The pair came forward at dusk.
Not running.
Not shaking.
Walking side by side like they had decided something and refused to reconsider it.
Lyra saw them before anyone else did.
They emerged from the eastern corridor, steps measured, shoulders squared. One was a guard from the outer watch. The other was a woman Lyra recognized from the infirmary rotation. Not the healer who had been detained, but her apprentice. Younger. Softer. Still learning how to keep her hands steady around blood.
They stopped a few paces from Lyra.
Together.
Precisely as she had said.
The yard went quiet in a way that felt different from fear. This wasn’t panic. This was anticipation edged with dread.
Mara exhaled slowly beside Lyra. “They’re really doing it.”
“Yes,” Lyra said. And her chest tightened pain
