I shake my head, slowly taking a few steps back in the hallway.
She leans forward, trying to reach for me again. “It wasn’t your fault, Lyra. I know you two had a quarrel last night, but you can’t put the blame on yourself.”
“I have to go speak with Cyrus,” I mutter and turn away. First, I take a few steps. Then I’m striding. Finding the sense of urgency hot on my heels.
“Lyra!” Aelia calls in the hall. “Lyra!”
I turn a corner away from the library, but she doesn’t follow. I gather my skirts in my hands, quickening my pace without full-on running. As I take a few more turns in the castle I pass the dining room and head toward my room. I’m three hallways away when a door down to my left creaks open. Jerking to a halt, then ducking quickly behind a curtain, I hold my breath as a familiar voice drifts down the hall.
“Cyrus, you can’t blame yourself for these things,” Devin’s voice is soft, pitiful.
“Then whoshouldI blame?” Cyrus tosses back, his voice rough and raspy as if he’s come down with something.
Using my fingers to gently pull the curtain back a few inches, I peek one eye out across the hall at the open door.
Cyrus has his hand wrapped around the handle, the door halfway open and revealing some sort of room furnished with chairs, rugs, a desk, and bookshelves.
Farther in the room, Devin shakes his head. “Perhaps there is no one to blame.”
“There’salwayssomeone to blame,” Cyrus grumbles back, taking a step like he’s about to leave the room.
“Stop, Cyrus. If you keep doing this—if you keep beating yourself up, we willneversucceed.”
Cyrus drops his hand from the handle and turns to face Devin, his back now to me. “And so what do you propose I do then, hmm?”
Devin’s face tightens into something serious. Flicking his gaze up and down Cyrus, he whispers barely enough for me to hear, “Send her home.”
Cyrus’ hands clench into fists. “You know that’s not an option.”
“Look at yourself. You’re falling apart and risking everything we’ve worked for! And everything the people who came before me worked for!”
“Stop talking, Devin,” Cyrus growls, beginning to turn his back to him as he drops his head. Jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut.
“You need to hear the truth, Cyrus! What you’re doing is foolish. You can’t throw everything away for someone who doesn’t feel the same about you. Who isn’t worthy of you and what you offer. There are plenty of other women here who would be a dream for you if you only?—”
Cyrus whips around. “Not forme.You’ve picked them all based on who will satisfy it!”
It?I swallow. My head pounds at the vague word. A steady thrum of pulsing threatens to drown out their conversation.
Devin holds his gaze for a long while. “And yet, I found you pressing Lyra to a marble column weeks ago.” He begins to stalk around the office with his hands behind his back, eyes never leaving Cyrus. “Your lips on hers, hands in her hair.”
My heart races in my chest at the mention of me. I’m holding my breath hoping for an answer to a question I don’t know. Devin stops near the door, his golden-armored back now to me. Cyrus is still standing in the middle of the room, head low and back to us. He hasn’t moved since Devin started talking.
“Your judgement is clouded and you’re confused. So, as your General and as your friend, I’ll dismiss her immediately.” Devin turns and takes a single step to the open door.
Quick as a shot of lightning, Cyrus is holding Devin up against the wall near the door by the throat. Devin’s boots kick out in surprise, his hands flying to Cyrus’ arm.
When Cyrus leans into him, he whispers something through his teeth I can’t hear. But his eyes are a force to be reckoned with. Hard and sharp, digging into Devin like that’ll be the thing that ends his life and not the lack of oxygen in his lungs.
Then something changes in him. Like the snap of a finger, the sinister look in his face switches to something else.
Shock.
Fear.
“I-I’m so…” Cyrus shakes his head, dropping Devin to the ground.
Devin rubs a hand on his throat and begins to back up out of the door. Never turning his eyes off him.
