Lyra's POV That night, for the first time since my return from exile, I slept without waking up in cold sweats. There were no ghosts of Vanessa in my hallway, no cold stares from servants who had forgotten their loyalty, and no heartbreaking distance between a mother and a son who didn't want her. The next morning, I began the process of unpacking my life. I carefully laid out my grandmother’s moonstone set on the small bedside table, arranged my worn journals on the wooden shelf by the window, and pulled out my mother’s pendant. I held the silver chain in my palm, feeling the cool metal against my skin. As I rubbed my thumb over the polished surface, my finger caught on a faint, almost invisible seam along the outer edge of the silver casing. My pulse quickened. I had worn this pendant during my childhood, but I had never looked closely at the small detail near the clasp. I pressed firmly against the edge, and with a soft click, the back of the pendant sprang open, revealing a tig
Last Updated : 2026-08-02
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