Chapter 125: The Room They Give, The Work I Do
Chapter 124: The Room They Give, The Work I Do
Lyria’s POV
I was not surprised.
Not by her words.
Not by the threat.
Not even by the way she said it so calmly, as though speaking of the weather rather than someone’s life.
If anything, I had expected it.
My mother had always been the easiest way to control me, and the Queen had never been one to miss something so obvious. So of course she would use her again. Of course she would remind me where I stood.
And so I bowed.
Because what else was I meant to do? I couldn’t fight her or take the role of a healer or a surgeon and tear her head open to see exactly how her brain functioned, even though I really wanted to do that.
I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. I shouldn’t be having thoughts like this.
"Yes, Your Majesty," I said.
My voice came out quiet, steady, like it always did, like I had not just been told that my mother’s life rested on how well I obeyed. And like I had not just imagined performing brain surgery on the Queen.
The Queen waved her hand like I was something insignificant, something that had already overstayed its welcome.
"Get out of my sight."
I bowed again. This time I did it gladly. When I was done, I turned and walked towards the door.
I could feel her gaze on my back the entire time, sharp and watching, like she expected me to do something... foolish.
I didn’t.
I was almost at the door when she called again.
"Lyria."
I stopped and turned to her. I should have known that was the reason why she was watching me and not because she expected me to do something stupid.
"Y-yes, Your Majesty."
There was a pause, and then she spoke.
"Since you are now a... Moon candidate," she said, like the words themselves tasted unpleasant, "I will send maids to attend to you. I have some spare in my ranks and it would be rather unbecoming if people found out you, a... Moon candidate, did not have maids to attend to you."
For a moment—just a moment—I almost scoffed.
Maids?
I did not need to be told twice that those maids were eyes and ears.
Wolves who would watch every move I made and report it back to her without hesitation.
The Queen did nothing without reason.
And this... this was not kindness.
Still, I bowed.
"T-thank you, Your Majesty."
She dismissed me after that, and this time, she did not call me back.
—
I had barely stepped out of her chambers when everything started moving too quickly.
I was taken back to my chambers—my old one, if it could even still be called that—and told to gather my things.
There weren’t many.
There had never been many. I only had a few clothes. The ones I used to sneak out of the palace were beneath the floorboard. I couldn’t risk anyone finding them, so I decided to come back later.
—
The walk alone was enough to make me understand.
We kept going.
Further.
And further.
Until the palace started to feel... different. This part was quieter, less maintained, and colder. There were hardly any maids around here too.
I said nothing. I just followed.
Until we stopped.
The door in front of me looked fine. More than fine, actually. Large, polished, something that from the outside would make anyone think a person of importance stayed there.
I almost smiled.
Then the door opened.
And I stepped inside.
...
Dust.
That was the first thing I noticed. There was dust everywhere.
It settled on every surface like no one had bothered with the room in years.
The space was large, unnecessarily so, but empty in all the ways that mattered.
There was only one dresser... that wasn’t a surprise. There were cracks in the walls, the smell of mold, cobwebs everywhere.
But the main issue was the wind.
Even standing there, I could feel it slipping in through somewhere unseen, brushing cold against my skin.
I knew this part of the palace.
On windy days, it howled.
Not softly either.
Loud enough to keep a person awake.
Loud enough to make it feel like the walls themselves were alive.
I looked around slowly, taking everything in.
From the outside, it would look perfect. Inside, it was nothing.
Exactly what I should have expected.
—
The maids came in after me.
Three of them.
I turned slightly, looking at them, waiting.
"I will need water," I said. "And cloth."
There was silence. They shared a glance with each other before turning back to me.
"I cannot," one said quickly. "Dust affects my breathing."
Another lifted her hand slightly.
"My finger is swollen."
The third shifted where she stood.
"My legs hurt. I cannot move much."
I looked at them.
One by one.
Then I nodded.
"I see."
And that was all.
Because there was nothing else to say.
They weren’t here to help me. They were here to watch me.
So I didn’t argue.
I simply turned toward the door.
One of them spoke immediately.
"Where do you think you are going?"
I paused, glancing back slightly.
"To get supplies," I said. "To clean."
There was a small pause, and then she spoke.
"Oh... okay," she said.
I inclined my head.
And left.
—
The corridors were quieter here.
Less people.
Less movement.
It made it easier to walk without being noticed, though I doubted that mattered much anymore.
I made my way toward the maid quarters without thinking about it too much. I knew where things were kept. I had spent enough time doing this kind of work to know exactly where to go.
It didn’t take long.
I gathered what I needed—cloth, water, whatever I could carry.
It wasn’t much, but it would do.
I balanced everything in my hands and then turned to leave, and that was when I ran into someone.
I stopped.
So did he.
For a second, I didn’t recognize him because I was staring at his chest.
"Oh," he said in shock, and I blinked.
Earl Hawthorne.
He stood there, shirtless, his skin damp with sweat like he had been training or doing something far more exhausting than anything I had done that morning.
