“I need to back up a little,” I say. “There are many pieces to this story. We grew up in the Violet Forest under the secrecy and protection of the Woodlands King.”

Linden bristles across from me, but she holds her tongue as I take a deep breath and prepare to live the pain of my history yet again. I don’t mention Nadir during my narrative either. That feels like a secret I need to keep for now.

When I’m done, Cyan studies me as if trying to decide whether I’m telling the truth. I don’t really care if he believes me, at least in so much as I can find the ark and get the fuck out of here.

“You went to Heart,” Cyan says. “My scouts reported a skirmish near the castle not long ago.”

“I did,” I say, deciding that information is safe enough. “Rion found me there and tried to recapture me, but I managed to escape.”

“So resourceful, aren’t you, Heart Queen?” Cyan says with a smirk.

A loud bang startles us all. Linden is back to her storm cloud presence, her fist against the table where she just smashed it. She stands up, her chair tipping over in her haste. “Do not utter those words in my presence. The Heart Queen is dead. As she should be.”

Cyan smiles at Linden, not the least bit affected by her hostility.

“Oh, Linden, come here.”

He gently snags her wrist, tugging her closer before wrapping an arm around her hips and kissing the bare skin of her stomach. She doesn’t move, her posture rigid.

“Are you all a . . . unit?” I ask, gesturing between them.

“You could say that,” Cyan says.

“So who are you going to bond with? Atlas told me you’d been searching for a partner for a long time. Can you bond with more than one person?”

The question slips out, and it’s clear this is a touchy subject as their eyes all meet and then look away.

“Who are you?” I ask Anemone. “What’s your story?”

“You do ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” she replies.

“It seems you all are asking the most.”

“Hmm,” Anemone answers. “I am a citizen of Alluvion who caught the king’s eye.”

She exchanges a warm look with the king, and I believe that part of her story, but something about her claim doesn’t sit right. I scrutinize her as she tucks a piece of hair back from her face. Then I notice that her roots are black like they’ve grown out, and it almost seems like her hair has been dyed teal to mimic the people of Alluvion’s. But why?

“Tell us what happened in Aphelion,” Linden interrupts, clearly trying to change the subject, which feels a little obvious. They’re clearly hiding something.