Lyria sat sadly on her balcony that night. She dragged a plush chair out into the open air, angling it just so, giving her a view of the Bay of Bones, but in the very corner of her vision she could see the balcony she now knew belonged to the King.
But as dawn crept closer, he did not emerge. Lyria sat, alone, all night, with only the Goddess for company.
“I’d thank you to keep these feelings away from me,” she muttered, staring up at the moon. “I’ve never loved any wolf romantically, nor liked, nor even really noticed. I assumed it was simply my lot to be an unwed Warrior and I was happy with that. Why now?” she asked, plaintively. “Why this wolf?”
Only silence answered her.
“Why the King? An unavailable King, a King who cannot love me in return? Who will not love me in return?” sh
