The words didn’t want to fit in Sophie’s brain—even though they matched things that Grady and Mr. Forkle had already told her.

After years of threats and Tribunals, did the Council actually… like her?

Or believe in her, at least?

And why did that feel like both a good thing and a bad thing?

“Okay, but what about the team name?” Dex asked. “You have to let us change it. Trust me, if you announce that you formed Team Prodigious, people are going to laugh.”

“They really will,” Biana agreed.

Councillor Emery’s sigh sounded like a muffled scream as it bounced around the room. “Fine. You may call yourselves whatever you’d like, on two conditions,” he told them, holding up a hand and counting off his fingers. “One: You must choose something respectable—something befitting the noble status the team will bear. And two: We must approve your selection.”

Dex’s dimples returned. “I can live with that.”

“Good. Does that mean we have a deal?” Emery’s gaze homed in on Sophie.

“Your choice, kiddo,” Grady whispered as he leaned in. “I’ll back you up, whatever you choose.”

She nodded, fighting the urge to tug on her eyelashes as she turned toward Dex, Biana, Wylie, and Stina. “If I’m the leader of this… group thing… I’m going to have to give you guys orders. Won’t that be weird?”

“Uh, I don’t know if you realize this,” Dex told her, “but… you already boss us around all the time.”

Biana grinned. “Exactly. Nothing new there!”

“As long as you let us have some input, we should be good,” Wylie added.

Stina bit her lip.

“You’d have to listen to me,” Sophie pressed, not letting her off the hook. “Even if you don’t like it.”

“Not if you’re wrong,” Stina countered.

“Actually, working as a team sometimes means going against your own judgment,” Councillor Emery told her. “You can voice your dissent—respectfully—but if you disagree with Sophie’s ultimate decision, you will still be expected to complete whatever orders she gives you.”

“Fine,” Stina said, tilting up her chin. “But if I turn out to be right, expect a lot of ‘I told you so’s.”

Sophie had zero doubt of that.

“We’re also going to have to spend a lot more time together,” Biana reminded Stina. “So… you’ll have to be nice to us.”

“And you’ll have to be nice to me,” Stina reminded her.

No one looked particularly happy about these revelations.

“We don’t expect you to become best friends,” Emery assured them. “But we do expect you to be respectful.”

Stina shrugged. “I guess I can live with that.”

“But… why?” Sophie had to ask. “You’ve never wanted to be involved with this kind of stuff before.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dex cut in. “She wants the title.”

“Like you don’t!” Stina snapped back.

Dex didn’t deny it. And the intensity in his eyes made Sophie realize how much this opportunity had to mean to him.

He’d spent his whole life being bullied because his parents were a bad match and his siblings were triplets. In fact, that was probably why Della had to be the one to bring him to Eternalia with Biana, since neither of his parents had access to the Seat of Eminence.

So to go from that to being one of the youngest Regents ever?

Appointed to the nobility before even completing the elite levels?

To be Lord Dex.

Even Biana looked pretty dazzled by the title, and she’d grown up with the elitest of the elite.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting recognition for your talents,” Della told all of them. “But make sure you aren’t forgetting the serious responsibilities you’ll be taking on if you agree to this—and I don’t mean the danger. Most of you are getting frighteningly used to that. But for this, you’ll not only be swearing an oath to put the needs of our world, and its people, ahead of your own lives, but you’ll also be vowing to give complete allegiance to the Council. That’s not something to take lightly.”

“It isn’t,” Councillor Emery agreed. “But it’s also nothing to fear. We’re on the same side.”

“Are we?” Tiergan asked, beating Sophie to the question. “Truly?”

“Yes,” all twelve Councillors said in unison.

“Unity is our best chance for survival,” Councillor Emery added. “Our foes are divided. Always changing out leaders and sniping at each other over the differences in their visions. So this”—he gestured between the twelve of them and the five soon-to-be teammates—“is how we stand strong against them. And to prove our commitment to that statement, we’re willing to make a new oath as well—an oath that will only be made to the five of you.”

Lots of eyebrows rose at that.

“What will the oath say?” Vika asked.

“That’s between us and Team Prodigious,” Councillor Emery said, glancing at Dex and reluctantly adding, “or Team Whatever-They-Decide-to-Call-Themselves. But it’s an oath to assure them that trust will not simply be demanded from them—it will be given. And we’re ready to make the vow now, if they’re ready to commit as well.”

Sophie, Dex, Biana, Wylie, and Stina shared another long look, and Sophie could see the resolve in their eyes.

But before she agreed, she had to address one final concern.

“It sounds like this is going to involve a lot of classified information,” she told the Council. “And I don’t see how that’s not going to damage my Cognate connection with Fitz.”

“As Councillor Alina already said,” Emery told her, “if excluding Fitz from the team becomes a problem, we’re willing to add another member. But we’d like to try it without him first.”

“And keep in mind,” Oralie added, finally turning her azure eyes toward Sophie, “true trust does not require absolute transparency. There is incredible power in accepting that there are some things you cannot know—and being willing to maintain your commitment to that person despite the secrets.”

“She has a point,” Tiergan agreed. “I’ve always considered that to be the ultimate level of Cognatedom.”

Sophie frowned. “But you said—”

“I know what I’ve said in our lessons,” Tiergan interrupted. “And uninhibited sharing is still the most vital way to build and maintain the connection between Cognates. But once the connection exists—and once you reach a level of maturity with your partner—you can work your way to a new sort of relationship. One that acknowledges that there are pieces of yourself that you may occasionally have to hold back, and that doing so changes absolutely nothing between the two of you. In fact, accepting the other person’s limitations actually enhances your bond. Put simply, it’s reaching a point where you both know beyond any shadow of doubt that you trust each other no matter what. I doubt you and Fitz have achieved that level of commitment yet, given how young you both are. But working toward it can be the new focus for our training.”