Chapter 45
Forty-Five
- LYRA -
Current day
The next morning after the ball, we’re all gathered in the dining room.
Rain pours outside, washing the mountainsides in gray and collecting on the windowpanes in speckled drops.
The room is lit by the overhead chandeliers and the tall candles lining the tables.
Lady Bethany commands us all to take our seats for breakfast, and as I grab my chair to pull it out my fingers tremble.
On the walk here, I noticed a glimmer in the shadows near a curtain in the hallway of our rooms. Barely saw it as we swept by.
A sparkle in the corner of my eye for a half second before it was gone.
Yet, I couldn’t ignore it. Allowing the others to pass me, I took a few steps back until that pinprick of a gleam caught my eye once more.
After I carefully brushed the curtain back, I found the source to be one single earring.
Glittering with tiny diamonds and rubies set in gold, with a crimson speckle of imperfection.
I dropped it as soon as I realized what it was, when the footsteps of the other women faded as they rounded the corner of the hallway out of sight.
Blood. Quickly grabbing the earring, I stuffed it into my pocket and raced after the group.
And now as I take my seat, I brush my palms down my gown to feel for that small bump of proof in my left pocket.
Sliding a glance to Marcella sitting at my left, Aelia gabs on about how lovely her dinner was last night with Cyrus. Marcella seems in a world of her own. Eyes set on her plate as she takes thoughtful bite after bite of fruit. I’m dying to ask her what she thinks of the earring I found.
I’m also dying to ask her what happened last night.
She hadn’t come to my room as she usually does.
And I still can’t theorize what it is that happened between dinner and her storming up to Cyrus and me.
Then again, what could’ve happened after she and Cyrus spoke alone in the reflection room.
I was swept away by Aelia for a good portion of the night—missing the time that Marcella must have slipped out of the reflection room. But not missing the time Cyrus left.
As he pulled the door closed behind him, I only got a glimpse of his face. Downtrodden. Eyes low and hand lingering on the handle for a long few moments before he stalked off and left the room entirely.
It wasn’t long after Lady Bethany dismissed us for the night.
I spent a good portion of my night staring out the window.
Weighing my skills of scaling the castle walls to her room to check on her, as she did me.
But the wine was far too much. I had made a mistake.
And instead, I fell asleep leaned up against the windowpane.
I dreamt of the beast again. The forest, blood, women screaming. Of its call.
“Come to me, and I won’t hurt the others.”
I woke in the middle of the night, standing before my bedroom door with my hand outstretched for the handle. The rest of the night I stayed awake until the sun rose.
“Girls,” Lady Bethany calls out. “Considering the inclement weather, we have decided to postpone today’s lesson outside for tomorrow. Today shall be your free day to do as you wish.”
As we all rise from our seats and crowd to the stairs, I can’t help but feel downcast at the women around us.
It should come as hope that our numbers are dwindling.
Seven died in the second trial, and two women have disappeared since becoming sick.
The reality that not everyone will stay looms over us all.
That there will only be one. And the others likely will die in the third and final trial.
As we crest the landing and spill out into the hallways, I move through the crowd for Marcella. Hoping to spend the afternoon with her and debrief on all that happened last night and this morning.
But she’s slipping through the crowd. I reach out and brush her forearm, and she steps out of my touch to whip a quick look at me.
“Are you alright?” I whisper as the other women’s footfalls muffle it.
She glances from my face down to my hand, then back up. “Perfectly fine.”
She begins to walk again, and I speed up to be beside her. Aelia quickly following behind us.
“Are you upset with me?” I prompt, searching her face.
She clears her throat, straightening her shoulders. “No.”
Tossing a cautious glance ahead and behind us, I ask, “Did Lady Bethany upset you?”
She snorts. “Always.”
“What happened?” I grab her forearm when she still won’t look at me. Then I squeeze. “You’re upset. Why don’t we go to the library so we can talk?”
She pulls her arm out of my grasp. “No. I think I’d rather go back to my room and rest.” She takes a sharp right turn at the end of the hall leading to our rooms.
Aelia brushes a hand against my back as I slow and watch Marcella disappear down another turn. “I can go to the library with you. Maybe she’s shaken from the trial. Best to let her rest.”
“Right…” I mutter, slowly peeling away from the hall and following Aelia down toward the library.
Marcella can be a bit temperamental, sure.
But I thought by now we had grown some sort of friendship.
The fact that she’s blocking me out for whatever reason sows doubt.
That perhaps all our relationship is for her is insurance for getting her way—for freeing her brother.
As we get to the library, several women are already curled up in the chairs with books.
Aelia and I pull ones from the shelves and find ourselves a seat near the others.
Moe and Stella are on a loveseat together, and I quickly avert my eyes before I make eye contact. Aelia and I are seated on a long couch.
As I flip to the first few pages of the book on birds I’m reading, I pause at the whispered conversation I pick up between Moe and Stella.
“You’re sure about it?” asks Moe.
“Yes. You haven’t seen her since last night, have you? She wasn’t at breakfast, and Lady Bethany said nothing about it,” Stella whispers back.
I slowly lift my gaze off the pages to them across from me.
Moe mutters, “I mean, no, I hadn’t seen her since her little scuffle with…”
The both of them turn their attention to me, and I dart my eyes back down to my book, flipping to the next page and praying they didn’t think I was paying attention.
Willow’s missing?
Sinking further back into the couch, I begin to recall our conversations from last night. My head throbs at the mental stretch. The night had become so blurry.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you, Lyra. It’s the trials, they’ve been getting to me.”
“Lady Bethany assures me they’re figments of my imagination. And soon, I won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
The memory is like a stab through my lungs, and I flinch forward, trying my best to hold back my reactions.
“Are you alright?” Aelia’s hand grazes my shoulder, her voice distant as I work through the muddied pool of my memories.
Of Willow grabbing my wrist with a crazed urgency, her eyes distant and glossy as we danced. Completely different from the woman who had invited me out onto the dance floor. And when Willow had stared up at the ceiling, I remembered seeing her earrings glittering in the lights.
I drop my book onto my lap and Aelia squeezes my shoulder. As I meet her worried blue eyes, I nod. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.”
She keeps her eyes on me for a long while as she slowly turns her face away and back down to her book.
I slip a hand down and slowly retrieve the earring in my pocket.
As I pull it out far enough to confirm the diamond and ruby earring, I bite my lip to keep myself from whimpering, then shove it back into my pocket.
It's Willow’s. And if it was left out in the hallway, hidden by a curtain, she didn’t just simply run away. How would someone get blood on their earrings?
I slap the book closed and rise to my feet, everyone’s attention snapping to me. Striding across the room, I place my book back where it was as pattering footsteps follow after me.
“Lyra!” Aelia hisses. “Lyra, where are you going?”
I can’t turn to face her as my thoughts begin to spiral. The most I can do is keep moving forward as I slip out of the library.
Aelia grabs my shoulder and turns me toward her. Her book still in her hand. “What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Willow since last night?” I whisper.
Her eyes flash a tad wider before she lets go of my shoulder.
“Lady Bethany said she went missing last night. They went to retrieve her earlier this morning, and her room was empty. They think she might’ve snuck out the window and run home.
Perhaps too afraid of what the next trial holds.
I heard she was quite traumatized from the last one. ”
I shake my head, slowly taking a few steps back in the hallway.
She leans forward, trying to reach for me again. “It wasn’t your fault, Lyra. I know you two had a quarrel last night, but you can’t put the blame on yourself.”
“I have to go speak with Cyrus,” I mutter and turn away. First, I take a few steps. Then I’m striding. Finding the sense of urgency hot on my heels.
“Lyra!” Aelia calls in the hall. “Lyra!”
I turn a corner away from the library, but she doesn’t follow.
I gather my skirts in my hands, quickening my pace without full-on running.
As I take a few more turns in the castle I pass the dining room and head toward my room.
I’m three hallways away when a door down to my left creaks open.
Jerking to a halt, then ducking quickly behind a curtain, I hold my breath as a familiar voice drifts down the hall.
“Cyrus, you can’t blame yourself for these things,” Devin’s voice is soft, pitiful.
“Then who should I blame?” Cyrus tosses back, his voice rough and raspy as if he’s come down with something.
Using my fingers to gently pull the curtain back a few inches, I peek one eye out across the hall at the open door.
Cyrus has his hand wrapped around the handle, the door halfway open and revealing some sort of room furnished with chairs, rugs, a desk, and bookshelves.
Farther in the room, Devin shakes his head. “Perhaps there is no one to blame.”
“There’s always someone to blame,” Cyrus grumbles back, taking a step like he’s about to leave the room.
“Stop, Cyrus. If you keep doing this—if you keep beating yourself up, we will never succeed.”
Cyrus drops his hand from the handle and turns to face Devin, his back now to me. “And so what do you propose I do then, hmm?”
Devin’s face tightens into something serious. Flicking his gaze up and down Cyrus, he whispers barely enough for me to hear, “Send her home.”
Cyrus’ hands clench into fists. “You know that’s not an option.”
“Look at yourself. You’re falling apart and risking everything we’ve worked for! And everything the people who came before me worked for!”
“Stop talking, Devin,” Cyrus growls, beginning to turn his back to him as he drops his head. Jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut.
“You need to hear the truth, Cyrus! What you’re doing is foolish. You can’t throw everything away for someone who doesn’t feel the same about you. Who isn’t worthy of you and what you offer. There are plenty of other women here who would be a dream for you if you only—”
Cyrus whips around. “Not for me. You’ve picked them all based on who will satisfy it!”
It? I swallow. My head pounds at the vague word. A steady thrum of pulsing threatens to drown out their conversation.
Devin holds his gaze for a long while. “And yet, I found you pressing Lyra to a marble column weeks ago.” He begins to stalk around the office with his hands behind his back, eyes never leaving Cyrus. “Your lips on hers, hands in her hair.”
My heart races in my chest at the mention of me.
I’m holding my breath hoping for an answer to a question I don’t know.
Devin stops near the door, his golden-armored back now to me.
Cyrus is still standing in the middle of the room, head low and back to us.
He hasn’t moved since Devin started talking.
“Your judgement is clouded and you’re confused. So, as your General and as your friend, I’ll dismiss her immediately.” Devin turns and takes a single step to the open door.
Quick as a shot of lightning, Cyrus is holding Devin up against the wall near the door by the throat. Devin’s boots kick out in surprise, his hands flying to Cyrus’ arm.
When Cyrus leans into him, he whispers something through his teeth I can’t hear. But his eyes are a force to be reckoned with. Hard and sharp, digging into Devin like that’ll be the thing that ends his life and not the lack of oxygen in his lungs.
Then something changes in him. Like the snap of a finger, the sinister look in his face switches to something else.
Shock.
Fear.
“I-I’m so…” Cyrus shakes his head, dropping Devin to the ground.
Devin rubs a hand on his throat and begins to back up out of the door. Never turning his eyes off him.
“Devin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Cyrus pleadingly reaches out.
Devin waves him off. “If you’re sorry, then truly you’ll see the error in your ways and correct it. Before more people get hurt.”
Then he finally turns and walks off, disappearing down the hall. Cyrus’ shoulders sag and he turns again, taking a few steps farther into the room. He leans heavily into his hands braced on the desk, dropping his head.
A grunt erupts from him and he smacks everything in front of him straight off the desk and onto the floor. His head perks up, and then he drops quickly to pat out a small starting of a fire from a candelabra he knocked over and landed on a book.
I use the moment to slip out and run. This time, I make it back to my room.