Lyra’s POV
“Who does he think he is?” I muttered under my breath, glaring in Dimitri’s smug direction. “Does he honestly believe I’m scared of him?”
No chance. No amount of intimidation would make me bow to him.
When the ladies were finally dismissed to our rooms, I could’ve danced with relief—well, if my blistered feet weren’t screaming in agony.
I drifted through the endless corridors of the castle, trying to remember the way to my quarters, my mind replaying the humiliating spectacle I’d been forced into earlier. My parents would be horrified if they heard. Lyra, dancing with the enemy? Shameful!
I groaned, cheeks burning. I needed to leave—fast. If I was lucky, the selection would drag on long enough for me to send word to my family and have them relocate to a safe house before Di
