Lyria stared at her mother.
For a second she honestly thought the whole shrine had gone insane.
The stone around them was cracking. Dust was falling from the ceiling. Kael stood at her side, half shifted and ready to tear something apart. Mira had a sword in one hand. Ronan was still in the room, tense and pale. The keeper stayed chained to the wall. Her father was still behind the bars, looking far too calm for a man who had just dropped a bomb in the middle of everything.
And her mother had just said, plain as day, that the person who sold her was not her father.
Lyria heard herself ask, "What do you mean?"
Her mother looked at her for one long second. Then she said it.
"It was me."
Nobody moved.
That landed so hard the room went silent for half a beat, even with the stone still shaking overhead.
Lyria blinked. "No. No, that's not funny."
"It's not a joke," her mother said.
Kael's hand tightened on Lyria's back. "Say that again."
