“I’m being respectful.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She tugs my arm. “Come on. We’ve slept in a freakingcave, for God’s sake. This is practically luxury.”
I let her pull me further onto the bed. Settle with my back against the headboard, one leg stretched out, the other bent. Creating space without fully retreating.
Mara shifts closer. Not touching, but near. The bond sighs in my chest. Relief flooding through the damaged connection.
“Better?” she asks.
“Yes.”
We sit in silence. The room is quiet except for the distant hum of the facility’s ventilation. Mountain night pressing against the windows.
“Can I ask you something?” Mara’s voice is cautious.
“Yes.”
“What was she like? Lyria. The real her, not just… not just the person I remind you of or don’t remind you of. The ‘good witch’ everyone seems to idolize.”
The question catches me off guard.
Most people avoid mentioning Lyria. Dance around her absence.
But Mara asks directly. Wants to know.
“She was intelligent,” I say slowly. “A healer.” I pause. “Willing to make impossible decisions, even when the costs were high.”
“Were you happy? With her?”
“Yes. And no.” I consider how to explain. “She made me smile, for a while. Made the burden of rule feel lighter. But we were never… simple. Never just two people who loved each other.”
“Why not?” She looks at me.
“Because Lyria was a spy.” I surprise myself by admitting it.
Mara stiffens, blinks at me. “What?”
“She infiltrated my court with the intent to steal the Heartstone.” Saying the words aloud seems like a betrayal. But it’s also the truth.
“I don’t understand. If she was there to spy, how could she…? How could you…?” Mara shakes her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Because the heart wants what it wants.” I shrug. “And Lyria was never an evil person. She was coerced into what she did. Our enemy, Vaelric, had her brother. He threatened to harm him if she didn’t comply.”
“Shit.” Mara gnaws on her lip. “Shit… that’s freaking… heavy.”
“Heavy.” I nod. “Yes. That is a good word for it.”
“So, Lyria was never this paragon of virtue,” she muses.
“No.”
“But you forgave her.” She looks up at me.
“She was human. She had flaws. Just like the rest of us.” I feel a small pang as I recall the moment I learned of what she’d done. “But deep down, she was good. She cared… enough to die for what she’d done.”
“And that’s what you saw. Not just what she did.”
“Yes,” I acknowledge.
