Lyra Emberheart had been the subject of great discussion these days. After placing third, she secured a great honor for the Spirituals, but while everyone else was celebrating her success, she seemed to be the only one who couldn't.
Sitting by her windowsill, her chin resting on her palm and her gaze looking out into the world, her breath came out in a steady, slow stream. The wind caught her gauze-like curtains and fluttered her pink night gown as the sun set.
Her victory was a good thing for the Spirituals, but the ultimate result was that it had emboldened a lot of people.
Despite the clear gap that had been displayed, maybe used the excuse of Aerin as a reason. They felt that if she had paired up with a Spiritual instead, maybe instead of third place, she could have secured at least second, or maybe, she would have made it far closer than it seemed.
