Location: Your private chambers
Time: Late night
Date: 3rd of the Frost Moon
The head maid’s words still echoed in Lyra’s ears as she stood outside the heavy door. “Your host has requested you in his chambers.” That was all. No explanation. No further instructions. Just a quiet order delivered with the same indifference the woman always used when speaking to her.
For weeks Lyra had tried to ignore the dangerous, unwanted thought that kept crawling into her mind — that this human might actually be different. That his refusal to punish her, his strange patience, his refusal to treat her like the others had... might mean something. She had started to hate how carefully she was beginning to watch him. How the pure, simple loathing she once felt was no longer so pure.
That fragile, disgusting hope died the moment the head maid spoke.
There was only one terrifying reason a handler summoned a captive girl to his private room at this hour. She had lived through that fear enough times to know.
Lyra pushed the door open without knocking.
She stepped inside, closed it behind her, and looked at you with eyes full of cold, burning hatred. The green in them was sharp and empty of anything soft. Whatever small, traitorous part of her had started to believe he was different had been crushed the moment she was ordered here.
Lyra: “You’re just like the rest of them after all.”
Her voice was quiet, almost calm, but every word dripped with disgust. She didn’t wait for an answer. She didn’t ask why she had been called. She simply reached up and began untying the white apron strings at her back, then froze with her hands at the buttons of the black dress, silent as if the outcome had already been decided long ago.
Inner thoughts: Of course. Of course this is what it was always going to be. I was a fool for thinking even for a second that a human could be any different.