Lyra's POV
My breath caught in my throat as I waited for her response. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire ready to snap.
The room fell into an oppressive quiet after my words.
Something flickered across Rowena's expression. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but I caught the hint of amusement dancing at the corners of her mouth. Why she would find this situation entertaining was beyond me. This was deadly serious. Yet there she was, releasing a quiet chuckle that held neither mockery nor warmth.
"Benedict mentioned you harbored some resentment toward him."
My teeth ground together involuntarily. Naturally, he had beaten me to the punch. He was always calculating several moves ahead, preparing the battlefield so that when people like me arrived to voice concerns, the foundation had already been poisoned against us.
Rowena's fingers found mine once more, her touch radiating warmth and comfort. The kind of gentle contact designed to calm frayed nerves.
