Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.
Her hands kept moving out of habit, finishing one task after another, but her thoughts stayed stuck on the same moment—the burn, the blood, the way the skin had started to close.
That wasn't normal.
She glanced at her finger again. The cut was still there, faint but real. It hadn't changed at all.
But the other woman's injury had.
A quiet unease settled in her chest, heavier the longer she thought about it.
"What was that…?" she murmured.
The kitchen didn't answer. It never did. It just carried on—voices, footsteps, metal against wood, everything moving as if nothing had happened.
At first, nothing seemed different.
Then the small things started to stand out.
A servant reached for the same tray as her, then hesitated.
"Give it here," Lyra said, holding it out.
"I've got it," the girl replied too quickly, avoiding her eyes.
Lyra paused, then let go. "…Alright."
Someone else passed behind her, leaving more space than necessary.
It kept happening in little ways, easy to miss if she wasn't paying attention.
She was.
The whispers came not long after.
"She touched it, didn't she?"
"I saw it. The burn—"
"Don't get involved."
Lyra kept her head down, pretending she couldn't hear.
This wasn't the same as before.
Before, they looked down on her.
Now… they didn't seem sure what she was.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table.
This isn't good.
Attention never helped anyone like her.
Even Head Maid Elira said nothing, watching from a distance without stepping in. That silence felt intentional, like she was waiting to see where this would go.
Lyra forced herself to keep moving.
Work. Don't react.
But the feeling of being watched didn't fade.
If anything, it grew sharper.
From the corridor beyond the kitchen, someone stood partly hidden in shadow, his attention fixed on her.
There was nothing casual about it.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
What he had seen earlier wasn't something he could ignore.
A half-blood with that kind of ability shouldn't exist.
And yet—
He stepped back quietly, disappearing before anyone noticed.
The decision was already made.
She would be watched.
Inside, Lyra carried another bucket, slower now, more aware of every movement. Not because of the weight.
Because of the silence around her.
No one spoke to her unless they had to. No one stood too close.
She didn't know exactly what they were thinking, but she could feel it in the way they looked at her.
Not just disgust anymore.
Something else.
By the time her work ended, the sky outside had darkened.
The kitchen quieted, the rush fading into cleanup.
Lyra slipped out through the side corridor, the cold air hitting her face as soon as she stepped outside.
It helped, a little.
She leaned back against the stone wall, closing her eyes briefly.
Too much had happened in one day.
The dream.
The vision.
The blood.
And now this.
"…I need to be careful," she whispered.
Whatever this was, she couldn't hide it forever.
But she had to try.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Lyra straightened immediately, stepping aside out of instinct.
She didn't look up right away.
She didn't need to.
The air shifted.
When she finally raised her gaze—
It was him.
He stood a few steps away, closer than before, completely still, as if he had been there longer than she realized.
Lyra lowered her head quickly. "Sorry."
She moved to pass him.
But something made her hesitate.
His gaze stayed on her.
Longer than it should have.
Steady enough to make her chest tighten.
Did he remember?
No.
He shouldn't care.
And yet—
It didn't feel that simple.
Kael didn't move.
He watched her quietly, his attention sharper now.
Up close, the details stood out more—the way she held herself, careful, controlled, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
And still, something about her didn't sit right.
He couldn't explain it.
Didn't like that he noticed it at all.
"You," he said.
Lyra froze.
Her breath caught before she could steady it.
She turned slightly. "…Yes?"
Her voice came out softer than she intended.
Kael studied her for a moment, as if trying to place something just out of reach.
Then he looked away.
"Nothing."
The word ended it.
Lyra blinked, confused. "…Okay."
She didn't stay.
Didn't risk it.
She walked past him, keeping her steps even until she turned the corner.
Only then did she let out a slow breath.
Behind her, Kael remained where he stood.
The feeling returned, stronger now.
Not irritation.
Something else.
Subtle, but persistent.
His gaze shifted toward the corridor she had taken.
He didn't follow.
But he didn't look away either.
"…Strange," he murmured.
The word felt incomplete.
Because whatever this was—
It wasn't fading.
And for the first time in a long while,
He wanted to understand it.