Lyra’s POV
The invitation arrived on cream-colored parchment, sealed with Malachar's crest, inviting me to a private audience "to properly welcome" me to court life, three weeks after his last visit.
"You don't have to accept," Cassian said, turning the parchment over in his hands with obvious distaste. "I can send a refusal on your behalf, citing any number of reasonable excuses."
"If I refuse, he'll only find another way to corner me eventually," I said. "Better to control the terms myself, in a setting where I have some warning at least, than have him ambush me again the way he did at the Council session."
"I don't like it."
"I don't either. But I'd rather understand what he wants than spend the next month wondering." I met his eyes steadily. "I'll be careful.
I promise."
"Caref
