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Elias stared at her. “You went to the palace? Pray, tell—what in the name of all that is sane did you go there to do?”“To give your king a piece of my mind,” Lyra said calmly, lowering herself into the high-backed chair.“Oh gods,” Elias muttered, dragging a hand over his face.“Oh gods,” Thaddeus echoed.“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” Elias said, trying to sound stern. “Seriously, Lyra.”“I’m not fighting your battles,” she replied coolly. “I’m expressing my emotions. And Matthew seemed in the best position to be on the receiving end.”She stood again, smoothing down her dress as she approached him. She paused in front of him, her gaze dropping to his arm, now swathed in fresh linen. Her fingers hovered, then gently brushed the edge of the bandage.“Does it hurt?” she asked.“Only a little,” Elias admitted. Though the truth was, the dull ache of the wound was nothing compared to the whirlwind in his chest every time she touched him.“I’ll get the maids to run you a bath,” s
She used to be the only one who saw him. Really saw him.He remembered the way her hand used to reach for his, the way her laugh bounced off the palace corridors. And he remembered the moment that all shattered—when she found out what they had done to secure the throne. The betrayal. The tears. The disgust in her eyes. That same look was in them now.“Stay away from us, Your Highness,” she said, the title laced with disdain that stung worse than any insult. “I beg of you.”She turned to leave, her posture regal despite the rage still humming beneath her skin. But Matthew, desperate not to let her vanish from his world again, called softly, “Lirae?”She stopped.“You think me a monster,” he said. “And I wish… I wish you would remember who made me one.”She turned slowly to face him, her brow furrowed.“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, confusion creeping in with her fury. “Who made you—?”But the doors to the drawing room slammed open before she could finish.“Miss Lirae,” cam
She paused mid-pace and dropped into the nearest armchair, her fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the armrest. Her foot tapped furiously against the marble floor. Tap, tap, tap, tap—Then, she shot to her feet again.“Lyra?”But she was already moving. She didn’t answer him. She didn’t look back. She marched out of the drawing room.Thaddeus peeked around the corner, watching her disappear.“Where is she going now?” Elias asked the room, or maybe the gods.Outside, Lyra stormed through the entrance courtyard, ignoring the guards’ curious looks. She marched toward the stable and waved down one of the waiting carriage riders.“You there!” she called.“Y-Yes, my lady?”“I need a carriage.”“Of course, my lady.” He jumped into action.“Where to, my lady?” the carriage driver asked as he tugged on the reins, rolling the wooden carriage into place beside her. The horses neighed and stamped their hooves as if impatient to get on with it—clearly as agitated as their passenger.Lyra, still f
“So what do we do?” Thaddeus asked, though he already feared the answer.Elias turned to him, blood still leaking between his fingers, eyes sharp with resolve. “We get her home. Before it’s too late.”“Back home… like to her world?” Thaddeus asked, frowning, his thick eyebrows furrowed so deeply they practically had a conversation of their own.“Yes,” Elias said with the weight of finality pressing on his voice. “I think it’s time we pay my mother a visit.”Thaddeus straightened as though someone had shoved a broomstick up his back. “Your… your mother?”“Yes,” Elias repeated. “Prepare us for travel tomorrow.”“But what about the wedding?” Thaddeus blinked. “What about her waiting until you claim back the throne?”Elias sighed. “I cannot put her in danger anymore. She needs to leave.”He had nearly died this morning—and now, as much as it felt like self-mutilation, he was preparing to let her go.*****Lyra couldn’t sit still. She’d paced so many laps around her room that the floorboar
Both men stepped forward, boots crunching over frost-glazed grass. Each held their pistol the way a knight might carry a sword.They stopped, back to back. The sky was a fragile hue of silver-blue, the first thread of sun just beginning to stretch across the horizon.They began to count—each footstep a breath closer to fate.“One… two…”“Three… four…”“Five… six…”Thaddeus could hardly breathe. He clutched his cloak in his fists and bit down hard on a prayer. Because if Matthew aimed true, if that bullet found Elias’s chest….“Nine… ten.”The two men turned in perfect synchrony, coats billowing.Matthew raised his pistol, slow and practiced, the gesture eerily calm. There was no tremble, no last-minute hesitation. He wanted this.Elias, meanwhile, took aim—not at Matthew—but skyward.As if the stars themselves had issued him a duel and he was simply returning the favor.Thaddeus shouted, “Ready!” and promptly shut his eyes.He couldn’t watch.Matthew grinned, though the twitch in his
Elias groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “It’s different.”“How?” Thaddeus asked.“I... I swear, I don’t have an answer to that,” Elias admitted, as the carriage rocked gently beneath them. “I loved Lirae, I did. But it didn’t come with the same passion. I saw her as a queen—a worthy partner. Beautiful, intelligent, flawless.”He ran a hand through his dark hair and stared at nothing for a moment, then let out a breath. “But with Lyra? It’s different. She doesn’t act like a queen, but she thinks like one. She doesn’t obey rules. She challenges me, uplifts me, questions me… and every time she opens that damn mouth—”“You want to shut it?” Thaddeus offered, grinning.Elias smirked. “Exactly.”“Because you don’t understand half of what she’s saying, or because your brain is flooded with all the sexually inappropriate uses for said mouth?”“Thaddeus.”“What? I’m trying to determine the emotional versus hormonal breakdown of your attraction.”“I’m shocked. And weirdly impressed,” Elia