The fifth day.
No one said anything for a long moment. Even the snoring from the pavilion seemed to pause, as though Virve herself had heard.
"I never saw it," Ollie said, trying to make light of it. He picked up the spoon again, because his hands needed something to hold. "Not on myself. I was asleep the whole time. But Milo told me. And Old Nan. On the fifth day, my skin started to look like bark. Rough, and grey, and hard. And on the seventh day, there were little flowers growing in my hair."
He swallowed heavily as he remembered how stubborn he'd been at the end of his trial and how close he'd come to failing.
"I heard it was the same for Lady Heila," Ollie added. "Near enough."
"But Princess Jocelynn already has a tree growing from her," Adala said. Her voice was very quiet and very precise, the way it always was when she was frightened. "It started on the first night. Before the ritual was even finished."
