And this—this version of her I’m seeing right now?

It’s bullshit.

I can’t accept it because I know it’s not real. Because I know it means something is wrong.

Suddenly, a swell of angry voices breaks through my reverie.

I look up just in time to realize Lena has said something nasty. Valentina, one of the twins, turns on her, and I force myself to pay closer attention as she says—

“I should’ve cut off your ears when I had the chance.”

My eyebrows shoot up my forehead.

I step forward, confused, and glance around the room for a clue, but a strange, uncomfortable tension has reduced everyone to silence.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “Am I missing something?”

More silence.

It’s Lena who finally volunteers an explanation, but I already know better than to trust her when she says, “Valentina likes to play pretend.”

Nicolás, the other twin, rounds on her in an instant, furiously firing back in Spanish. Valentina pats her brother on the shoulder. “No,” she says, “you know what? It’s okay. Let her talk. Lena thinks I like to pretend”—she says a word in Spanish—“I won’t be pretending”—more words in Spanish.

Stephan’s mouth drops open in what appears to be shock, but Lena just rolls her eyes, so I have no idea what just happened.

I frown. It’s a frustrating conversation to follow.

But when I glance over at Juliette I realize, with welcome relief, that I’m not the only one feeling this way; J doesn’t understand what they’re talking about, either. Neither does Castle. And just as I think that Warner must be confused, too, he starts talking to Valentina in fluent Spanish.

Suddenly my head is spinning.

“Damn, bro,” I say. “You speak Spanish, too, huh? I’m going to have to get used to this.”

“We all speak many languages,” Nicolás says to me. He still seems a little irritated, but I’m grateful for the explanation. “We have to be able to communi—”

Juliette cuts him off angrily. “Listen, guys, I don’t care about your personal dramas. I have a massive headache and a million things to do today, and I’d like to get started.”

Ha.

Of course. Juliette has a hangover.

I bet she’s never had a hangover. And if this weren’t, like, a life or death situation, I’d think it was kind of hilarious.

Nicolás says something softly in response to her, and then drops his head in a mini-bow.

I cross my arms. I don’t trust him.

“What?” Juliette stares at him, confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

Nicolás smiles at her. He says something else in Spanish—and by now it’s obvious he’s screwing with her—and I nearly kick the little shit in the face.

Warner gets to him before I do. He says something to Nicolás, something else I don’t understand, but somehow this makes Juliette angrier.

What a weird morning.

I hear Nicolás say, “We are pleased to meet you,” in English, and I’m officially so goddamn confused I think I should just see myself out.

Juliette says, “I take it you’ll all be attending the symposium today?”

Another douche-bow from Nicolás. More words in Spanish.

“That’s a yes,” Warner translates.

That seems to piss her off. She spins around, turns to face him. “What other languages do you speak?” she says, her eyes flashing, and Warner goes so suddenly still my heart hurts for him.

This moment is too real.

Warner and Juliette are both so full of shit today. They’re pretending to be so hard, so cool and collected, and then—this. Juliette says one thing to him and Warner turns into an idiot. He’s staring at her, too dumb to speak, and she’s flushed, looking all hot and bothered just because he’s looking at her.

Jesus.

I wonder if Warner has any idea what he looks like right now, staring at Juliette like all the words were shoved right out of his head, and then, with a jolt, I wonder if that’s what I looked like when I was talking to Nazeera.

An involuntary shudder runs through me.

Finally, Stephan puts Warner out of his misery. He clears his throat and says, “We were taught many languages from a very young age. It was critical that the commanders and their families all knew how to communicate with one another.”

Juliette looks down, collects herself. When she turns to Stephan, her face has lost most of its flush, but she still looks a little blotchy.

“I thought The Reestablishment wanted to get rid of all the languages,” Juliette says. “I thought you were working toward a single, universal language—”

“Sí, Madam Supreme,” Valentina says. (I know the word sí. It means yes. I’m not a complete idiot.) “That’s true,” she says. “But first we had to be able to speak with each other, no?”

And then—

I don’t know why, but something about Valentina’s response breaks something open in Juliette. She looks almost like herself again. Her face loses its tension. Her eyes are wide—almost sad.

“Where are you from?” she says quietly, and her voice is so unguarded it gives me hope—hope that the real J is still in there, somewhere. “Before the world was remapped,” she says, “what were the names of your countries?”

“We were born in Argentina,” the twins say.

“My family is from Kenya,” Stephan says.

“And you’ve visited each other?” Juliette turns, scans their faces. “You travel to each other’s continents?”

They nod.

“Wow,” she says. “That must be incredible.”

“You must come visit us, too, Madam Supreme,” Stephan says, smiling. “We’d love to have you stay with us. After all,” he says, “you are one of us now.”

And just like that, Juliette’s smile is gone.

Her face closes off. Shutters shut. She reverts back to the cold shell of a person she was when she walked in, and her voice is severe when she says, “Warner, Castle, Kenji?”

I clear my throat. “Yeah?”

I hear Castle say, “Yes, Ms. Ferrars?”

I glance over at Warner, but he doesn’t say a word. He only stares at her.

“If we’re done here, I’d like to speak with the three of you alone, please.”

I look from Warner to Castle, waiting for someone to say something, but no one does.

“Uh, yeah,” I say quickly. “No, uh, no problem.” I shoot Castle a look, like, What the hell? And he jumps in with a “Certainly.”

Warner is still staring at her. He says nothing.

I almost slap him.

Juliette seems to agree with my line of thinking, because she stalks off, looking extremely pissed off as she goes, and I start following her out the door when I feel a hand on my shoulder. A heavy hand.

I look up directly into Warner’s eyes, and, I’m not going to lie—it’s a disorienting experience. That dude has some wild eyes. Pale, ice green. It’s a little unnerving.

“Give me a minute with her,” he says.

I nod. Take a step back. “Yeah, whatever you need.”