Lyra's POV
It wasn't the best topic to dwell on, but it was inescapable, especially now. The infirmary felt like a different world, a place where time stood still, where the reality of mortality could not be ignored. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of antiseptics, mingling with the underlying aroma of tears. The white walls, usually so sterile and unremarkable, seemed to close in around us, heavy with our collective sorrow.
Lady Eleanor lay on the bed, her once formidable presence reduced to a fragile shell. Her skin, pale and waxy, was so different from the vibrant life she once exuded. Her hair, which had always been meticulously styled, now lay limp and lifeless against the pillow. The room was eerily silent except for the soft breathing of mine and Dimitri, each breath we to
