would have let her go off with a stranger.
Then again, Resplendence was a Starmark. And they didn’t go anywhere. Instead, the guard plucked a crystal from one of the pouches at her waist. Lilya knew about these—had one of her own—so she locked hands with Resplendence around it. Now, anything they said couldn’t be overheard, even by the cleverest of fox ears.
Privacy. The first novelty of travel.
Ginkgo and Kyrie eased back, giving her room to speak for herself.
Resplendence carefully slid one hand into a supportive position under Lilya’s. “May I know what you’ve been hiding.”
“I’m a beacon.”
Slim eyebrows arched. “That is well-hidden, but hardly the secret you wished to keep from these males. Therefore, it’s not the truth I’m offering to protect.”
Ever talked like this sometimes. Insisting he would protect them from anything that dampened their spirits, be it bad dreams, hurt feelings, or failing grades. Still threatened to sniffen them if she or Kyrie tried to keep something from him.
Lilya eased closer. “I’m a beacon,” she repeated softly. “But being a beacon isn’t a job.”
“Your classification hasn’t been assessed?”
She made a face. “Of course it has. Many times. I’m a beacon.”
Resplendence frowned. “But that’s not … ah. Do they look no further?”
“They do. They’ve tried so many times.” Uncle Argent was especially keen on helping her refine her superlative soul, to define her path. “It’s no good. They can’t pinpoint my aptitude because I don’t have one.”
“You are a tribute to your parents’ strength, but you aren’t sure how to stand in your own?”
She put it so simply, Lilya was all amazement.
“I understand a little.” Resplendence rolled her eyes. “Try being Glint Starmark’s daughter.”
Was there a lot of pressure on her because her dad was First of Dogs? Maybe she did understand the weight of expectations placed on a daughter of the First of Wards.
“My case is a little different. You see, I have sufficient years to consider a suitor, and my sire wants my happiness. But his enthusiasm for the topic exceeds my own. If I didn’t know my own mind, I might mistakenly conclude that my only value to the pack will be found in the number of pups I add to his lineage.”
Lilya nodded.
“Then it’s good that you’ve come to us. To Wardenclave. And you shouldn’t fear your courses. They’ll help you know your own mind.” Resplendence smiled. “Then you’ll stand proudly, sure of your place.”
“Is that what you did?”
Resplendence brushed a kiss against Lilya’s cheek. “It’s what I did, and it’s what I’m still doing. Making up your mind will be good, but changing your mind is also part of becoming.”
That was a relief. It would be terrible to choose a course that didn’t fit.
“You seem more at ease.”
Lilya decided she was. “Thank you.”
Taking back her crystal, Resplendence raised her voice to include Ginkgo and Kyrie. “If you need me, ask any of the guards.” Standing tall, she proudly declared, “The sisters and daughters of Radiance Starmark are strong.”
The bus carried them through the gate, up a steep series of switchbacks, and along the rim of a large green that looked to be a perfect circle. Buildings lined the road, and paths fanned away, leading to cabins. They pulled to a stop in front of a low building draped with banners representing the colors of every reaver classification, but Lilya was more interested in the man standing out front, holding a chubby toddler, accompanied by a large black feline.
Gregor had grown so much since last Dichotomy Day, when Timur had arrived with their invitations to Wardenclave. He’d stayed long enough to convince their parents—and especially Uncle Argent—to accept Glint’s invitation.
It had taken two whole months.
In the end, Lilya guessed that it was little Gregor who swayed the fox. For once they became attached, there was no way Argent was letting the little boy fall into anyone else’s clutches. Ginkgo must go. No other minder would do for a son of Stately House.
Ginkgo was off the bus in a flash.
And it was nice to see Timur so glad.
“He is like us,” said Kyrie, still in his seat. “Brother took care of him, too.”
“All of us,” agreed Lilya, who had spent as much time in Ginkgo’s arms as Mum’s. Maybe even more. “And all of our children.”
Kyrie softly replied, “Yours, perhaps. If you stay at Stately House.”
Lilya started to say that she’d never leave. She never wanted to, but she couldn’t know that for certain. Darya had been contracted away, never to return. And Isla received offers