything as we run. Enormous plants, the sharp, heady scents from the multicolored flowers bloom everywhere in the warm air. The unfamiliar squawks and chirps from birds. When I glance up, I see a colossal bird hovering above us. It looks larger than some of the trees, and its beak dips at the front.

“What’s that?” I cry, pointing with my free hand. Prince Braizen briefly looks up.

“What?” he calls back.

“That!” I scream while still pointing. But when I look again, the bird is gone. It must have flown back to whatever massive nest it rests in.

I’m out of breath by the time we stop, but he’s almost buzzing with energy. Suddenly, he squats and waves his hand at me without looking back—a signal to do the same. I hunch down next to him.

I start to speak, but he presses a finger to his mouth, a gesture I know all too well from Nurse Lydia.

“We have to be quiet, or it won’t come.” His voice is barely a whisper.

What won’t come? But I wait and don’t speak. A strange feeling begins to brew inside me, one I don’t recognize. I like the way it feels to be next to the Prince. I like how he unlocked the door to bring us here, despite it being against the rules. And I really like his pretty eyes. I wonder if he thinks mine are pretty, too.

“Look,” he breathes, pointing. My eyes break free from his profile and follow his finger. An obsidian birdbath lined with jewels sits a few yards away. In and of itself, it’s glorious, but as we watch, a small bird lands on its rim to sip from its pool. It could easily fit in my hand. At first glance, its feathers appear to be a dull, grayish brown. Then it puffs its chest, and its feathers shimmer like gold in candlelight, sparkle like they’ve caught starlight.

I turn to find his cool blue eyes staring at me. He grins and explains in a low voice. “That’s the Little Sparrow. It’s the rarest bird in all the kingdoms. My father searched for years to find one.”