Everyone moved aside as Clo helped her out the door. She could taste their emotions on her tongue—especially Cato’s. His was like a blade sliced through her skin. Hatred. His or implanted? Nyx, as if sensing the pilot’s emotions, tightened her hold on him.

Rhea felt better outside the barracks. Losing the ability to hide her skin was terrifying. Her illusion had held up in sleep, during a fight, during sex—nothing had ever shaken it loose except for a conscious decision to show herself.

And now the others knew. If only the rumors about Evoli abilities weren’t lies, propaganda made up to sow fear in the Empire. Then she could make them forget what they had seen.

You have to face them. They deserve the truth.

Ariadne hurried out of the barracks after them and took Rhea’s other side. “Let me help.” Together, Clo and Ariadne helped her to the shuttlecraft. “The others will come around,” Ariadne murmured to Rhea. “You’ll see.”

Rhea thought of Clo. Would she be repulsed? And what about the others? Rhea understood a lifetime of suspicion and Tholosian programming was not so easy to unlearn, even if the Oracle was no longer active in the minds of anyone there. One left echoes. Nationalism cultivated prejudice. Everyone here was fighting against their own upbringing, Rhea included.

Eris was the first to leave the barracks, and the one who stopped closest to Rhea.

Clo edged in front of Rhea. A protective stance. “Keep that blaster in your holster, Eris.”

“It’s staying,” Eris said. “I’m not going to shoot someone for being Evoli, Clo.”

“You would have once,” Clo muttered.

As Nyx and Cato came outside, a wave of nausea hit Rhea. Cato’s emotions were sharp and curved as thorns. His hands were still bound in front of him.

Clo slid an arm around Rhea’s waist, pulling her close. “We need to get you on that shuttle,” Clo murmured.

“Not yet. Please. I need a moment for my stomach to settle.”

Rhea pressed her helmet to Clo’s shoulder as the other woman rocked her. She wished she could take the suit off, touch Clo’s skin. Press her lips to the other woman’s and forget everything. It was a strange reversal—usually Rhea was the one to offer comfort to others. To soothe their fears and worries so they could leave the Pleasure Garden and go back to their roles in the unyielding machine of the Empire.

“You’re not angry? Or afraid?” Rhea asked.

Rhea had held on to this secret for so long. So few had known about her abilities. The Archon. Damocles. Juno. The Oracle. Ariadne, only recently. Damocles had loved to use her skills as a tool for pleasure for himself. As a weapon against her. The Oracle couldn’t command or program Rhea, so Damocles had kept her hidden, locked deep in the Pleasure Garden.