Chapter 89: The Cost of Speaking
Lyria's POV
"Kyia," Jacinta said lightly, her voice carrying a dangerous amusement, "did you hear what she just said?"
"I did, Your Highness."
Kyia's voice came at once—smooth, eager, and far too pleased for my liking.
I did not need to look at her to know the expression she wore. I had seen it too many times before—that thinly veiled satisfaction, the quiet delight she took in moments such as this.
"It would appear," Kyia continued, her tone sweetened with false concern, "that the demon must learn her position once more."
Demon.
My fingers curled tightly into my palms, but I said nothing.
Jacinta's lips curved.
"Yes," she said softly, her gaze on me. "It would seem so."
I hated this.
I hated standing here and saying nothing while Kyia called me a demon and Jacinta smiled in delight.
I hated Jacinta.
