The heavy doors of the High Court creaked behind Lyra as she stepped into the corridor, her shoulders still carrying the weight of the judgment passed moments ago. The hem of her dress whispered against the polished stone floor as she strode toward her chambers.
A hush fell over the hallway.
Servants lining the corridor froze mid-conversation. The faint gossamer threads of rumor and scandal they engaged with had dissolved into stiff silence. Maids who had been giggling moments before now lowered their gazes and straightened their backs with forced reverence.
Lyra's eyes narrowed.
She didn't stop walking, but her senses sharpened. She could smell the tension in the air tainted with fear and something worse.
As she passed them, their silence screamed louder than their words ever could.
Her wolf stirred beneath her skin restless. Something was brewing... and the whispers were only the beginning.
Once in her chamber, she closed the door behind her, stealthing with rage.
