The next morning, Astrid left very early, just as busy as in the past few days, without even a moment to spare for breakfast together in the courtyard.
Lyra woke up, washed her face, tidied herself, changed into her daily casual clothes, and pulled white silk stockings over her legs. Just as she was about to hand yesterday's letter to a maid for mailing, she suddenly noticed another note on her desk.
[All the housemaids have returned to the manor and are ready for duty at any time. Breakfast is prepared in the dining room, including your favorite sweet pastries and soft pancakes.]
[Once Lyra wakes up, the clothes changed yesterday should be mostly dry. Please gather and put them away for me.]
Staring at the elegant, cold handwriting, Lyra blinked. She felt an unfamiliar smoothness under her fingertips, completely different from the rough texture of parchment, more like dried, glossy ink. She flipped the note over to read further.
[Please don't do anything strange to them.]
