Lyle
Dayanara found me that night on the nursery balcony, where I’d gone to breathe the cool night air.
“Your mother put the fear of every god into Corven,” she said, leaning on the rail beside me. “I almost applauded. I’ve wanted to set him on fire since the council.”
“Don’t set the nobles on fire, Nara. We’re short on nobles.”
“We’re short on good ones.” She bumped her shoulder into mine, and we stood there a while in the quiet we’d earned over the years. Then I asked her the thing that had been sitting under my ribs since the night the world broke.
“Nara. The thing that took Lyra.” I kept my eyes on the dark gardens. “Could Angelica have a hand in it?”
She was quiet a beat too long.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. And from Dayanara, who has an answer for everything, the not-kno
