Lyra's POV
I ran from the hidden worship hall in a rush, my heart pounding with fear, confusion, anger, and grief. My hands clutched at my dress as tears blurred my vision and streamed freely down my cheeks.
Lady Isolde was gone, and the blame rested on me.
The palace corridors felt like they were closing in as I stumbled toward my chambers, fighting to hold myself together.
No one could ever learn what had happened.
When I finally reached my room, I slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind me and leaning against it, struggling to steady my breathing. The walls seemed to press in, yet I dared not leave.
I had to think—had to figure out how to bury this dreadful secret.
As I paced the floor in a frantic daze, a sudden knock on the door jolted me, sending terror rushing through
