Or at least Broomstick went to find his own space. Fairy went straight to Daemon’s corner of the room and settled against his blue fur.

Sora’s chest knotted; she’d almost forgotten about the two of them holding hands before the Citadel battle. It had been difficult to see, since Sora had only just realized her feelings for Daemon then, too.

But the Society of Taigas forbade romantic relationships between geminas. So if Daemon was going to be with anyone other than Sora, she was glad it was Fairy. There was something lovely about your favorite people in the world coming together.

Right?

Annoyed at herself, Sora distracted her mind by clearing the debris on the floor to make some space—none of the chairs were sturdy enough to sit in—and cast a simple spell to light a fire next to her. They were indoors, but with the shattered glass ceiling, they might as well be outside.

Then Sora finally had time to think about everything that had happened.

Empress Aki was missing—possibly dead. Prince Gin had sworn loyalty to Zomuri, god of glory, and dedicated the kingdom to the pursuit of the Evermore, a mythological paradise obtained through war and bloodshed. And every single one of the Society’s leaders—no, all the taigas—were either dead or brainwashed and under the prince’s control.

Sora curled up next to her fire. What was she going to do? There really was no one left except her, Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick. Her earlier confidence faded.

Eventually, though, Sora’s fatigue caught up to her, and she dozed off.

A while later, she startled awake. The fire next to her had burned out. She scrambled to her feet.

“Don’t worry,” Broomstick said from nearby. “I was awake about the time you fell asleep. It’s been quiet.”

“That makes me nervous,” Sora said as she stretched.

“Makes me nervous, too.” Broomstick rubbed his hands over his head. It was normally shaved, but now platinum fuzz was beginning to show.

Sora’s own hair had seen better days as well. It was limp and greasy against her face, and the white-blond roots had started to grow out while the black dye faded on the rest. Her tunic and trousers were in similar shape, mud-spattered and wrinkled, no longer the formidable black uniform taigas were used to wearing. She was pretty sure she smelled a bit like old cheese, too. Ugh.

At least the nap had done her some good. She still didn’t know how the four of them could save a kingdom, but she wasn’t drowning in utter despair anymore. The wheels in her brain creaked, eager to turn and come up with a plan.

But there was also something else. Sora finally understood Empress Aki’s imperial crest, the one with the crowned tiger and the words “Dignity. Benevolence. Loyalty.”

It was about giving yourself to something bigger.