keep your friends close

(36)

On the day of the tribunal, Sophie is nearly sick with anxiety.

She sits nervously in her front row seat beside the rest of the Black Swan Collective in their disguises. It was decided that the tribunal would be held privately for the sake of their anonymity, but Sophie still feels overexposed in front of the Council.

The rest of the small crowd is made up of other Black Swan members and Vacker family members that she doesn't recognize. Mr. Forkle sits on the platform beside the rest of the Collective. Sophie also sees Grady and Edaline sitting a few rows behind her, next to the Heks family.

Sophie accidentally makes eye contact with Stina. The other girl looks away just as quickly, and Sophie pretends it doesn't sting.

They haven't talked since the dance. As much as Sophie wants to clear things up with everyone—Stina, Maruca, even Wylie—she hasn't been able to find the right time, and it's been eating away at her like an open wound. She had thrown herself into work instead, alternating between homework and research deep-dives on Lodestar and the Neverseen.

There was one topic that still eluded her, though—the Vacker legacy that Alvar had been talking about. She'd looked into Everglen, as per Bronte's advice, but nothing jumped out at her. Certainly nothing that would have made Alvar fear for his life, unless Alvar feared historical architecture and landscaping.

"Less squirming, more posture," Sandor instructs her.

"Easier said than done," Sophie grumbles back at him, but straightens in her seat. She wishes Dex was here, but Juline wouldn't let him come. He's always able to lighten the mood at serious Black Swan events.

"Remember that this is also a show of good faith for our alliance with the Council," Sandor continues. "So at least look like you're happy to be here."

"Maybe you should remind Councillor Bronte of that," she says, gesturing to the raised platform where the Council is sitting. Bronte is, indeed, wearing his usual look of contempt. She's seen that face a lot lately—the Councillor still blamed her for the explosion at the Foxfire dance, and had been even more insufferable towards Sophie, if possible.

She's saved from a Sandor scolding when someone calls her name.

"Sophie! Hi!"

To her surprise, it's Fitz, donning a formal tunic and a brilliant smile. And beside him, dressed in lavender, is Biana.

She's wearing long sleeves and her hair is down, but it does little to disguise the fresh scars on her hands and face. Still, Biana's face lights up when she sees Sophie.

"It's so good to see you!" Biana tells her, giving her a hug.

Sophie smiles. "You too. How are you feeling now?"

"Doing better. Fitz told me how you went after the Neverseen." Biana smiles shyly. "I can't thank you enough."

Fitz grins. "You're a hero, Sophie."

She feels her smile waver. You're the only one who thinks that, apparently. "Thanks."

"So... what are you doing here, anyway?" he asks her.

She pauses. Sandor raises an eyebrow at her. "I'm here for, um, moral support," Sophie offers.

"Well, we were just on our way to our seats," Fitz says, and his eyes soften. "But we appreciate you being here. With everything that's happened, and now Alvar, well..."

Biana glances downwards.

"... it's just nice to see a friend," Fitz finishes quietly.

Her stomach turns. "Of course," she says.