Lyra’s POV
I stood waiting outside the dungeon entrance, my arms crossed as the guards finally brought Martin out. He was a mess—covered in dirt and grime, his hair matted, his clothes torn and reeking from the months he had spent in the dark, damp dungeon. The moment I saw him, my heart sank. How could I have let this happen to him? I wondered.
"Follow me," I said quietly, leading him out of the dungeon without meeting his eyes. Martin nodded, obedient as ever, though he seemed wary of his new freedom.
We walked in silence through the palace corridors until we reached my home. As soon as we entered, I turned to one of the maids.
“Prepare a bath for him and have his clothes changed. Make sure his hair is washed and treated,” I ordered.
The maid nodded and gestured for Martin to foll
