“Do you think that other memory has something to do with stellarlune?” Sophie asked. “Or Elysian?”

“It could. But let’s not forget that it’s equally possible that I truly did have too much wine.”

Somehow Sophie doubted that. “And you have no idea what Elysian is—not even a guess?”

She wasn’t surprised when Oralie shook her head—but that didn’t make her any less ready to scream, Just once, couldn’t you guys call it something like “Our Massive Conspiracy to Control the World” and stop with all the fancy words that don’t mean anything?

“This is such a classic Kenric move!” Oralie huffed, glaring at his projection. “He always kept me out of anything he’d decided was ‘too intense.’ That’s why there’s only one Forgotten Secret in my cache.”

“Um… it sounds like the real reason for that might be because Kenric stole some of your other memories,” Sophie had to point out, which made her want to throw a full-fledged tantrum—complete with kicking and flailing.

Sometimes it felt like all she ever did was try to help fill in someone’s mental gaps after someone else messed with their memories. It was enough to make her start hating Telepaths.

Oralie turned away, stretching out her hand to catch several of the pinkish, purplish, bluish petals raining around them. “I know what you’re thinking, Sophie. But Kenric would never do anything malicious—especially to me. He and I…”

She didn’t finish the sentence—but she didn’t need to.

Kenric’s feelings for Oralie had been incredibly obvious, and Sophie had long suspected that the feelings had been mutual.

But she still had to wonder if there’d been a lot more to Kenric than she’d originally realized.

She squinted at his face, wishing she knew more about him.

He’d always been her favorite Councillor—but that had mostly been because he tended to take her side. And that didn’t necessarily mean she should’ve trusted him.

“Is that the end of the memory?” she asked.

“I can’t tell,” Oralie admitted.

The two projections were standing so still that the image almost looked frozen.

“Do you think—” Sophie started to ask, but Kenric’s voice cut her off.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Ora.” He dropped his gaze toward the ground. “I tried to avoid it. But I didn’t know who else to trust.”

Oralie’s projection reached for his hands. “If you really trust me, tell me what’s going on.”

For a second he looked tempted. But he shook his head. “I can’t. And I swear, I’m doing you a favor by keeping you in the dark. I’m counting down the days until I can have the Washers clean this mess out of my brain.”

“I can tell.” Oralie closed her eyes in the memory. “I feel so much fear and frustration. And… is that disgust?”

Kenric pulled his hands away from her. “Let’s just say that sometimes I’m not particularly proud to call myself a Councillor.”

“It’s that bad?” she whispered.

He looked pale when he nodded. “Some days I dream about walking away.”

“You mean resigning?” Oralie clarified.

He hesitated before stepping closer. “I’ve done my share for my people, Ora. I’d have zero problem letting someone else take over. But… I won’t go unless you resign with me.”

Everyone sucked in a breath: Sophie, Oralie, Oralie’s projection—even Kenric, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

But he didn’t take it back.

Instead, he reached for her face, gently cupping her cheek. “I may not be an Empath, but I know I’m not alone in this. Don’t tell me you’ve never wished—”

“Please don’t say it,” Oralie begged—but there was no energy behind her plea.

She even leaned into his hand.

“Ora,” Kenric breathed, sweeping back her hood, “you don’t have to keep fighting this. We wouldn’t be the first to walk away because of—”

Oralie shook her head. “Kenric, don’t.”

His jaw set and his eyes blazed with the same intensity as his voice when he told her, “Because of love, Ora. We both know that’s what this is, no matter how hard we pretend otherwise.”

The real Oralie covered her mouth, tears streaking down her face.

Her projection just stood there shaking.

Kenric reached for her other cheek. “Think of how much simpler everything would be if we stopped trying to deny how we feel,” he whispered. “How happy we could be. How free.” His gaze shifted to her mouth. “We could have our own place. Our own lives. Maybe someday even our own family.”

“Kenric…”

He leaned toward her, and her lips parted, like she might let him kiss her. But at the last second she turned her face away.

“I can’t do this.”

He turned her chin back toward him. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both.”

The word seemed to form a wall between them, growing thicker with every silent second that followed.

Kenric tilted his head. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No—”

“There is. I know you too well, Ora. In fact… I might even know what it is.”

“There’s nothing to know,” Oralie swore.

Kenric laughed sadly, stepping back. “Empaths are terrible liars.”

“Kenric—”

“That time when you were ill,” he interrupted. “When you wouldn’t let me take you to see any physicians. I stayed by your side the whole night, just to be safe. And there were a few moments when I couldn’t tell if you were asleep or awake. You’d toss and turn and whisper something over and over. Something that sounded… a lot like suldreen.”

Sophie felt her jaw fall open.

“Suldreen” was the proper term for a moonlark.

“That doesn’t mean—” Oralie’s projection tried, but Kenric cut her off.

“I saw how upset you were when Prentice was exiled. And I saw the look on your face when Alden brought us that strand of DNA. Everyone thought it was a hoax or a misunderstanding—but not you. Don’t try to deny it, Ora. I saw you flinch when he used the phrase ‘Project Moonlark.’ And you’ve tried harder than anyone to stop Alden’s search. You think I don’t know that you’re the one who convinced Bronte to place someone in Quinlin’s office to keep an eye on things?”

“So he knew,” Sophie said as both Oralies let out a strangled sob. “He knew you’re my…”

“He must have,” the real Oralie whispered. “But I had no idea. He never said…” She leaned closer to his projection, shouting, “Why didn’t you tell me when I’d remember it?”

Kenric, of course, didn’t answer.

And Sophie studied him, trying to decide if she wanted to laugh or cry or teleport somewhere far, far away.

Another person she’d trusted, who’d hidden things and lied to her every time she saw him.