Even at a young age Lyra noticed things long before anyone thought to ask her to.
She noticed when servants stopped humming while they worked and when they began to slowly disappear.
When meals lost their second course. When Father started wearing the same coat two days in a row. When Hollis began cutting bread thinner and pretending it was intentional.
She noticed when the mansion began to sound hollow and echo.
She noticed when Theo changed, It wasn't sudden.
Theo had always been quiet, always observant. That wasn't new. What was new was the weight behind it. The way he listened now—not like a child absorbing the world, but like someone measuring it.
Lyra watched him from the stairwell one afternoon, halfway hidden by the bannister as he sat at the long dining table with Master Iven. Papers were spread before him. Ink stained the side of his hand. He frowned at the page like it had personally offended him.
"You skipped three steps," Master Iven said.
"They weren't necessary," Theo replied.
"They are if you want to be understood."
Theo sighed.
Lyra smiled faintly despite herself, laughing inside as it was a common occurrence with him.
He used to sigh like that when he was trying not to cry.
Now he sighed with the expression of someone who'd already decided the world was inefficient.
She leaned against the wall and listened.
"I don't understand why we're learning this," Theo said. Not petulant. Curious. That somehow made it worse.
"So you don't repeat the mistakes of the past," Master Iven replied.
Theo tilted his head. "But we're already paying for them."
There was a pause, then Lyra winced. She understood the situation their family was facing, but she didn't know how much Theo understood of it.
Master Iven recovered quickly. "History teaches context."
Theo nodded, but Lyra knew that look. He wasn't convinced.
Later, she found Theo in the corridor outside the kitchen.
He didn't go in. He never went in anymore.
He just stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels, listening. Lyra leaned against the opposite wall.
"You're hovering," she said.
Theo startled. "I'm not."
"You are," she replied. "You always do when you want something."
Theo frowned. "I don't want anything."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. He hesitated, then sighed.
"…I want to bake" Theo said.
There it was.
Lyra crossed her arms. "You know you're not allowed yet."
"I know" Theo replied with slightly exasperated.
She studied him. He was taller than last month. His sleeves were shorter. He looked too thin around the edges, like the house itself.
"I heard you with your tutor, you're doing well with lessons," she said.
Theo shrugged. "I guess."
"That's not an answer" but Lyra knew her brother this was common for him. He was the type of person that accepted criticism, but not compliments.
"They're… fine," he said carefully. "I just don't like learning things that don't help."
Lyra snorted. "Welcome to education."
He smiled faintly, then looked back toward the kitchen.
"I don't think I'll mess it up," he said quietly.
Lyra's chest tightened, she knew Theo meant well, but he didn't fully grasp the depth of the hole House Oaten was in.
"That's what scares me," she said before she could stop herself.
Theo turned. "What?"
She hesitated. She hadn't meant to say that. But once the words were out, she couldn't put them back.
"You think if you prepare enough, you won't fail," she said. "But that's not how things work."
Theo looked genuinely confused. "Isn't it?"
Lyra laughed once, sharp and humorless. "No. It isn't."
She crouched in front of him, bringing herself to his eye level.
"You can do everything right and still lose," she said. "Trust me."
Theo swallowed.
"I just don't want to waste anything," he said. "Time. Food. Chances."
Lyra softened despite herself. She reached out and straightened his collar, fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary.
"I know," she said. "But you're allowed to be a child a little longer."
Theo didn't answer, instead he slowly turned looking as if in deep contemplation an walked towards his room.
That night, Lyra lay awake listening to the house settle.
It creaked differently now. Like an old thing compensating for weaknesses. She'd learned which sounds meant safety and which meant neglect.
She thought of Theo hunched over his lessons, hands itching for work he wasn't allowed to do yet.
She thought of Father pretending this was all under control.
She thought of Hollis keeping the ovens warm out of stubbornness more than necessity.
Theo was changing, becoming sharper as everyday came and went
And that scared her more than if he'd been reckless, because reckless children could be protected.
Careful ones… sometimes walked straight into responsibility and never looked back.
Lyra turned on her side and stared into the dark.
She would watch him.
Someone had to.