The next morning, someone knocks on our door, and I slide out of bed to find Tristan on the other side, his hand running across the back of his neck. He’s wearing a dark green tunic and black leggings with knee-high suede boots. His midnight hair has grown longer over the last months, curling in waves around his pointed ears and the base of his neck.

“Tris, what’s wrong?”

“Cedar asked to speak with me.”

“Oh,” I say, immediately understanding why my brother is nervous. “Does he—?”

“I don’t know,” he says, cutting me off. “I don’t know.”

“Tris, it will be okay. It’s not like this is a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it? What if he thinks it’s a terrible thing? You saw how much Linden hates us.”

He paces back and forth, and I’ve rarely seen my brother this nervous or unsure of himself.

“What’s worrying you, specifically?” I ask.

He sighs and plants his hands on his hips, dropping his head.

“When you told me about it, I kind of just pushed it away. I didn’t want to think about or deal with it. I was never prepared for this. I feel . . . overwhelmed, Lor.”

By now, Nadir has appeared at the door, half-dressed and mussed from sleep.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Nadir and Tristan exchange a look.

“Sorry. I heard what you were just saying,” Nadir says. “Come in.”

He jerks his head for Tristan to follow, and my brother hesitates for a moment before he enters. They’re still warming up to one another.

“Sit down,” Nadir says, and when Tristan hesitates again, he adds, “Look, I’m giving up my crown, and you’re getting one. Things that neither one of us ever expected. I think we can talk about this.”

Tristan’s eyes move between us. “You mean—”

“Yes,” Nadir says. “I will be giving up my place as The Aurora’s Primary.”

“You would do that for her?” Tristan asks.

“I would do anything for her. I hope that’s obvious by now.”

Tristan blinks before his gaze narrows, his eyes dragging over Nadir as if he’s testing the truth of his words. Something softens in his expression.

“Thank you,” Tristan says, bowing his head. “For taking care of her. For . . . being there for her. I know I’ve been hard on you.”

Nadir raises his hand. “With good reason. You don’t owe me anything.”

Tristan’s gaze slides to me. “Maybe not, but my sister seems pretty fond of you, and I—” He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “And we’re going to be family soon.”

Tears burn the backs of my eyes as Nadir’s face cracks into a grin.

“Then have a seat,” he says. “Let’s talk about this.”