Chapter 21 - BURNT BRIDGES

"Where is Lyra?"

A question that Dylan wanted to ask as well. Astrid's face turns apologetic as she replies,

"She couldn't make it due to some political affairs. She conveys her apologies to everyone and said that she heartily wished she could be with us."

"Is everything alright?"

This time it was King Aaron that inquired.

"Definitely. Hopefully, it is. There was some unrest and struggle going on so she had to stay back and handle everything personally. Although she extremely did look forward to coming here. Not long ago until last night, she was extremely thrilled. However, things took another turn. She has sent her heartiest wishes and apologies for not being able to attend."

"It's extremely unfortunate."

"I sincerely wish she would have been over here. Nevertheless, I hope everything is alright back there."

"Thank you for your good wishes."

"Well, we can't merely keep standing here now, can we? Let us go inside."

"I'll go inform the maids to get the refreshments ready."

The Queen merrily went inside. Whereas King Aaron turned to Alexander and Dylan,

"I have some work to do. I will hastily conclude it off so escort her inside properly. Got it?"

He then turns to Astrid and fondly smiles,

"I will see you soon. Please be at ease and think of this palace as your home. It is delightful to have you here."

"Thank you."

Astrid smiles back as he then takes his leave. There was this uneasy silence. Dylan was about to probe more into why Lyra wasn't here when Astrid who was observing Alexander remarked,

"Since when did your highness start wearing grandma's glasses?"

Upon her comment, Dylan started laughing out loud while Alexandar embarrassed with his face reddened took off his glasses.

Even though Dylan and Lyra were close, Astrid and Alexandar weren't as close since Astrid would mostly be playing around with Dylan and Lyra when they were young. In spite of that they were comfortable enough that despite not meeting and staying in touch so much, whenever they would meet, they would talk as if they have known each other forever.

Even now, Astrid had commented based on her sheer curiosity since Alexander never wore glasses before. She frowns at Dylan's reaction and naively adds,

"Why are you laughing? I was merely intrigued since his eyesight was not that bad before."

In between laughs, Dylan turns to Alexander and retorts,

"See, even people from Anemoi think they are grandma glasses."

Confused, Astrid remarks,

"Did I utter something wrong? Are they not entitled as grandma glasses?"

Dylan stops laughing and turns to Astrid,

"Wait...you weren't teasing him?"

Swaying her head, Astrid replies,

"No, I genuinely thought they are dubbed as grandma glasses, are they not?"

Still chuckling, Dylan pats Alexander and states,

"Go ahead, grandma. Explain to her highness what these spectacles are called."

"Well..."

"Ah, just a moment. Sorry to interrupt."

Astrid interrupts and hands Dylan a letter,

"This is for you from Lyra. She was terribly saddened at not being able to come and wanted to convey her feelings. Hope you understand."

Startled Dylan rapidly seizes the letter,

"Thank you."

Astrid then turns to Alexander,

"Sorry for that. What were you mentioning about the glasses?"

"Well, they are.."

They start walking inside the Palace as Astrid intently listens to his explanation,

"exclusively made for me by the brand called Painite. These strings were delicately handcrafted with the rare cloth..."

Alexander stops talking when he observes Dylan not following them. He turns and inquires,

"Are you not coming?"

"You guys go ahead. I will unite with you after reading this."

"That guy sees nothing else except when it comes to her letters."

Alexander remarks as he then turns around and regards Astrid waiting. She reminds him what they were talking about,

"What type of rare cloth?"

Her slight gesture strikes his heart as he holds antiques and stuff made from them quite near and dear to his heart. Something which his family never genuinely appreciates and ridicules him for as well sometimes. He has tried offering the same explanation to them but just like earlier, they disregard him. Chiefly because he provides them the same explanation every single time and they must have crammed his answer by now.

Nevertheless, seeing how Astrid was attentively listening to his every word begat him to feel appreciated for the first time in his life after living with such a family.

Meanwhile, Dylan instantly opens the letter and starts perusing it,

"𝑀𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒟𝓎𝓁𝒶𝓃,

𝐼𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒸𝑒𝓁𝑒𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒, 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝑒𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓎. 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝑅𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎, 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓈.

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃. 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒽𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝓎. 𝐻𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃, 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅 𝓉𝑜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅 𝓉𝑜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑒𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓎. 𝐼𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝑒𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓁𝓎 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽. 𝒴𝑒𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃, 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝑜𝓉. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝐼 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹. 𝐼𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓎, 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀.

𝒜𝓃𝓎𝒽𝑜𝓌, 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉, 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈. 𝐼 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓈. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒢𝒶𝒾𝒶, 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑒𝓁𝑒𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎...𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝑒𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝒢𝒶𝒾𝒶. 𝒪𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎.

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔, 𝓎𝑒𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌...𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈, "𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊". 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓈𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊,

'𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓃, 𝒟𝓎𝓁𝒶𝓃'.

𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒,

𝐿𝓎𝓇𝒶"

The next day, Lyra strode through the cobbled streets, her chin held high, the echoes of whispers and stares fading into insignificance. Her gait was light, her expression composed, as though the tales spun by idle tongues held no bearing on her. But just as she neared the palace gates, fate—or mischief—intervened.

Standing directly in her path, Karen and Hubris loomed like uninvited specters.

Karen's eyes, alight with venom, narrowed as she spat, "Well, well, if it isn't the audacious Lyra, the one who struck my dear mother. How utterly devoid of grace or propriety you must be."

Lyra's steps didn't falter. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, ignoring Karen entirely. This slight—deliberate and cutting—only stoked Karen's ire further.

"Turn your back on me, will you? The world will soon see you for what you truly are—a viper in disguise, slithering beneath a veneer of civility!"

Lyra's indifference was her weapon, but Karen, unwilling to concede defeat, seized a nearby stone and hurled it with feral rage. Before it could reach its mark, Hubris intervened, his hand catching the projectile mid-flight.

The sudden action made Lyra pause. She turned slightly, her poise unbroken, as Hubris, concern etched into his features, asked, "Are you unharmed?"

Lyra offered no reply, her silence laden with disdain as she resumed her walk.

Karen let out a bitter laugh. "See? That is the very woman you chose to shield—a heartless, insolent creature unworthy of your gallantry."

Hubris turned to Karen, his voice cool and measured. "It is not gallantry but decency. Something you might strive to embody, considering you not only shouted vile accusations but stooped to throwing stones."

Karen's face twisted with indignation. "Decency? She struck my mother! That despicable harlot deserves worse.

"Language, Karen," Hubris interjected, his tone steely.

"Language? You side with her against your own kin? Mother will hear of this, and rest assured, she will remind you where your loyalties ought to lie!"

With a dramatic stomp of her foot, Karen departed, leaving Hubris alone to stare in the direction Lyra had disappeared.

He hesitated only briefly before deciding to follow.

Lyra, already irked by the unpleasant encounter, felt his presence before she saw him. She stopped abruptly, pivoting to face him with a glare.

"What is it you want now?" she snapped.

Hubris faltered but held his ground. "I wished to apologize—for Karen, for the past, for everything."

"Done?" she asked curtly, her tone as cold as the winter breeze.

"Must you always be this unyielding?" he implored, his voice tinged with desperation. "I seek only a chance to make amends, to begin anew. I have severed ties with my family—you were right about them. They're toxic, and I want no part of it. In fact, I learned my name had already been struck from their records."

Lyra raised an unimpressed brow. "Am I meant to pity you? Or offer congratulations for a decision you claim was forced upon you?"

Hubris pressed on, undeterred. "I am not like them. You must believe that. I am not the man I was."

Lyra's lips curved into a faint, sardonic smile. "Perhaps not. But you remain cut from the same cloth—an upgraded model, perhaps, but the essence remains."

Her words struck a nerve. Hubris's face darkened with frustration. "I am nothing like them," he insisted, his voice low but firm.

Lyra tilted her head, her smile fading into something colder. "Then prove it—not to me, but to yourself. And pray we never meet again under circumstances that warrant another confrontation. I assure you, I won't stop at a slap next time."

Her parting words were a dagger wrapped in velvet, and as she turned and walked away, Hubris stood frozen, memories of their last encounter flooding back. The sting of her slap lingered, a sharp reminder of his misdeeds.

Long after she vanished from sight, her voice echoed in his mind:

"No matter how far you run from them, you'll always have their shadow. But tread carefully—cross me again, and you'll wish for nothing more than a shadow to hide in."

As Lyra returned to the palace, she was greeted with a chorus of admiration and respect from the newly hired staff. Their wide eyes and deferential bows were met with her warm smile.

"Please, rest and enjoy yourselves for now," she told them, her voice gracious yet commanding. With that, she continued down the grand halls, accompanied by Solon, Mika, and Jackson, until they reached Katherine's quarters.

Once settled, Lyra began recounting the recent developments to Katherine, who listened intently, her expression calm but her sharp mind clearly assessing every detail. When Lyra mentioned the members of her close team, Katherine's composure faltered.

"Viscount Vile, Count Jarvis, Duke Atlas, Duke Axel, and Viscount Edwin," Lyra listed.

Katherine's brow furrowed in surprise. "Edwin? What is he doing in your faction? I thought he was neutral."

Her voice carried the weight of history—a name that stirred emotions buried but not forgotten. Edwin had been more than just a name to her; he had been a steadfast companion through her most turbulent years, a time when she had lost her love, her title, and her identity as a princess.

Lyra tilted her head, her gaze steady. "He's always been part of my faction. Last night, while away, he received word from Duke Atlas and Duke Axel and sent a letter pledging his support. Is this a problem?"

Katherine hesitated, her tone softening. "No… it's just unexpected. He's always been off on some excavation, far removed from these affairs. I assumed he was neutral."

Lyra leaned forward slightly, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "He is still your friend, isn't he?"

Katherine looked away, her voice quieter now. "I left everything behind when I chose this life, Lyra. My title, my family, even my friends. I am no longer Princess Katherine. I am simply Kate."

Lyra reached for Katherine's hand, her touch gentle yet firm. "Whether you are Katherine or Kate, that is merely a name. You, in your essence, remain the same. Believe in yourself as I believe in you. You have strength yet untapped and purpose yet fulfilled."

Katherine's lips trembled into a faint smile, but her voice wavered. "I know I can handle it. It's just that… going back…"

"I promise you, Aunt," Lyra interjected with quiet conviction, "no one will trouble you. Everyone—my team, myself—will respect you, listen to you, and value your words. Please, give yourself another chance to accomplish something extraordinary."

Tears welled in Katherine's eyes as she nodded. "Fine," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Her agreement brought Lyra visible relief, though she remained poised. "You won't regret this. You've been given this chance for a reason, Aunt. Don't let the past dim your light."

As Katherine reflected, memories of her youth came rushing back. She could still see them: Edwin, Atlas, Axel, and herself—a quartet bound by camaraderie. The laughter, the shared dreams, the easy joy. And then, the heartbreak.

She had loved Jonathan, a commoner, with the fire of a thousand suns. But her brother, King Derek, saw only the political instability of such a union. He had forced her hand into an engagement with Duke Atlas, though the Duke himself had freed her by breaking it off, sparing her the stigma but not the suffocation.

When she walked away from the palace, she thought she had severed every tie. But Edwin had remained, a persistent thread in her life. Even when stationed at the border for years, he found his way back. She remembered their reunion vividly—unexpected, uninvited, yet strangely comforting.

He had walked into the flower shop where she worked, his presence as unyielding as ever. She had pretended not to know him, treating him as any other customer, though her act did little to fool him. With his usual charm, he teased and provoked her until the Katherine of old resurfaced, sparring back as they always had.

Every Thursday after that, he returned to purchase the same bouquet. She tried to uncover its recipient but never succeeded. It was through these small gestures that their friendship endured, the only remnant of her former life.

"Aunt?" Lyra's voice broke through Katherine's reverie, drawing her back to the present.

"What did you say?"

"I said you should come live in the palace with me. Please," Lyra repeated, her tone hopeful.

Katherine hesitated before shaking her head. "No."

"Why not?" Lyra pressed. "You're my advisor now, and as such, you have every right to stay at the palace. There's plenty of room."

"I will only step into that palace to stay once I have earned back my title," Katherine replied firmly. "Until then, let me remain here. The commute is manageable."

Lyra bit her lip, reluctant but understanding. "Fine," she conceded after a pause, "but I insist on assigning Frank and Oliver as your escorts. And you'll have a royal carriage for your travels. No arguments."

Katherine let out a soft laugh, her fondness for her niece shining through. "Deal. And thank you—for giving me this opportunity."

Lyra smiled, her gaze warm. "No, Aunt, thank you. You have always been my guiding star. Even as a child, I looked up to you, wondering how someone could shine so brightly. It was only later that I realized even stars have cracks. But don't worry—I will help you shine again, whole and unbroken. You deserve to be in the light once more."

Tears slipped down Katherine's cheeks as she embraced Lyra tightly, whispering words of gratitude. In her heart, she knew Lyra was right. The light she had once abandoned was now within reach, and this time, she would claim it fully.