"Servants see everything. The smart nobles remember that. The rest learn the hard way."
***
Lyra read the letter twice.
Something cold and sharp formed in her chest. An emotion she couldn't quite name. Rage and sorrow mixed together, bitter on her tongue.
Rhys needed twenty silver pieces every month for his sister's medicine alone. More than triple his basic academy allowance. No wonder his clothes were patched until they resembled quilts more than proper garments.
Meanwhile, according to the kitchen gossip she'd gathered earlier in the week, Vance Thorne had gambled away more than thirty silver in a single evening of cards. Laughing about his losses while complaining that the imported wine wasn't quite to his refined tastes.
Thirty silver pieces. Enough to buy Elara Blackwood more than three months of life. Wagered and lost on a single night's entertainment by a young man who would never know what it felt like to choose between medicine and food.
