ELYRA.
Eventually, I forced myself to calm down.
My chest still felt tight, and my fingers trembled as if they wanted to grip something—anything—and crush it. But I had learned, long before this mansion and its cold walls, how to pull myself back from the edge. Losing control never ended well. Especially not here, in this kind of place.
I decided to go to the kitchen and fix myself something small. After breakfast, though, I didn’t want to see another maid. The thought of crossing paths with any of them made my jaw tighten. I knew myself well enough to admit that if one more sharp comment or mocking look came my way, I might do something I would regret.
I rarely had altercations with people. I avoided them, actually. Silence had always been my shield. But these people—the people here a
