The palm-size circle had a bright red border and the same symbol from her circlet and cloak clasps swirling in the background—though the three lines alternated colors this time, one gold, one silver, and one white. But the main focus was the detailed silhouette stitched on top of everything—a howling dire wolf.

“We’ve assigned each of you an individual mascot,” Oralie explained, “to represent the role you’ll play for your team.”

“And I’m… a dire wolf?” Sophie asked. “Shouldn’t mine be… you know…?”

“A moonlark?” Bronte guessed.

“I mean, it seems logical, right?” She was surprised she even had to suggest it.

Bronte shook his head. “No offense to the Black Swan. The name they chose for you is not without its significance. But we think it’s high time for people to see you as more than an experiment. More than a survivor. More than a girl left to fend for herself in a world where she didn’t truly belong. You’re a leader now, Miss Foster. Not a defenseless little bird. And you’re part of a team, not struggling alone. So we wanted you to show our world—and your enemies—that you rule your pack, and have the claws and teeth to take anyone on.”

Sophie studied the wolf silhouette again, hoping it hid the tears she could feel forming.

She’d never thought she needed the Council’s support—but having it meant everything.

Even if the pressure of their expectations was also pretty nauseating.

“The change has already happened inside you,” Oralie assured her, tucking Sophie’s hair behind her ears. “I can feel it. And I can see it. Now we’re just helping you dress the part.”

“Exactly,” Bronte said, passing Oralie the glowing lumenite circlet. “Trust us.”

“I do,” Sophie told them, trying to hold still as Oralie went to place it over her head. But at the last second, she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “But you need to know I’m unmatchable.”

Oralie froze.

Bronte sighed. “I’m assuming that has to do with the lack of information about your genetic parents.”

Sophie nodded, wondering if Bronte was yet another person who’d been expecting this to happen.

Oralie didn’t seem surprised either. More devastated.

“I’m trying to find out who they are,” Sophie assured them, in case they were about to take her title away.

“You shouldn’t do that!” Bronte warned.

“Why not?” Sophie asked, surprised by the snap in his tone.

“Because no good can come from it.” Bronte kicked aside several pillows as he turned to pace the length of the room. “Remember, the Black Swan has kept their identities hidden by choice. I’m sure that means they have good reason for the secrecy—and I think this is an instance when we should trust their judgment. Uncovering the secret will surely cause a tremendous amount of turmoil for the donors—and it’s possible that their turmoil could ripple through our entire world. Their identity could also renew the scandal surrounding your unconventional past, right when public opinion has finally shifted in your favor.”

“And what about the scandal of being unmatchable?” Sophie countered. “How do you think people are going to feel when they see me parading around with your fancy Regent symbols on my special cloak—and my crown—knowing I’m even worse than a bad match?”

“You’re not worse,” Bronte insisted. “And if you remain single—”

“Don’t!” Oralie slammed the circlet down on the dressing table hard enough to make Bronte pause midstride. “You can’t expect Sophie to consider the kind of commitment you’re about to suggest. Not at her age. I’d had time to review all of my match lists—and I was still far too young. I had no inkling of the sacrifice I was making.”

Bronte cleared his throat. “I realize that you may have certain regrets,” he told Oralie, “but can you honestly tell me that given the chance to do it all again, you’d do anything differently?”

Oralie tilted her head to stare at the lanterns twinkling above them. “No. But my decision was my choice. What you’re suggesting for Sophie wouldn’t necessarily be.”

“Not everything can be as fair as we want,” Bronte argued. “Nor as ideal. But I never said any decisions needed to be made today. I simply felt it was important to point out that all of this is technically an avoidable scandal.”

“It’s also avoidable if I can provide the matchmakers with my genetic history,” Sophie noted.

“But that would be a very bad idea.” Bronte resumed his pacing. “In my experience, when the Black Swan wants something to stay hidden, they have a way of making that happen—at any cost.”

“I thought the Council trusted the Black Swan,” Sophie reminded him.

“We do,” Oralie said quietly.

“But trust doesn’t cover everything,” Bronte noted. “And in this case, what it means is that we believe the Black Swan to generally be working for the good of our world. That doesn’t mean we don’t still expect them to bend or break any rules they deem necessary in order to attain their goals. And they’ve already told you that they cannot and will not reveal your parentage, yes?”

Sophie reluctantly nodded.

“I’m also assuming they’ve asked you not to investigate, right?” When she agreed again, he told her, “Well, then it’s safe to conclude that they’ll do whatever it takes to ensure you can’t defy their decision. And think of what they allowed to happen to Prentice in order to keep your location secret. Do you want to risk that your quest to find your genetic family could lead to another similar tragedy?”

Sophie’s heart stalled. “The Black Swan wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t they?” he interrupted. “They know this secret affects their moonlark in many unfortunate ways. And still they’ve kept it hidden. Do you honestly not see that as proof that nothing will stop them from keeping this truth safe? And if you agree with my assessment—as you should—then are you truly willing to say, ‘Hang the consequences,’ and embark on such a quest solely for your own personal benefit?”

Sophie’s mouth was so dry that her tongue felt superglued to the roof of her mouth. So the words came out slightly garbled as she said, “I have no idea. But if I don’t, and people find out I’m unmatchable, how can I be a Regent—”

“Because we say so,” Oralie interrupted, taking Sophie’s hands. “This was a Council decision. All that matters to us is that your team needs you—and we need you.”

Sophie closed her eyes, letting the wonderful words float around her brain before she forced herself to remind them, “But you didn’t know about my match status—”

“Perhaps we didn’t know this specific development,” Bronte cut in quietly. “But all of us have long assumed that there are sure to be many surprises ahead with you, Miss Foster. Not all of them ideal. And still, none of us hesitated to make our oath to you, did we?”

“No,” Sophie mumbled, wondering how this could possibly be the same Bronte who’d been so against her in the beginning.