Chapter 3

Lyra

I felt like I could finally breathe the moment I managed to get away from the oppressive crowd.

The clinking of glasses, the fake laughter, and the continuous chatter were muffled by the closing of the ballroom doors behind me.

I leaned my head back and leaned against the chilly marble wall, allowing the cool air to caress my skin.

I had no idea how long I had been in there, grinning and nodding like a broken doll as strangers caressed my arms, gave me hugs, and mumbled strange things.

"Oh, you've made it a long way!" "You look exactly like your mother." "Dear, we have missed you." Did you miss me? I wasn't even known to them.

For as long as I could remember, I was alone, and now all of a sudden, I was theirs? To this strong, unbreakable family? After escaping two guards, I walked into the huge stone balcony outside.

I felt anything real for the first time tonight, and the night air was sharp.

I closed my eyes and took a long breath. The huge estate was bathed in a silver glow as the moon shone brightly and low.

The perfectly kept trees and marble statues were both scary and lovely in its light.

I gave a quiet smile. Even on the darkest evenings at the orphanage, the moon had always provided me with peace.

Unconsciously, I ran my fingertips down the chilly railing.

Why now? Why did they decide I was real all of a sudden? Why did they appear on the day I got kicked out from the orphanage, after all these years of being treated like baggage? discovered me, no less, by the side of the road.

I scowled. Too easy. "Is this what it feels like to be rich?" To myself, I whispered. "To be… royal or something?"

Beside me, in the tall glass window, I saw my reflection.

I didn't recognize the girl staring back for a second.

My face was framed by lovely curls of blonde hair that was curled into a sophisticated updo.

Under layers of makeup, my lips were stained a beautiful shade of rose, and my skin looked perfect.

Also, the dress The silver artwork stood out dimly in the moonlight as the navy-blue silk embraced every inch of me. I didn't look like Lyra. Not the Lyra with the baggy jackets and old trousers.

"thinking?"

I jumped when I heard the deep voice behind me, and before I could stop it, a little shriek came out.

With my heart racing, I whirled around. And there he was. Whitethorn, Duke.

He was something different totally up close.

Tall, wider than I thought, and wearing a pricey, well fitting black suit.

The collar of the white shirt below was sharp. It worked for him, even though his dark hair was a little disheveled as if he hadn't bothered to straighten it.

But what caught my eye was the scar. Just below his eye, a deep, jagged mark sliced across his left face.

He shouldn't have appeared dangerous because of that.

It had a disturbing beauty of its own. Nevertheless, it was evident from his mysterious, icy gaze that he loved it.

"I apologize," I whispered softly, cocking my head to the side.

"Do we know each other?" He took a while to respond. His eyes were dark and contemplative as he gazed at me, and then he shook his head slightly.

"I’m Duke," he replied simply, in a steady, low voice. As if I was unaware of it beforehand.

I started to introduce myself but stopped. Correct.

My name had already been revealed to the world by Father. Still, I muttered, "Lyra," more to myself than to him.

He didn't even move his lips. There was silence between us.

But it wasn't awkward. It weighed a lot. The weight of his presence was bigger than the touch of strangers in the room.

His voice was velvety but sharp, and he questioned, "Do you always sneak away from parties?"

The question caught me off guard, and I blinked. "Only when they’re suffocating."

His huff came close to being a silent laugh, but it fell short of his eyes.

"I don't hold you responsible. Parties in the Richelieu aren't exactly... friendly.

I looked at him with a tiny turn of my head.

"You speak like you’ve been to many." His eyes got caught somewhat. "More than I’d like."

I glanced back at the colorful ballroom as I rested on the stone railing once more.

"I don't know anything about them, but everyone appears to know me. or this household. They seem to be expecting me to simply blend in. Duke took a while to reply.

"You won’t." He was direct without being mean. I scowled.

"Excuse me?" "You won't blend in. Not with them. He cocked his head in the direction of the ballroom.

"They’ll smile to your face, toast to your return, but behind closed doors?"

He returned his icy stare to me.

"They’ll rip you apart." I felt cold.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked thoughtfully.

He didn't respond. Instead, with a slight smirk curving at the corner of his mouth, he took a step closer.

"Because it’s amusing watching a lamb walk into a den of wolves." I tensed up.

He fixed me with his dark eyes. "A wolf that doesn’t pretend to be anything else." We were silent for a time.

The silence was then broken by him. "Be careful, Lyra." He lowered his voice to a warning-like level. "Not everyone here wants you to succeed."

Before I could ask what he meant, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.

I was left standing by myself in the dim moonlight.

And tonight, for the first time, I wasn't sure if the chill I experienced was caused by the air or by his words hanging in the air.

Also what's with the attitude he gave? I literally just said I didn't want this life.

Rolling my eyes I decided to go back inside before dad start looking for me