Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,67

tongue felt superglued to the roof of her mouth. So the words came out slightly garbled as she said, “I have no idea. But if I don’t, and people find out I’m unmatchable, how can I be a Regent—”

“Because we say so,” Oralie interrupted, taking Sophie’s hands. “This was a Council decision. All that matters to us is that your team needs you—and we need you.”

Sophie closed her eyes, letting the wonderful words float around her brain before she forced herself to remind them, “But you didn’t know about my match status—”

“Perhaps we didn’t know this specific development,” Bronte cut in quietly. “But all of us have long assumed that there are sure to be many surprises ahead with you, Miss Foster. Not all of them ideal. And still, none of us hesitated to make our oath to you, did we?”

“No,” Sophie mumbled, wondering how this could possibly be the same Bronte who’d been so against her in the beginning.

“Your title is settled,” Oralie reminded her. “Your match status changes nothing. And if anyone questions that decision, you’ll have the full support of the Council.”

“You will,” Bronte agreed. “So I implore you, Miss Foster: Keep this team your focus. And the danger to the dwarves. And whatever else the Neverseen might be planning for Tam—as well as any further assignments we may ask you and your friends to take on. Anything beyond that will be a distraction at best and a danger at worst. Promise me you’ll put it out of your mind.”

She knew what he was trying to get her to commit to. And she couldn’t deny he’d raised some valid concerns.

But the best she was willing to give him was, “I won’t lose focus—and I won’t do anything that would endanger anybody.”

“I truly hope that’s the case,” he murmured.

“It is,” she promised.

Painful silence followed, until Oralie cleared her throat and reached for the circlet. “We shouldn’t keep the others waiting. They need their leader—assuming you’re still willing.”

Sophie stared at the glowing crown, wondering how long she’d actually get to keep it. She wasn’t convinced she could truly count on the Council to stand at her side if the public turned against her.

But… she had to agree that the Black Swan might go to great lengths to stop her from finding the information she needed.

The choice felt overwhelming—until she remembered the leap she’d just taken.

How freeing it had felt to surrender to the Sources’ power.

All she’d had to do was let go and rely on something bigger than herself to carry her through.

So she nodded, and Oralie set the circlet gently around her forehead.

The metal felt cool and heavy against her skin, but she could tell she’d get used to the weight of it. The pressure wasn’t more than she could handle.

“I’m sorry,” Oralie whispered before she stepped back.

“For what?” Sophie asked.

“Many things.” She adjusted a strand of Sophie’s hair. “But mostly for the fact that you’ve needed an ally so many times—and I haven’t been there. I promise that’s changing.”

“It is,” Bronte agreed. “You’re a Regent now—see for yourself.”

Oralie tilted the mirror, letting Sophie study her reflection. And she barely recognized the girl staring back at her.

The pink blush on her cheeks should’ve made her look softer. So should the wavy tendrils framing her face. But the bold lines highlighting her eyes made her look older instead.

Pretty—but fierce.

Different—and proud of it.

And that glowing crown…

“May I?” Oralie asked, pointing to Sophie’s Ruewen crest. When Sophie agreed, Oralie unfastened the clasp, and Sophie’s cape fell away from her shoulders, sliding to the floor as Oralie draped the much heavier silver cloak in its place, fastening it with her new golden Regent clasp and arranging the drape of the fabric so the howling wolf patch hung visibly over Sophie’s heart. Then she stepped back, giving Sophie another moment to study herself.

And this.

This was the kind of girl who commanded attention.

The kind of girl who didn’t care what anyone thought of her—because she knew exactly who she was.

The kind of girl who wouldn’t let anything matter. Not scandals or gossip or frightening responsibility.

This girl could handle it all—and would.

Sophie wasn’t sure if any of that could truly be said about her—yet.

But she wanted it to be.

Oralie nodded, her eyes shimmering as she made one final adjustment to Sophie’s cape. “Perfect,” she whispered. “You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “I think I am.”

* * *

Everyone had clearly been waiting on Sophie for a while when she returned with Bronte and Oralie to the dark, spotlighted