But Sophie couldn’t bring herself to care. “So I get to be unmatchable now—and Prentice had to spend years in Exile with a broken mind—because you wanted to have it all.”

Oralie shook her head. “Prentice spent years in Exile because of a dozen different misunderstandings. And you…”

Once again, Sophie waited for Oralie to finish that sentence.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until she finally had to ask, “That’s it?”

“I… don’t know what else you want me to say,” Oralie admitted.

Sophie wanted to tell her, How about “I’m sorry”? Or how about “I’ll fix this”? Or how about “I love—”

But she shut down those thoughts.

If Oralie couldn’t think to say them on her own, then they weren’t worth hearing from her anyway.

So all that was really left for Sophie to say was, “It’s late. Grady and Edaline are probably starting to worry.”

Oralie nodded, still staring at the stars. “They’re good parents, Sophie. Far better than I ever could’ve been.”

“They are,” Sophie agreed. “But you don’t get to take credit for them.”

“Don’t I?” Oralie hesitated a beat before she reminded Sophie, “Alden and Della tried to adopt you after Fitz brought you here. And I convinced Bronte to push the rest of the Council to deny their request and assign you to Grady and Edaline. I didn’t know they’d momentarily lose their way, but… I knew you needed each other.”

“We do,” Sophie told her. “But that still has nothing to do with you.”

“No, I suppose not,” Oralie murmured.

Seconds ticked by, until Sophie finally let go of Oralie’s wrist.

Her fingers had long since gone numb. And there was nothing else she needed to ask—no more lies or excuses she wanted to hear.

She stood and stumbled toward the door to find Sandor.

Oralie stayed where she was.

But she did call one question out to Sophie before she left.

Oralie could’ve said anything to her daughter in that moment. And all she wanted to know was, “Are you going to tell anybody?”

“Maybe,” Sophie told her, because she wanted to leave Oralie worrying and hurt.

But Oralie was an Empath.

Surely she heard the lie in the word.

FORTY-FOUR

SANDOR TOOK ONE LOOK AT Sophie’s expression as she emerged from Oralie’s crystal castle and asked, “Is there anything I need to know?”

And he was wise enough to let it go when Sophie told him, “It’s just been… a very long day,” as she dug out her home crystal.

It had been a long day.

In fact, Sophie couldn’t believe that only that morning, she’d leaped to her sister’s house to pick up Keefe’s E.L. Fudges before heading with him to the Shores of Solace to search Lord Cassius’s memories.

She wanted to flop into bed and sleep for a week.

Maybe a month.

Possibly a year.

But the pastures weren’t empty when Sophie and Sandor leaped back to Havenfield, and Sophie had to swallow back a sigh—which probably made her a horrible person, given that the tall, handsome figure pacing back and forth along the moonlit path was her boyfriend.

But there was only one reason Fitz would be there waiting for her that late.

And she really wasn’t sure she had the energy for that conversation.

She also didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

“I can insist that you need your rest,” Sandor leaned in and whispered, and Sophie couldn’t decide if the unsolicited offer proved that her bodyguard was far more astute than she’d realized, or if her lack of enthusiasm was that obvious.

In case it was the latter, she straightened up and forced her lips into what she hoped was a convincing smile as she told him, “Thanks, but I’ve got this. Maybe you and Grizel can give us a little space, though?”

“Only a little,” Sandor emphasized before making his way over to where Fitz’s bodyguard had just stepped out of the shadows.

He offered Grizel his arm, and Grizel took one quick glance at her charge before she hooked her elbow around his with a wide smile. And as the two goblins wandered arm in arm toward one of the nearby pastures, Sophie couldn’t help envying their ease.

They made the idea of a “happy couple” seem so much simpler than it was turning out to be.

Sophie hoped she’d have the same thing someday.

But for the moment, the best she could do was keep her smile in place as she made her way over to where Fitz stood waiting for her.

“Sorry—have you been here long?” she asked. “I was…”

She tried to think of something to say that might save her from having to use the name she definitely wasn’t ready to use yet.

Before she could, Fitz told her, “Grady told me you went to meet with Councillor Oralie. What did she say?”

“Say?” Sophie repeated, realizing how many different ways there were to answer that question.

“About Alvar,” he clarified, and both words dripped with so much venom, Sophie was surprised the grass didn’t wither around them.

“Oh…” She stalled, trying to remember Oralie’s exact words. “She said… she wasn’t sure what to do with that information.”

Fitz huffed out a bitter laugh, turning away and tearing a hand through his hair. “Am I seriously the only one who realizes how dangerous he is?”

“Was,” Sophie corrected gently. “You should’ve seen him, Fitz—”

“Yeah, I should’ve,” Fitz jumped in, without a drop of sadness or sympathy over his brother’s sickly condition. “But you and Keefe apparently decided not to include me after you took over the project that I was working on.”

Sophie closed her eyes, taking a second to remind herself that Fitz had every right to be upset.

But for some reason that felt hard to believe at the moment.

“You know what?” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Can we not do this right now? It’s late. It’s been a superlong day. You’re clearly upset—”

“OF COURSE I’M UPSET—YOU LET ALVAR GO!” Fitz shouted over her, and somewhere from the shadows Sandor cleared his throat.

Sophie shook her head in that general direction, trying to tell Sandor, I’m fine—please don’t interfere. And thankfully, no bodyguards came charging over.

“Okaaaaay,” Sophie said, giving up on the whole wait-for-tomorrow plan. She motioned for Fitz to follow her over to Calla’s Panakes tree, hoping the soft melodies would clear both of their heads. “I’m assuming Keefe told you why we chose to make a deal with your brother.”

“He did. And it might’ve made sense if you weren’t a Telepath—and yeah, I know, Alvar claimed he’s so great at hiding stuff. But come on, Sophie. That’s a load of garbage—and I would’ve told you that if I’d been there! And hey, we could’ve taken him on as Cognates! You really think we couldn’t have found that secret and dragged Alvar back to prison?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted, reaching up to rub her temples. “The thing is, Fitz, it’s not like I planned any of this. It all just sort of happened. I didn’t know we’d end up at Candleshade, and I definitely didn’t know your brother would be hiding out there, and… I just tried to make the best decision I could in the moment—and if you’d seen how awful Alvar looked…”