LYRA
I could still hear his voice in my ears long after the council chamber emptied.
Confusion is a sharper blade than certainty, Lyra. Remember that.
He had said it so casually as if it was a truth everyone knew, but it wasn't just a phrase. It was a warning. A knife he had pressed into my hand, daring me to wonder whether it would cut him or me.
I walked away from that room smiling, but my mind was restless. Darian had never agreed to anything I said, not once. He had always been stubborn, sharp, and unwilling to concede unless it suited him. Yet tonight, he had bent. Every suggestion, every piece of counsel I offered, he accepted with a nod.
It was unnatural.
Was he planning something? Did he think he could lull me with false confidence, only to strike when I least expected?
