Crier could feel Ayla looking at her, but she—couldn’t look back. Not yet. Not while her heart was still singing like this, not while her hands were shaking like this.

I trust her with my life.

Crier and Ayla followed the girl through the blanket-covered doorway into the room beyond. It was small, barren, a sleeping mat and wool blanket in one corner and nothing else. Once inside, the girl turned to them. “It’s not much,” she said, gesturing at the blanket, “but it’s as private as it gets around here.”

“Privacy for what?” Ayla demanded. “What do you want from us?”

“Answers. But first . . .” The girl’s face broke into a huge lopsided grin, and she clapped Crier on the shoulder. “It’s good to finally meet you, Lady Crier!”

Crier took a step back. “I’m—I’m not—”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” said the girl, still grinning. It transformed her entire face, cheeks dimpled, eyes lighting up. “I must have seen you a dozen times over the years. Only ever from afar, and you never saw me. But I saw you!”

“Who . . . are you?” Crier asked. “How do you know who I am?”

“I’m Dinara,” the girl said proudly. “Daughter of Red Hand Reyka. If I’m not mistaken, you knew my mother well.”

Daughter of—

“That’s impossible,” said Crier. “Reyka never commissioned a child, I would have known—and—you’re human.”

Dinara snorted. “What can I say? My mother was an Automa, my ma’s a human, they fell in love, they wanted a child. My ma had a good friend, a human man, and he agreed to help out.” She winked. “So that’s how I happened. But my mother had to keep Ma and me a secret—I’m sure you can understand why. I grew up in a village to the south, but I visited the sovereign’s palace a few times, disguised as one of my mother’s servants. That’s when I saw you, Lady Crier.”

Crier tried to think of a response, but her mind was caught on: My mother was an Automa. My ma’s a human. They fell in love. Was it true? Did Dinara have any reason to lie? How often did this happen? Crier knew Queen Junn had some sort of . . . relationship with her human adviser, but Crier had assumed it was purely physical, because—because how could it be anything else?

Am I not the only one?

The thought was a revelation. Sunlight brimming over the mountaintops, spilling into the valleys and villages below. It’s not just me. If that were true, it changed everything. If it wasn’t just Crier, if she wasn’t an anomaly, the only one who had ever felt like this, then—maybe this feeling in her chest wasn’t wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a Flaw.

After all, who had condemned her for this? Who told her it was wrong? Her father. Kinok. Who would hate her for this? The members of the Red Council, the elite, who didn’t care if humans lived or died. Crier didn’t believe anything any of them said. They didn’t respect her, and she didn’t respect them.