“Your title is settled,” Oralie reminded her. “Your match status changes nothing. And if anyone questions that decision, you’ll have the full support of the Council.”

“You will,” Bronte agreed. “So I implore you, Miss Foster: Keep this team your focus. And the danger to the dwarves. And whatever else the Neverseen might be planning for Tam—as well as any further assignments we may ask you and your friends to take on. Anything beyond that will be a distraction at best and a danger at worst. Promise me you’ll put it out of your mind.”

She knew what he was trying to get her to commit to. And she couldn’t deny he’d raised some valid concerns.

But the best she was willing to give him was, “I won’t lose focus—and I won’t do anything that would endanger anybody.”

“I truly hope that’s the case,” he murmured.

“It is,” she promised.

Painful silence followed, until Oralie cleared her throat and reached for the circlet. “We shouldn’t keep the others waiting. They need their leader—assuming you’re still willing.”

Sophie stared at the glowing crown, wondering how long she’d actually get to keep it. She wasn’t convinced she could truly count on the Council to stand at her side if the public turned against her.

But… she had to agree that the Black Swan might go to great lengths to stop her from finding the information she needed.

The choice felt overwhelming—until she remembered the leap she’d just taken.

How freeing it had felt to surrender to the Sources’ power.

All she’d had to do was let go and rely on something bigger than herself to carry her through.

So she nodded, and Oralie set the circlet gently around her forehead.

The metal felt cool and heavy against her skin, but she could tell she’d get used to the weight of it. The pressure wasn’t more than she could handle.

“I’m sorry,” Oralie whispered before she stepped back.

“For what?” Sophie asked.

“Many things.” She adjusted a strand of Sophie’s hair. “But mostly for the fact that you’ve needed an ally so many times—and I haven’t been there. I promise that’s changing.”

“It is,” Bronte agreed. “You’re a Regent now—see for yourself.”

Oralie tilted the mirror, letting Sophie study her reflection. And she barely recognized the girl staring back at her.

The pink blush on her cheeks should’ve made her look softer. So should the wavy tendrils framing her face. But the bold lines highlighting her eyes made her look older instead.

Pretty—but fierce.

Different—and proud of it.

And that glowing crown…

“May I?” Oralie asked, pointing to Sophie’s Ruewen crest. When Sophie agreed, Oralie unfastened the clasp, and Sophie’s cape fell away from her shoulders, sliding to the floor as Oralie draped the much heavier silver cloak in its place, fastening it with her new golden Regent clasp and arranging the drape of the fabric so the howling wolf patch hung visibly over Sophie’s heart. Then she stepped back, giving Sophie another moment to study herself.

And this.

This was the kind of girl who commanded attention.

The kind of girl who didn’t care what anyone thought of her—because she knew exactly who she was.

The kind of girl who wouldn’t let anything matter. Not scandals or gossip or frightening responsibility.

This girl could handle it all—and would.

Sophie wasn’t sure if any of that could truly be said about her—yet.

But she wanted it to be.

Oralie nodded, her eyes shimmering as she made one final adjustment to Sophie’s cape. “Perfect,” she whispered. “You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “I think I am.”

* * *

Everyone had clearly been waiting on Sophie for a while when she returned with Bronte and Oralie to the dark, spotlighted room where she’d left Grady, Sandor, Della, Tiergan, and Vika earlier. But she also wasn’t the only one of her teammates who’d had a Councillor makeover.

Stina’s transformation was nearly as drastic as Sophie’s. No giant hair-sprayed bangs—sadly—but her new look might’ve been even better. Something about her peach cheeks and glossy lips and tamed curls had turned Stina into someone who actually looked… friendly.

Her smile even seemed sincere when she spotted Sophie—though the mascot the Council had chosen for the silhouette in Stina’s pink-bordered patch was a kraken. So clearly everyone still had realistic expectations.

Wylie’s dark hair was too closely cropped for there to be much change to his overall style. But the regal finery definitely gave him a much more confident air.

Sophie had a feeling that out of all of them, Wylie would have the most people bowing and curtsying—though she also noticed that one of his hands kept fidgeting with his new golden cloak pin. He probably missed his Endal crest as much as she missed her Ruewen one, which was now pinned to the chain of her home crystal and tucked under her cape.

His patch had an opalescent border that changed colors as he moved, and his mascot was a huge winged lizard—which she assumed was a dragon until she noticed the ridge of spikes down its back and the fact that it only had two legs. She didn’t know enough about wyverns to guess why the Council chose that particular creature to represent Wylie. But it sure made him look cool.

Dex’s mascot, on the other hand, was… probably not what he would’ve chosen. If it weren’t for the two tiny eyes stitched onto the round, fluffy silhouette in the center of his green-bordered patch, Sophie wouldn’t have even known it was a tomple. But the dust-eating poofball actually did seem like a good fit for Dex once she thought a little more about it. Tomples weren’t just adorable—they were useful. And even though they might look cuddly, they also had six spindly insect legs hidden under all their fur and could cause plenty of chaos.

And while Dex’s makeover wasn’t the hilarious Emo-tasticness that Sophie had been wishing for, his hair had been styled with a cute little swoop in the front that really suited his features, and his new silver cloak made his shoulders look extra broad. His glowing circlet also gave his periwinkle eyes a proud twinkle, and Sophie wished she could be there to see the joy on his parents’ faces when he walked through the door to Rimeshire in his new finery and explained his appointment. She’d known Dex was special from the minute she’d met him—and his family had always believed in him. But now everyone was going to see him as Lord Dex—a handsome, important Regent, and a member of Team Still-Needs-a-Better-Name.

And then there was Biana—proof that some people were born for moments like these. Now that she had a circlet, Sophie already couldn’t imagine Biana without it. And the look in Biana’s eyes seemed to say, I’ve just made my own Vacker legacy, and I can’t wait to show you what I’m going to do with it.

Her overall style was more muted than normal—neutral tones on her eyes, cheeks, and lips, with her hair pulled back into a simple knot at the base of her neck. And yet somehow that made her even more striking. The Council had chosen a kelpie for Biana’s mascot, and while Sophie—once again—didn’t know much about the creature, she did know that kelpies were beautiful and elusive and a tiny bit sparkly. So it seemed like an excellent decision.