And then there’s Prince Caelan of Victory. His young features stand out even more near his brothers, his hair as snow white as I remember. Silver eyed and a crown of branches on his head, he wears his furs and white uniform and a vest etched with silver detailing. Although I remember his smile well, he doesn’t wear it now.

The colors evaporate, and I’m standing in a throne room made of obsidian and stone. Everything is sleek and mirrored, the walls like glass looking into a galaxy of stars. An enormous staircase leads up to a throne—tall and thin and too big for any one person, yet on it sits a woman with a shaved head. A simple circlet rests against her forehead, and her dress spills to the floor like ink. The material shifts with her movements, changing from black to indigo to gold.

I know her. I’ve seen her before, in a place I shouldn’t have.

Lips painted charcoal and skin more luminous than honey, Queen Ophelia sits on the throne with her eyes closed.

She doesn’t look like royalty.

She looks like a god.

I feel myself floating forward, one step at a time, and for a minute I think I’m so close I could touch her. And then, as if I’ve summoned her awake, her black eyes flash open.

All I can hear is my own scream.

The throne room dissolves, and when I open my eyes, I see Annika sitting across from me, still holding my hands in her palms.

I yank my arms away abruptly. My heart feels battered and fragile, and every beat sends a sharp pulse through my body. “What was that?” I ask with hardly enough air in my lungs to get the words out.

She sits back and clasps her fingers together. “An Exchange.”

“Was that…? Were those your memories?” I ask, clutching at my chest. I still see the woman who gave her life for me—for Annika, I mean. I can still feel her heart breaking.

And Ophelia… Does that mean someone actually met her?

Annika’s face is steady. “Some of them were memories. But most were knowledge—information we’ve shared among ourselves. Things we’ve Exchanged over time.”

I press a hand to the side of my head, feeling a tingling sensation where the ache usually is. “So the parade? And the throne room?”

“We weren’t really there. Our minds like to fill in the gaps of what we know. So even though they might feel like memories, it’s mostly just information.” She leans forward. “But now you know everything we do about the Residents.”

My brain feels like a sponge that’s absorbed too much water, and I’m struggling to hold everything in. I feel so much pain, so much fear. But mostly I see Queen Ophelia’s eyes watching me. Seeing me.