Nesrin’s men readied themselves. Lyra stood frozen, watching them change formation around her and their leader. Everyone moved near silently, surprising Lyra further.
Nesrin grabbed her arm, turning Lyra to face her. A scowl pulled at her hard features. “That dress may prove problematic.”
Lyra looked down at herself. She still wore the white-and-gold draped gown that Merrow had provided her with that morning. It was soiled now, red and brown stains soiling the skirts. Lyra had long since cared about the clothes that had covered her body. The choice had been taken from her so long ago that it hadn’t occurred to her she should ask for something different. “I’m not staying outside,” she declared.
Nesrin rolled her eyes. “We’re past that now. It would be more dangerous to leave you in the
