Chapter 55: Hunger in the Dark
Chapter 54: Hunger in the Dark
Lyria’s POV
By the time the ball had finally drawn to its tedious conclusion, the palace had grown quieter, though the echoes of laughter and music still lingered faintly in the grand corridors.
I had remained in the shadows until the last of the nobles began to disperse, until the Queen no longer needed my presence as Jacinta’s silent attendant or watchwoman. Only then had I been dismissed with a careless wave of her hand, as though I were no more than another piece of furniture in the room.
The moment I stepped away from the ballroom, the tension in my shoulders eased.
My feet ached terribly.
The marble floors of the palace were beautiful to behold but merciless to stand upon for hours. Each step I took down the long corridor felt heavier than the last, and my limbs seemed to protest every movement as exhaustion settled deep into my bones.
At last.
I could finally get some rest.
The thought alone nearly made me sigh with relief.
The palace corridors were mostly empty now, lit only by the dim glow of wall sconces. Their flickering candles cast long shadows that stretched across the polished floors and climbed the walls like silent sentinels. The servants had largely retired to their quarters, and the nobles had returned to their chambers or departed entirely.
I walked slowly, my steps careful and soft out of habit, though there was no one nearby to hear me. My mind wandered briefly back to the evening’s events, though I wished very much to think of nothing at all.
The Duke of Blackmere.
My lips pressed together slightly as his absence came once again to mind.
The Queen had been furious.
The King had pretended not to care.
But the explanation given had been rather... questionable.
A stomach ailment.
I exhaled quietly.
Was that truly the reason he had not attended the ball?
Or had he simply chosen not to come?
I did not know the Duke well enough to make such judgments. In truth, I hardly knew him at all. Our interactions had been brief, after all.
Perhaps he truly had fallen ill.
Or perhaps he had simply wished to avoid the spectacle.
Either way, the matter was none of my concern.
Now that I had finally been granted the opportunity to rest, I had no intention of wasting it wondering about a man whose thoughts and motives were entirely beyond me.
Sleep.
That was all I desired.
By the time I reached my chambers, the palace had grown even quieter.
I wasted no time.
My dress was removed quickly, the heavy fabric sliding down my shoulders and pooling at my feet. I folded it carefully despite my exhaustion, placing it neatly on the chair before turning my attention to the real matter that required tending.
My back.
I turned slightly toward the candlelight, reaching behind me with practiced ease as I unwound the bindings that covered the marks along my skin.
The cloth peeled away slowly.
I dipped a cloth into the small basin of water beside the table and began cleaning the wounds carefully.
They did not hurt as much as they had the previous day.
That was something.
Perhaps my body had simply grown accustomed to enduring such things. Or perhaps time had dulled the pain.
Either way, I finished the task quietly, wrapping the bandages back around my torso once I was certain the skin was clean.
When I was done, I allowed myself a small sigh.
The candle flickered again as I extinguished it with a soft breath.
Darkness immediately filled the chamber.
I slipped beneath the thin blanket and closed my eyes.
Sleep should have come quickly.
I was exhausted after all. My body ached, and yet it didn’t. Instead, a loud, unmistakable growl echoed through the chamber.
Hunger instead of sleep, it seemed.
I turned onto my side, attempting to ignore it. Surely if I simply willed myself to sleep, the hunger would fade long enough for me to rest.
For a few moments, the room remained silent.
Then my stomach growled again.
Louder this time.
I opened my eyes and stared into the darkness.
This was ridiculous.
I shifted onto my back and pressed a hand lightly over my stomach as if that might quiet it. The last thing I had eaten were the small snacks Duke Thorncrest and Earl Hawthorne had given me earlier in the day when they had forced me to eat.
And that had been many hours ago.
My stomach, it seemed, had no intention of allowing me to forget that fact.
I exhaled slowly.
Very well.
If I could find even a small apple in the kitchens, that would suffice.
Reluctantly, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet.
I used the moonlight to navigate the dark space... at least what reached my chambers. I picked up my mask first, for fear of running into anyone who would call me a demon. It was quite common when they saw my face without the mask.
I tied it securely, and only once I was certain it was properly in place did I move toward the door.
The palace corridors were darker now than they had been earlier.
Most of the candles had burned low, leaving long stretches of shadow between the dim pools of light. I moved quietly, slipping through the halls with practiced ease, my steps almost silent against the stone floors.
I kept walking until I reached the kitchens.
The scent of cooked food still lingered faintly in the air.
My stomach growled again.
"Just an apple," I whispered to myself softly.
That was all I needed.
Nothing more.
I pushed the door open slowly, wincing slightly as the hinges gave a faint creak.
The kitchen was dimly lit by a single lantern left burning near the far counter.
At first glance, it appeared empty, and I sighed in relief.
I stepped inside quietly, my eyes already scanning the counters for anything edible.
But then I froze.
Someone was here.
I should have suspected that, given the lantern, but I didn’t.
And perhaps, had I possessed my wolf, I would have smelled them from the corridor long before reaching the door.
Without thinking, I turned immediately, intending to slip back out the way I had come before I could be noticed.
But I didn’t get far before I heard a voice speak.
"Who are you?"
I froze in shock.
Goddess help me.
I knew that voice.
