44
Kiria
Kiria stared at her lyra, but no music came to her. The pain had subsided, but it still racked her whole body with a dull ache.
For hours she’d sat, waiting, knowing that any second…
The stabbing knowledge of Firian’s pain had struck more quickly than she expected. She’d tensed, bracing herself for the pain to pitch higher and higher. Maybe she should have called for a doctor.
If only she’d understood the depth of Firian’s ambition sooner. She knew what he was, of course, but what if there were something she could have done to prevent this? The thought echoed loudly as it would in a hollow room, again and again. No one could blame her for her grief. She’d chosen the Kingdom above Firian. Even above herself.
“Petra Madola,” a guard announced.
Kiria, tired from the ache, look
