Chapter 12 — The Dance of Masks
Lyra’s POV
I became adept at masks from a young age.
Silence was one.
Obedience, another.
And now—
Calm.
Calm was the most difficult mask to wear.
The shadow in the trees from the previous night lingered, even after dawn. I didn't bring it up with Kael. Not yet.
I had to be certain. Fear had shown me that not every emotion warranted expression.
But Raine warranted wariness.
He came to breakfast like a tempest disguised as tranquility. Impeccably dressed, his demeanor composed, yet his gaze was keen—observing, assessing, retaining.
I was seated at the long table next to Kael, my posture straight, my face serene. The ideal Luna.
Raine chose the seat opposite me.
Too close, once more.
"I trust you slept soundly," he inquired.
I offered a polite
