Chapter 79 - Seventy-Nine: Lyra

Chapter 79: Chapter Seventy-Nine: Lyra

[Noel? N-O-E-L? Buddy? Can you hear me?]

A strange voice spoke to me, yet... I didn’t know who it belonged to.

[Oh no... Oh no, no, no... Fuck, that succubus bitch really messed with your mind badly, huh?]

"...?"

What?

[Pixia and Fenra? Do you remember them? They’re waiting for you at home.]

Pixia and...?

My head started to hurt.

[Shit, shit, shit... I didn’t think a strong user of charm magic still existed on this scale in this era...]

Charm... what?

[Whatever. I’ll figure this out, but before that, under any condition, do not--]

◇◇◇

It had been... what, two weeks? Time blurred in the beastkin pens. It was a cycle of sweat, musk, and muffled screams in various registers. I’d serviced the demanding lamia (ten gold, and a soreness in my ribs that lasted days), broken in the fierce lynx-girl (four gold, and claw marks I was proud of), and a rotating cast of others. My coin purse was heavy. My body ran on a strange, supernatural stamina I’d stopped questioning.

This morning, I woke feeling off. Not tired. Just... hollow. A nagging sense that I was forgetting something crucial, a piece of myself misplaced in the red fog of perpetual rut. I shrugged it off. Another breakfast, another day of labor.

◇◇◇

I wandered into the main dining hall, the one they’d repaired after my ’incident’ with Rina. The air smelled of fresh-baked bread and expensive tea.

Then I saw her.

Vesper was at the head of the table, sipping from a porcelain cup. And across from her sat a girl.

She was beautiful. Not in Vesper’s sharp, dangerous way, or Rina’s overwhelming, fertile abundance. This was a different kind. Hair like spun moonlight, so pale it was almost silver, falling in a perfect, straight sheet down her back. Her eyes, when she glanced up from her plate, were the same luminous silver, large and giving her an air of ethereal fragility. She wore a simple but obviously costly dress of dove grey, and she ate with small, delicate bites.

Lyra Lysander.

My footsteps faltered for a second. This was the ’spare’? The one with the spicy rumors?

Vesper’s head snapped up. Her heterochromatic eyes locked onto me, and a complex flash of emotions crossed her face... annoyance, a flicker of something like worry, and then her default disdain. "Your meal is served in the west antechamber today, Noel," she said, her voice crisp, her eyebrows lifted in a clear command. Get out.

I ignored it. A slow, easy smile spread across my face. The hollow feeling vanished, replaced by a sharp, curious interest. "I thought I’d join you for a change~" I said, my gaze sliding from Vesper’s tense face to Dorian’s sister.

Lyra looked up fully, her silver eyes meeting mine. There was no shock, no maidenly blush. Just a calm, unnervingly direct assessment. She held my gaze for a heartbeat too long, then a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips before she looked back down at her plate, taking another delicate sip of tea.

The silence in the dining hall was thick enough to chew. Vesper was staring daggers at me. Lyra simply looked between us, that faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Ufufu~" she finally said, the sound light and melodic. "I’ve heard a lot about you, Noel."

Her voice was soft, almost childlike, but it carried perfectly across the polished table. Her silver eyes held mine, unblinking. "You’re quite the topic at the academy, from what I hear. The... how do they put it... ’Academy Whore’? The ’commoner boy-toy’?" She tilted her head, the silver hair sliding over her shoulder. "My brother seems to find you particularly... vexing."

I kept my smile easy, leaning back in my chair. "Heard all that from Dorian?"

"From Dorian~" she confirmed, mirroring my tone. She took another sip of tea. "He talks about his... rivals... with such passion. It’s almost endearing. He says you don’t know your place. That you have no respect for the natural order of things." Her gaze drifted briefly to Vesper, then back to me. "I did wonder what you were doing here, in my future sister’s home. I didn’t realize you two were... acquainted."

It was a polite, pointed question wrapped in a veneer of innocent curiosity.

Vesper’s posture went rigid. "He is a contracted asset for estate... beastkins maintenance," she interjected, her voice tight. "Nothing more. A temporary, specialized employee."

Lyra’s smile widened a fraction. "Oh? ’Specialized.’ What a fascinating word." She tapped a finger against her chin. "The manor certainly looks... well-maintained. The staff seem very... content."

Before Vesper could formulate a cutting response, Lyra turned her full, unsettling attention back to me. "So, what’s your secret, Noel? Why does my perfect, polished brother find a mere commoner so... bothersome? Is it just because you fuck anything that moves?" She asked it with the same air as asking about the weather.

I shrugged. "Maybe he’s jealous of my busy schedule."

Lyra let out a genuine, tinkling laugh. It was a beautiful sound. "Perhaps! Or maybe..." Her silver eyes gleamed with mischief. "Maybe he suspects something else. Something between you and his lovely fiancée here~?"

Vesper’s face went from pale to flushed in an instant. "Don’t be ridiculous!" she snapped, her composure cracking. "I would never--! I am promised to Dorian! My loyalty is to him and our alliance!"

Lyra watched Vesper’s flustered denial with evident enjoyment. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Just kidding~!" she sang, her voice sweet. "You’re so serious, Vesper. I was merely teasing. My brother is, after all, the pinnacle. What woman with eyes in her head would look elsewhere?" She took a final bite of her pastry, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer, the playful mask slipping just enough to let a sliver of something much colder and more curious show through, before she wiped her mouth demurely with a napkin.

The tension didn’t break so much as it... changed shape. Lyra’s teasing had put a crack in the formal atmosphere, and she seemed content to widen it, carefully.

"Oh, but truly," she said, turning her full, silvery attention back to me, her head tilted again. "I am curious. The academy does talk. They say you have... particular tastes. That you don’t discriminate by species. Is that true? Or is that just jealous nobles spinning tales?"

It was a lewd question disguised as idle gossip.

I met her gaze. "I find discrimination is bad for business."

Everyone was a walking SP points to me.

"Ufufu~ Practical!" She twirled a strand of silver hair around her finger. "My brother would say it’s ’lacking in propriety.’ But then, my brother has so many rules. It must be... exhausting." She sighed theatrically. "Doesn’t it get exhausting, Vesper? Having to be so perfect all the time for him?"

Vesper, who was watching this exchange like a hawk waiting for a mouse to make the wrong move, gave a curt, icy response. "Devotion is not a burden."

"How noble," Lyra said, her tone suggesting the opposite. Her eyes flicked back to me. "And you? Do you have... devotion? Or just desire?"

It was a blatant, flirty challenge. She was poking the bear, seeing how I’d react, testing the boundaries Vesper had just tried to enforce.

"I’m devoted to my work," I replied, letting my smile turn a little sharper. "And my work requires a lot of desire."

She laughed again, that light, musical sound. "I can imagine! All that... estate maintenance." She said the words with a deliberate, knowing lilt that made Vesper’s knuckles whiten around her teacup. "Tell me, do you get along with all of Vesper’s... staff? The specialized ones?"

"We have an understanding," I said.

"An understanding." Lyra savored the word. "How diplomatic." She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret, though the room was empty but for the three of us. "And are they as... enthusiastic as the rumors say? I hear the beastkin can be quite... wild."

"Lyra," Vesper cut in, her voice a warning blade. "That is hardly appropriate breakfast conversation."

"Is it not?" Lyra leaned back, feigning innocence. "My apologies. It’s just so much more interesting than discussing the weather or trade tariffs." She gave me one last, lingering look, her silver eyes dancing. "Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around the estate, Noel. I’m here for a little while. Perhaps you can give me a... tour of the grounds someday."

It was an open-ended, dangerous invitation. Then, with a final, sweet smile to a silently fuming Vesper, she rose from the table. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast, sister. I think I’ll go settle into my rooms."

She glided out, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.

◇◇◇

Vesper waited until the door clicked shut. Then she turned her full, furious attention on me. "You," she hissed, "will stay away from her."

I just finished my glass of juice. "She seems friendly."

"She is poison wrapped in silk," Vesper spat. "She is Dorian’s. In every sense that matters. Touch her, look at her with that fucking hungry look, and our deal is null. I will have you skinned and fed to the drake-kin. Are we clear?"

I met her furious heterochromatic gaze. "Crystal."

But inside, the image of those luminous silver eyes and that playful, daring smile was already burning itself into my memory, right next to the unfulfilled promise of Vesper’s asshole. The mansion had just gotten infinitely more complicated. And infinitely more interesting.