You're a queen and I'm a lion-heart

The tree laughs, and smiles. Kind of. If you turn your head and squint real hard you can see the mirth in those old, weathered lines, although to be completely fair you may well be projecting - it is, after all, a tree. Still, you find this encouraging. The forest giant does not chastise you for your curiosity, nor grow angry with your boisterous youth (though to be fair, few things really do, and those that have generally had a previous reason for being pissed off that had nothing to do with you and your actions). It offers an answer, even, though perhaps not a very satisfying one. If all trees can talk, why don't they talk more often? Your Ma once said trees were the oldest things alive in the world. They must have seen an awful lot. You cannot fathom living that long, without managing to find many, many things to say.

And how on earth are you supposed to name a tree, especially one you've only just met?

But before you can voice this new train of questions, the tree is speaking again, directly to Isopia (which, to be fair, it pretty much always was - you just hadn't really noticed before now). You turn affectionate eyes to your friend, only the slightest remnant of that unfortunate blush at the corner of your neck, ears raised eagerly to catch whatever the tree might have to say. You're ready for anything - praise, a story, a gift, a riddle. Whatever. You're ready.

Then the tree names her Czarina, and you are not ready for that.

It isn't that you're surprised she's the queen of the Falls now. You don't see her differently because of it - you've had, like, four Sultanas, and your Da has been Sultan for as long as you can remember. You grew up viewing royalty as normal people with more stress and obligations. No, it's not that she is Czarina that stops you short - it's that she, your best friend, didn't tell you about it. Why? Why would she keep that for you, when it was so important and exciting? Why did she feel like she had to hide it from you?

Come to think of it, there's a lot of things Isopia doesn't tell you. You don't know what they are (obviously), but you know they exist, and over time it's begun to bother you. Oh, you know Iso is secretive - she doesn't even tell most people her name. But that's not you. That's other people. You certainly tell her everything (though in her defense you tell everyone everything, idiot). Does she not trust you?

Are you even friends?

It's a stupid train of thought, and part of you knows that. If it hadn't been for all the things that happened to you recently you wouldn't even think it. But those things did happen, and now as you watch Isopia talk to the tree you're a little uncertain, a little insecure. What else is she not telling you? What happened when you went off hunting for your Ma? Did she get hurt? Or just make new friends? Bigger, stronger friends?

A boyfriend?

You're not what bothers you more: the idea that something bad happened to Isopia, the idea that you weren't there to support her through it, or the idea that maybe someone else did.

You bite your lip and contemplate, uncharacteristically introspective, as your best friend continues her conversation with a tree.