Chapter 3

I leaned against the cool stone of the hallway, trying to process the poison flooding my mind.

Their conversation continued, each word another blow.

"She' s so broken now, Father," Kael said, a note I couldn't quite place in his voice. Was it pity? Or something else?

"It' s almost pitiful. Still, I sometimes see her looking at me, and I wonder if she suspects."

Then Kael's voice changed, laced with a sneer I' d never heard from him, not directed at me.

"Honestly, Father, it's embarrassing sometimes. Having that shattered relic my father keeps around. Everyone remembers her disgrace."

Shattered relic.

That' s what my son thought of me.

My Kael.

Malakor sighed. "She serves her purpose, Kael. Her presence lends stability, for now. Which brings me to Lyra."

Lyra again. Always Lyra.

"I intend to install Lyra as the new Guardian of the Veil," Malakor announced.

My breath hitched. Lyra? Guardian? The position of my ancestors?

"It' s a bold move," Kael said, sounding impressed. "Some will object, given Mother's... history, and her lineage for the role."

"Precisely," Malakor replied smoothly. "Which is why Seraphina must attend Lyra' s investiture ceremony. Her presence will lend it legitimacy. It will silence any dissenters who might question Lyra' s suitability. She will publicly endorse Lyra, in a manner of speaking, just by being there, by my side."

He was going to use me. Use my brokenness, my supposed disgrace, to elevate the woman who, with my own son, had destroyed me.

The pain was a physical thing, twisting in my gut.

They weren't just betrayers, they were puppeteers, and I had been their willing marionette, dancing on the strings of my own manufactured guilt and their false love.

The refreshments I held suddenly felt like lead.

I turned and walked away, silent as a ghost.

They would not see me cry. Not yet.