Lyra's POV
Celeste's weary gaze shifted between Silas and me, settling on my face with a lingering intensity. Exhaustion carved deep lines around her eyes, and loose strands escaped from her hastily pulled-back hair. Dark shadows pooled beneath her bloodshot eyes like bruises.
"You're probably the reason I'm not rotting in a cell right now," she said, her voice hoarse.
I started to speak, but she continued before I could get a word out.
"Thank you." The words came thick with unshed tears. "I was certain today would be my last. I thought Kaelen would have us both executed. Given his reputation."
My throat tightened. I needed to redirect this conversation away from the dangerous territory we were treading.
"How is the Grand Luna?" I asked, focusing on what truly mattered.
Celeste's composure cracked. Her hands twisted together until her knuckles turned bone white, and she stared down at them as if they held answers.
"It's bad," she whispered.
