The Man Who Refuses to Leave
Lyra's POV
I did not sleep. How can I?
A girl was dead because of me and her blood pressure was still in my head. Her last words kept coming back.
She was not the target.
I sat on the edge of the bed in the room beside Darius's chambers, still wearing the dark house clothes one of the servants left for me after they cleaned the hall.
My dress from earlier was gone, burned, maybe or hidden away with the blood.
Either way, I did not want to see it again.
Outside my door, guards moved all night, boot, low voices, steel but one trusted the dark now and neither did I.
A knock then sounded just before dawn and my body went tight at once.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"It is me."
Darius.
I stood and opened the door and he looked worse
