Powerless

Chapter Seven: Endurance

The lantern’s golden light danced across the stone walls of the archives.

Lyra’s heart pounded as she faced the old man.

“You know who I am?” she asked cautiously.

Rowan studied her for a long moment before answering.

“I know who you could be.”

He walked past her, running his fingers over the ancient books lining the shelves.

“This room holds many forgotten stories. Some were hidden because they were dangerous. Others… because the truth frightened those in power.”

Lyra glanced at the empty shelf where she had found the mysterious book.

“The book disappeared.”

“It always does.”

She frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“It reveals itself only to the one it seeks.”

A chill ran down her spine.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Rowan smiled gently.

“Because I don’t have the answer yet.”

He looked directly into her violet eyes.

“But I have hope.”

Before Lyra could ask another question, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Rowan’s expression changed instantly.

“You mustn’t let anyone know we spoke.”

“Wait!”

But the old man had already slipped through a hidden doorway concealed behind one of the towering bookcases.

When the housekeeper entered moments later, the archives were empty except for Lyra.

“There you are!” Madam Beatrice snapped.

“Lady Seraphine has been looking for you.”

Seraphine was waiting in the ballroom.

Several noblewomen surrounded her, laughing over afternoon tea.

The moment Lyra entered, every conversation stopped.

Seraphine smiled sweetly.

“There you are.”

Lyra bowed.

“You asked for me, my lady?”

“I did.”

She pointed toward the grand staircase.

“The chandeliers haven’t been cleaned.”

Lyra looked up.

They hung nearly thirty feet above the marble floor.

“I’ll begin immediately.”

Servants brought a tall ladder.

As Lyra carefully climbed higher and higher, the ballroom fell silent.

She could feel dozens of eyes watching her.

Halfway up, one of the noblewomen spoke.

“Isn’t she the servant Lord Draven noticed?”

Another laughed.

“I heard he barely looked at Lady Seraphine.”

Seraphine’s smile never wavered.

Rumors already?

How annoying.

Lyra reached the top and carefully polished the crystal.

Suddenly—

The ladder shifted.

Her heart lurched.

Someone below had nudged it.

She clung tightly as the ladder wobbled.

Gasps echoed through the room.

Then it steadied.

Lyra climbed down slowly.

When she reached the floor, she noticed Seraphine calmly stirring her tea.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Seraphine said.

“It seems someone wasn’t paying attention.”

Her eyes held no apology.

Only satisfaction.

Lyra understood.

It hadn’t been an accident.

Days passed.

The bullying became more subtle.

Sometimes Lyra’s meals disappeared before she could eat.

Sometimes freshly cleaned rooms were deliberately dirtied so she would have to clean them again.

Sometimes servants, afraid of Seraphine, ignored her completely.

Only Mira remained kind.

One evening, she secretly brought Lyra a plate of warm bread and stew.

“You’ve barely eaten today.”

“You’ll get into trouble.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

Lyra smiled gratefully.

“Thank you.”

Mira sat beside her.

“I don’t understand Lady Seraphine.”

“I don’t think anyone does.”

Mira hesitated.

“Actually…”

She lowered her voice.

“I’ve worked here six years.”

“She wasn’t always like this.”

Lyra looked surprised.

“What changed?”

“The engagement.”

“The engagement?”

Mira nodded.

“Lord Draven was polite when it was announced, but never affectionate.”

“Lady Seraphine wanted admiration.”

“Instead…”

“She received distance.”

Lyra looked down at the untouched bread.

“So she’s angry.”

“No.”

Mira shook her head.

“She’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of losing.”

That night, Lyra couldn’t sleep.

She slipped outside into the gardens once more.

The moon reflected off the distant Heartspire.

Without thinking, she extended her hand toward it.

A faint ribbon of golden light appeared between her fingertips.

It flickered for only a second before fading into the night.

Lyra gasped.

“I did it…”

It wasn’t enough to light a candle.

It wasn’t enough to heal a wound.

But it was real.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“My powers…”

“They’re still there.”

Hidden behind the hedge, Rowan watched quietly.

“The bond grows stronger,” he whispered.

“But not quickly enough.”

Across the city, Kael sat alone in his study.

An unfinished contract lay open before him.

He hadn’t read a single word.

Instead, his thoughts kept returning to the servant with silver-black hair.

Cassian entered carrying another stack of reports.

“You’ve ignored three trade meetings today.”

“I know.”

“You’ve also refused dinner.”

Kael sighed.

“I need information.”

“About?”

“The servant from House Valmont.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve never asked me to investigate a servant before.”

“There’s something unusual about her.”

Cassian smiled knowingly.

“I’ll begin first thing tomorrow.”

As he turned to leave, Kael spoke again.

“Cassian.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Be discreet.”

Cassian nodded.

“Always.”

When the door closed, Kael looked once more toward the Heartspire.

For the first time in years, he felt as though destiny had finally begun to move.

He simply didn’t know whether it was leading him toward salvation…

Or ruin.

Far beneath the Heartspire, the Veiled One watched through shimmering pools of ancient magic.

A faint golden thread connected Lyra to the crystal tower.

It pulsed brighter with each passing day.

The creature’s shadowy form smiled.

“So close…”

It stretched out a hand, and black energy coiled around the golden thread.

“Let us see how much suffering your hope can endure, Heartbearer.”

The golden light flickered.

But it did not break.