Lyra's POV
I walked down the hallway, each step a silent probe against the cold stone floor. The air hung heavy with the scent of dust and something else, something faintly metallic.
Unlike the familiar path to my rooms, this section of the castle was a labyrinth, its secrets closely guarded. My fingers traced the rough-hewn wall, a yearning for knowledge prickling my curiosity.
I pressed my ear against the cool stone, hoping to catch a whisper of conversation, a clue. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant drumming of rain against the high windows. Frustration gnawed at me. Weeks had turned into months, and I was no closer to understanding why I was a prisoner in this magnificent, decaying cage.
The only comfort was the library, a haven of towering bookshelves that grazed
