It’s here, my mark, the part of me that is still Annora.
I hurry into a chemise, covering the flames. It doesn’t matter if my mark is here or not. I still don’t know how to use it. Mother never gave me my rune, and without it, I cannot cast magic.
Sadly, I’m one of the few who requires a rune to cast magic. Though, Mother has assured me I’m better off without my gifts.
I grab the first cotehardie I find in the armoire, pull it over my head, and yank the ribbons into place. My legs tremble as I leave the bedchamber, needing an escape, a refuge away from the confusion.
Nothing makes sense anymore.
Why am I trapped in Lyra’s body, yetmyflame is still on my hip? Everything else is her…
The hair. The skin. The eyes.
The question torments me as I hurry out of the palace and into the garden. Birds chirp in a wide willow tree as I walk through a courtyard full of marble statues and lush greenery. The soft rustling of leaves and the gentle murmur of the nearby fountain create a soothing lullaby. I take in the sunlight filtering through the maple trees and the statues depicting various figures from mythology and history.
As I turn, I spot something out of the corner of my eye—a stone bench tucked away in an alcove. A young woman sits on the bench with a book and a small tan dog. I recognize her as one of the young women in the courtyard the day before.
“Hello,” I say warmly.
She glances up, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Lyra, you have to read this book.”
She knows Lyra?
I should have known.
My footfalls echo against the stone path as I edge closer to her and tilt my head to the side to read the title. “I have. The poetry is some of the best I have ever read.”
The young woman arches an eyebrow. “You told me you never read.”
Lyra did?
Instead of replying, I sit on the bench and think about Lady Dinah’s ultimatum. This young woman cannot be any older than seventeen, yet the chieftain’s wife would force her to be with Jasce if I don’t give him an heir.
“Do you know about Lady Dinah's proclamation?” I ask, needing to know.
The woman lowers her book and stares at me for several long breaths before finding her voice. “Lady Dinah?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath.
“Are you feeling all right, Lyra?”
“No.” At least it’s an honest answer.
The young woman’s brow knits together as she speaks. “Every day I hide in this spot to escape my mother. You know this. So, why arewetalking about her?”
My eyes widen. “Your mother?”
Then, this must be Zerah, Jasce’s younger sister.
She presses her hand to my forehead. “No fever.” She tsks beneath her breath and shakes her head at me.
“I don’t understand. Sh-she said...”
“What did she say to you?”
When I stare down at my hands, she leans closer to me. “Lyra, what did she say?”
“She threatened me. Said if I don't give Jasce an heir within a summer, she would force other women to have his children,” I say, the words escaping me in a painful rush.
