with melodies about seeds taking root and growing stronger every day, and Silveny flooded Sophie’s mind with images of the two of them soaring higher and higher and higher—leaving everything behind.
And even though tears still stung Sophie’s eyes and she was pretty sure the knots inside her would never fully unravel, when Edaline whispered, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Sophie believed her.
And Sophie whispered, “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Sophie—more than anything.”
* * *
“We need to talk,” Mr. Forkle’s wheezy voice said behind Sophie, and she was proud of herself for not jumping.
She’d had a feeling he’d be stopping by. That was why she’d stayed outside in the pastures, choosing to sit near the gorgodon, where she knew they wouldn’t have any eavesdroppers. Plus, it gave her a chance to see that Keefe had been right: Wynn and Luna were using their strange teleporting style to sneak into the vicious beast’s cage—which made it a little less terrifying to watch the three creatures “play.”
But only a little.
“Do you think Wynn and Luna are drawn to the gorgodon because it’s the last of its kind and they sorta know what that feels like?” she asked without turning to look at Mr. Forkle.
“I suppose that’s possible,” he said, and she could hear his footsteps bringing him closer and closer. “But you might also be giving two stubborn baby alicorns more credit than they deserve. Children don’t like when things are forbidden. It tends to make them want it all the more.”
The comment felt like a dig, and Sophie refused to acknowledge it.
Instead, she decided to take control of the conversation.
“I know what you’re here to talk about,” she told him. “And I’m really not in the mood. So here’s what you need to know: I’m done searching for my biological parents. And I’m not going to tell anyone what I know, even though it’s already messing up my life. So you can skip the lecture or the pep talk or whatever you were planning. You’re already getting what you want. I’ll be the good little moonlark.”
Mr. Forkle sighed and sat down on the grass beside her—which looked like a pretty uncomfortable process given how swollen the ruckleberries had made him. “Fair enough,” he said quietly. “And for what it’s worth… thank you.”
Sophie sat up straighter.
She wasn’t sure if that was the first time he’d used those words with her—but either way, it felt… different.
A real acknowledgment that she was making her own decision—even if it still didn’t feel like she had a lot of choice in the matter.
“I did actually come to give you an update as well,” Mr. Forkle added after a few seconds. “Nubiti sent a report from Loamnore—and it’s good news. She’s figured out how to remove those pieces of magsidian. So while it would be unwise to let our guard down, it’s looking quite promising that we may have managed to thwart the Neverseen’s plan before they could fully put it into effect.”
Sophie couldn’t return his smile. “It… can’t be that simple.”
“It’s not. Apparently removing the stones is quite a dangerous process, so it’s going to take at least a week to get through all of them. And given yesterday’s revelations, there’s a strong chance that what was being planned in Loamnore has nothing to do with Lady Gisela’s plans for Mr. Sencen’s legacy. So there is still plenty of work to be done. But it’s positive progress all the same. I’ve already updated the Council—I trust you’ll see to updating your teammates?”
Sophie nodded, wondering why the idea of that felt so nauseating.
Until she realized…
Checking in with her team meant checking in with Biana. And there was a very good chance that Biana knew about the breakup—and might’ve already told the rest of the team as well.
Suddenly it seemed absolutely essential for Sophie to help Grady and Edaline feed all of the animals. After all, she needed to show them that she was doing fine—keeping busy—not sitting around moping over boy problems.
Cleaning her room felt equally important.
And she definitely needed to sort through all of her gloves, since she’d decided she would still wear a pair every day, until switching her enhancing on and off felt like second nature.
She also decided to polish up all of the Articles of her Regency—though that was a mistake and made her think of the day she’d gotten them, and how Councillor Not-Her-Mom had brushed her hair and gently applied makeup and pretended to be so outraged when Bronte discussed