Chapter 108: A Mask Removed
Lyria's POV
"It's you."
The words rang through the hall with a clarity that felt almost violent.
I did not move.
For one suspended moment, I convinced myself that if I remained perfectly still—if I did not so much as acknowledge the accusation—then perhaps it would drift past me as though it had never been spoken at all.
Earl Hawthorne stood among the others, his gaze fixed upon me with a kind of startled certainty that made something in my chest tighten.
I lowered my eyes.
I would not answer him.
I would not give shape to what had just been said.
I was no one.
I had always been no one.
And so I remained as I was—silent, still, unremarkable.
A servant drawn too far into the light.
That was all.
The silence stretched for a while, but then I heard a voice speak. One voice I hated and would forever hate.
"My dear," she said with fake warmth in her voice.
My head snapped up before I could stop myself.
The Queen was already moving.
