Lyra forced a smile, though it felt brittle, like a mask that could crack at any moment. She had no idea what gatherings he was talking about, no frame of reference for the world he was describing.
But she knew she had to keep up the charade, had to make him believe she belonged here.
"I do not move around much," she said, her voice tight with the effort of maintaining her composure.Rylan nodded, though his eyes never left hers.
There was something unsettling in the intensity of his gaze, as if he could see right through her, peeling back the layers of her facade to reveal the truth underneath.
"You seem uncomfortable," he observed, his tone laced with concern.
"Are you alright? Or is it me?"
"It is not that," Lyra replied quickly, her voice trembling. She wanted to say more, to explain herself, but the words caught in her throat as her gaze drifted past Rylan, toward the edge of the lake.
