Chapter 10 - Prove Your Worth

Lyra

The shared maid quarters were a chaotic swirl of movement as the maids rushed around preparing for the Alpha’s arrival. Lyra sat on the edge of her cot, straightening her new dress and trying to ensure every crease was perfect.The anticipation and friendly competition amongst them was undeniable. Lyra hadn’t said a word, simply observing, trying to stay out of the way.

This would be her chance to finally belong somewhere, and make herself useful. As a maid, she could earn trust, and discover what she truly needed to know, what Aunt Kyline sent her here for.

A knock on the door made her pause. The girls froze, wide eyes darting to each other. The single, confident knock came again before the door swung open. 

The other’s faces paled with recognition. Lyra's breath caught as she saw her for the first time. The Mistress of Shadows filled the doorway. 

Her black hair, sleek and straight, fell to her shoulders in a glossy wave. A long, delicate hand rested on the doorframe, slender fingers adorned with dark stones, glimmering with the life of subtle magic. Her skin was unnaturally pale as if she had not seen the sun in years. 

She cleared her throat. The girls scattered immediately, leaving Lyra alone in the woman’s shadow. Her dark cloak cascaded around her with an otherworldly fluidity. 

But it was her purple eyes so bright they glowed that chilled her spine. Lyra stood motionless, as the woman’s gaze raked over her with an unwelcoming scrutiny.

Lyra did her best to maintain composure, clenching her hands into tight fists at her sides. Even if her heart trembled, or her throat tightened, she had to prove herself.

The mistress stepped inside. A soft click marked the door closing, drawing the light from the room.

“Most may believe,” she began, cool and detached, “whether or not you remain here is Veyron’s decision. But know this, child—it is mine.” 

Lyra wasn’t sure what to say and she didn’t dare interrupt. So, she stood still, her head down. 

“You look familiar,” The mistress puzzled, walking toward Lyra. 

Lyra swallowed hard, trying not to show her panic. What about her looked familiar? Did she see her father in her?

The mistress painfully gripped Lyra’s chin, tilting her head, and inspecting every angle. Lyra winced as the mistress appraised her like a racehorse at auction. 

Moonlight trickled in through the narrow window, spilling like liquid silver over Lyra. Its ethereal light shimmered through the dark, responding to her unease. The mistress stepped back with a hiss, yanking her hand away as if burnt. 

“Curious,” she murmured, her gaze sharpening. “There’s something in you… you’re hiding something.” The mistress smiled coldly. “Do not mistake my allowance for kindness. You will prove your worth, one way or another.”

Before Lyra could think of a response, the mistress turned on her heel, sweeping out of the room. Lyra's shoulders relaxed, as she let out a long exhale. What was up with that? Why had she acted as if touching her had hurt? Who did Lyra remind her of? Would these unanswered questions lead to her eventual failure? No, Lyra was determined to find her place here and to fullfill the reason her aunts had sent her here.