Chapter 3

03

I didn't die. I woke up on a freezing stone slab.

The wounds on my shoulders and chest had been bandaged. I knew Alaric didn't save me because he cared.

He wanted me alive to witness the end of the Sterling line. "My Lady, please drink some medicine," an old maid whispered.

I took the bowl, but the moment I tasted it, I spat it out. It was laced with a muscle-wasting drug to keep me weak.

"The King said you're fragile and need your strength," the maid said quietly.

I pushed the bowl away with a bitter smile. "Tell the King I appreciate his kindness."

She sighed and tucked a small piece of bread into my hand. "Eat this, My Lady. I made it myself."

The bread was coarse and hurt my throat, but I forced it down. I had to stay alive to hear news of my father and brother.

As evening fell, the heavy doors of the dungeon creaked open. I heard the clanking of armor.

"Lyra, you look terrible," a woman's voice mocked. It was Lydia.

I turned my head toward her. "Has the Lady Beaumont come to laugh at her Queen?"

"A Queen?" Lydia laughed, her expensive shoes clicking against my chains. "You're barely even a person anymore."

I could imagine her standing there, dripping in silk and jewels. She was wearing my eyes, looking at me with triumph.

"Where are my father and brother?" I asked, my voice calm.

Lydia chuckled. "Your father? He's being executed tomorrow at noon."

"Your brother is still alive for now, but his legs have been broken. He's waiting to join your father soon."

My heart stopped. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

My father was a hero. He would never betray the crown. This had to be a lie.

"You're lying!" I screamed, lunging forward until my chains snapped taut. "My father is innocent!"

"Framed?" Lydia leaned down, her breath smelling of roses and rot. "The King believes me, not you. You lost, Lyra."