Corinne missed Shadow Court. She missed the people, the friends she’d made. She missed the activity, the fact that there had always been something interesting going on.

Most of all, she missed the fact that while the Emperor had been in residence, Corinne’s mother had been too busy with affairs of state to insist on family dinners at which Corinne’s attendance was required.

Doubly annoying was the extra travel time since Corinne couldn’t jet herself to the cliff-top mansion that was her parents’ home. She had to wait for the clunky black flyer that belonged to her mother to arrive at her door. It was ridiculously conspicuous, an embarrassment for Corinne to be stuck in the slow, clumsy thing when she should be able to soar under her own power.

But she suffered through the ride, knowing it was only prelude to what awaited her on the other end. All the while berating herself. She was twenty-four years old. She should be able to get through a dinner with her mother.

Her father, Girard, stood in the mansion courtyard. He was a small man, easy to lose between his tall, athletic, elder daughter and his tall, statuesque wife. His dark hair was just starting to gray, and his dark skin had the sallow cast of a man who never got enough sleep. But his spine was straight and his eyes were sharp, as he looked Corinne up and down and said, “I’m relieved to see you’re well.”

He knew about the battle, about the demon. Not just because he was the Prime Minister’s husband. Nita Girard was Chancellor of the Akashic Academy—an incredibly impressive feat when one took into account that he was one of the unlucky few born without any gifts from the nima. But he had a brilliant mind, and an unparalleled understanding of magic on the theoretical level, and would have been the first person informed that a demon had somehow broken through what should have been impenetrable planetary barriers.

“I’m all right. My suit took the worst of it, and I was healed right after by one the Emperor’s Legionnaires.”

He came over to her, put his hands on her shoulders, studied her face, like he was searching for hidden injury. “One-on-one with a demon is no small thing. I’m proud of you.”

Corinne looked away, uncomfortable. “It was my whole squad. Everyone deserves credit.”

“Still. When you can make time, you should come to the school and tell me about the fight in detail.”

Girard was a busy man, an important man. His work at the Academy was significant, and took up so much of his time. If he was able to spare some of that time for Corinne, she would of course be there.

They fell in step together, walking through the brightly tiled archway that led into the house. No doors here—the nima kept out the elements. An ostentatious display, but nothing you wouldn’t find in the homes of any high ranking Dragon akashic.

Corinne had spent so much energy dreading being grounded for the next few months, she hadn’t even thought about her father and the relief of having someone she could talk about the fight with. Someone who would understand what happened and why it couldn’t be ignored. “Have you figured out how it happened? How the demon came through?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. There’s nothing obviously wrong with the protections surrounding Pax. I’ve had people both in darkspace and on this side combing through the energies, double and triple checking, but there’s no sign of what could have gone wrong. Which is why I’m particularly interested in your observations. You were there.”

That he wanted her thoughts, respected her opinions on this critically important matter—it made Corinne almost dizzy with pride. But she didn’t want to be anything but honest with her father. “I don’t know that I saw anything helpful. I was pretty distracted by the actual demon.”

“We’ll see. Sometimes you don’t know what you know until you’ve been asked the right question.”

Corinne had just enough time to wonder if maybe she had seen something useful before he changed the subject. “Your sister passed her defense today.”

Another sign of how out of touch Corinne was. She hadn’t even realized Maddie was testing. “Of course she passed. She’s brilliant.”

Girard frowned, and Corinne wished she’d kept her mouth shut. If there was one topic that could make her father angry faster than anything, it was Madeleine.

Who really was brilliant—Corinne was sure of it. When they’d played together as little girls, first exploring the bright bursts of power that was their akashic gifts waking up, Maddie had been able to call and shape the spirits in ways Corinne still couldn’t wrap her head around. Corinne was smart and talented, but Maddie had seemed to be a certified genius.

But then something had happened. Her gifts had never manifested the way everyone expected them to. Her school work had been lackluster, and a promising future had faded into confusion. Somewhere along the way, while Corinne had been focused on her own brilliant career, she and her sister had pulled apart.

The hall turned, and then opened out into the formal dining room where the final member of their dysfunctional drama waited at the head of the table.

Everything about Nita Sabine was studiously flawless, from the precise folds of her sari to the artful coils of her long, black hair. A severe woman, with an air of authority that had been absolute even before she’d been elected Prime Minister of the Dragon clan, a position she’d now held for ten years.

At Sabine’s right sat Madeleine, an almost perfect copy of her mother. Just as artfully flawless in her clothing, her hair, her poise, but with a studiously blank expression that Corinne knew was the defense Maddie had cultivated, just as Corinne’s temper was her own.

Tonight, Maddie wore a new ring on a delicate chain around her neck—an obsidian ring topped with the gold and ruby dragon that marked Madeleine as a graduate of the highest school of the Akashic Academy. Unsurprising Maddie wanted to show it off. Finally, proof that she wasn’t a total loss. That she hadn’t disappointed the line stretching back through her mother, their grandfather, their great-grandmother, and so on and so forth, tracing back through the entirety of their family history.

Girard took his seat across from Sabine. Corinne sat down across from Madeleine. And so the family was assembled.

“You’re late,” Sabine said in the tone of cool disappointment that was always the voice that existed in Corinne’s head.

“Good evening, Mother,” Corinne answered with false sweetness. “Hello, Maddie. Congratulations, by the way.”

Madeleine didn’t twitch, didn’t even glance in Corinne’s direction. She could have been carved from stone.

“Now that we are all here,” Sabine continued, with a pointed look at Corinne, “I have an announcement to make. The timing seems appropriate, given Madeleine’s accomplishment today.”

Corinne glanced at her sister, trying to make eye contact. It was a habit from a childhood when they’d shared every moment, every thought. But Madeleine’s full attention was on their mother.

Sabine continued. “I received word today that Suri Devitri of the Griffon finished his seclusion while the Shadow Court was in session, and is now officially made prince. The Lords Suri and I have agreed that once he has finished his Proving, we will officially announce an engagement between him and our Madeleine.”

Only because Corinne was watching closely did she see her sister’s flinch. But Madeleine’s verbal response was a perfectly moderate, “Thank you, Mother, for giving me this opportunity to serve our clan.”

“Oh this is bullshit.” The words were out before Corinne even knew she was going to speak.

Earning her a cold look from her mother. “Do you have something to say, Corinne?”

“I suppose I should say thank you for not selling me off.”

Sabine gave her an icy smile. “We all serve in our own way. Some more recklessly than others.”

This right here—this was the conversation Corinne had been dreading. Another round in the endless game of barbs and needles that were the best attention Corinne got from her mother.

“Was someone here reckless?” she asked with false innocence.

Sabine wasn’t amused. “Flight suits are expensive and time-consuming to build,” she said cooly. “They deserve better treatment.”

Corinne matched her tone. “I know exactly how long that suit took to build, since I built it.”

“And look what you did with it.”

“I fought a demon!” Raising her voice meant Corinne had already lost, but she couldn’t help herself. “The demon that shouldn’t have been on this side, and that now we’re supposed to pretend didn’t happen.”

“The demon you were told not to discuss.”

“The demon everyone in this room knows about.” Corinne glanced over at Maddie, who was looking down at her lap, quiet as ever. “Except maybe Maddie, but it isn’t like she would ever breathe a word she shouldn’t.”

“Madeline knows her duty. Do you?”

“Oh for fucking—”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed at the word—a slip—and Corinne reflexively shut her mouth. Some lines were too far at the dinner table.

Except that Corinne couldn’t stop. “You’re such a hypocrite. You talk about service to the clan, but you’re so concerned about keeping up the illusion of safety, you don’t seem to be taking into account that we’re not safe.”

“She may have a point,” Girard said mildly.

As was typical, Sabine ignored her husband and focused all her ire at Corinne. “The matter of the incursion is being discussed.”

“By who? What does that even mean? Committees and arguments and votes while the rest of us wait for something to actually happen?”

“That is government.”

“Interminable trivialities while you refuse to talk about the thing that really matters. Like the fact our planetary defenses don’t seem to be doing what they’re supposed to.”

“That isn’t your concern,” her mother said coldly.

“Isn’t it? I’m on the Phoenix Guard. I’m literally one of the planetary defenses.”

“An effective guardian indeed. If another demon comes through, will you stand on the ground and throw sticks at it?”

Sometimes Corinne suspected her mother meant to piss her off, meant for Corinne to lose control so that her mother could prove that Corinne still had so much to learn.

Except maybe Corinne had learned. Maybe Shadow Court had taught Corinne something—that there was a world outside this room. That there was an Empire outside of Pax. That there were ways that weren’t her mother’s ways.

Corinne had known that, of course. But her experiences at Shadow Court had cemented that knowledge into an understanding that maybe Corinne had more options than she’d realized.

She pushed back from the table and stood. “You know what? I’m done.”

“Corinne.”

Corinne ignored her mother’s rebuke. Left the table. Left the room.

It felt good to walk away. Good to exercise that freedom. Corinne knew exactly where she was going. Corinne wasn’t the same woman she’d been four months ago, and for that, she knew exactly who she had to thank.