The manor was silent, save for the faint crackle of a distant hearth. The heavy oak door of Selene's room seemed to close off not just the hallway but the memory of the day. Lyra's room was a world away, a deliberate placement orchestrated by Lilith, a physical reminder of the obstacles they faced. But physical distance couldn't erase the feeling of that moment in the library. Every time Selene closed her eyes, she was back there. She could feel Lyra's hands on her waist, the soft press of her lips, and the whispered murmur of her name. The accidental fall had been a chaotic blur, but the kiss that followed was a moment of profound, quiet clarity. She couldn't help but wonder if Lyra, in her own chamber, was also lying awake. Was the General's disciplined mind wrestling with the same confusion and wonder that was keeping Selene from sleep? Selene imagined Lyra tracing the curve of her own jaw, remembering the touch, the same way Selene was. She had been lost for so long, a fragment of a person. But with Lyra, she had felt seen, truly seen. It wasn't about Moon Weavers or Avalon anymore. It was about this new, terrifying, and beautiful connection. As she finally drifted to sleep, it was with the knowledge that their secrets and their growing bond were no longer just a burden, but a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Breakfast was a meticulously orchestrated affair in the grand dining hall of the manor. Lyra, ever the soldier, sat at her usual place, her posture ramrod straight. She ate with an efficiency that spoke of years of discipline, but today, her focus was not on her food but on Selene, who sat a few seats away, looking small and overwhelmed. Rory, Lyra's young ward, sat near Selene, his eyes wide with the usual hunger of a growing boy, oblivious to the simmering tension. Lilith, Lyra's mother, presided over it all, her presence as sharp and unyielding as her perfectly tailored gown.
Lilith's eyes, cold and assessing, settled on Selene. A palpable tension filled the air. "I trust your chambers were to your liking, dear?" Lilith's voice was honeyed, but the words held a barb.
Selene's cheeks flushed, but she met Lilith's gaze. "They were very nice, thank you," she said, her voice soft but steady.
Lilith's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Good. We must ensure our guests are comfortable, even when they've… overstayed their welcome." She took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea, her gaze never leaving Selene.
Rory, oblivious to the jab against Selene, forked another sausage. "It tastes good, ma'am," he mumbled, his mouth full.
Lyra's jaw tightened. She set her fork down with a barely audible clink.
Rory stopped chewing and looked around at the adults, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"Rory," Lyra's voice cut through the silence, sharp but not unkind, "you can bring your food and go to the training grounds."
"Yes, General," Rory mumbled, quickly gathering his plate.
"Mother," Lyra stated, her voice dangerously calm, "Selene is not a guest. She is under my protection. And so is Rory."
"Protection?" Lilith scoffed, a flicker of genuine disdain crossing her features. "She's a nameless stray"
Lyra frown, it was clear her mother was only targeting Selene.
"you dragged home from the battlefield. A liability, if you ask me. Her lack of pedigree is already an embarrassment to this family, as is your... refusal to accept the King's offer."
Selene, seeing the storm she had unwittingly created, took a calming breath. "I am sorry for any trouble I've caused," she said, her voice clear and surprisingly strong.
Lyra was already on her feet. "That's enough, Mother. My command and my decisions are not up for discussion." The General's voice, low and dangerous, echoed through the silent dining hall.
Lilith simply smiled, a cold, triumphant curve of her lips. She had done what she set out to do: expose the cracks in Lyra's facade. The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken hostility. Lyra, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword—a silent, subconscious gesture of readiness—looked from her mother to Selene. In that moment, she made a choice.
"Selene and I will be departing for the royal archives after this meal," Lyra announced, her voice a final, unshakeable command. "We have a great deal of research to do. Do not wait for us for supper, Mother." She didn't wait for a response. Lyra turned to Selene, her gaze softening. "Come," she said, extending her hand. It was a lifeline.
Selene took it without hesitation. The simple touch was a quiet defiance, a public acknowledgment of their bond. She rose, leaving her untouched breakfast behind, and walked with Lyra out of the dining hall, leaving Lilith to preside over her hollow victory. The meal was a battlefield, and the two of them had just won the first skirmish.