Chapter 4

Rhea

They moved me into the eastern wing.

Gold fixtures. A bed big enough to drown in. Walls I couldn't touch without flinching.

Too clean. Too silent. Too soft.

Everything felt like it had been bought with someone else's blood. Maybe mine.

I didn't sleep. I stared at the ceiling and thought of the girl I'd been yesterday—

Invisible. Quiet. Passed over.

That girl was dead now. The Moon killed her.

I woke to silence and silk sheets that smelled like foreign hands. My fingers curled into the fabric like I was bracing for it to vanish.

By morning, a schedule waited on gold-trimmed paper. Dress fittings. Courtship rules. Guard rotations.

I was a relic now. An ornament with teeth.

Servants didn't look me in the eye anymore. They bowed. Stepped back. Called me "miss." I hated it.

The warmth I once knew in the kitchens was gone. Replaced by a hush that followed me like a second shadow. Reverence. Fear. Or worse—pity.

I tried to eat that morning. The food was perfect. Everything else wasn't.

I wanted the floor under my feet to creak. I wanted chipped plates. I wanted to feel human again.

Lucian visited first.

Dark clothes. Straight posture. His eyes are unreadable.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, not sitting.

I shook my head.

He stayed anyway. Fifteen minutes. Quiet.

He didn't look at me like I was fragile. Or dangerous. Just… blank. Like none of this mattered.

When he left, the room felt colder.

I wrapped myself in a throw I didn't want and sat in a chair too big for me. I couldn't tell if I was being honored or buried.

And then—voices down the hall. Laughter.

A door swung open.

Dorian.

No knock. Just him, loud as ever, flopping onto my couch like he owned it.

"So," he said, tossing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth. "Which of us do you like best so far?"

I didn't answer.

He winked like that was all the answer he needed.

I hated him in that moment. For how easy it was for him. For how light everything seemed when I could barely stand the weight of my name.

Cassian didn't come.

Days passed.

I was paraded before council members, offered gowns, and questioned gently. I smiled when I had to. I nodded when expected. I didn't speak unless spoken to.

I was never alone. I was never free.

Until one evening.

The library.

No guards.

Just books. Moonlight.

And quiet that didn't press down on my lungs.

Almost peace.

Almost.

I shouldn't have come here. But I didn't want to be seen. I wanted to vanish.

Then I saw him.

Cassian.

Alone. Half-hidden. Backlit by shadow.

He looked like a statue someone forgot to worship.

I stopped walking.

He didn't.

"You follow me now?" he said, voice low, flat.

"No," I said. "I just wanted—"

"To what?" His eyes were already cold. "Pretend like we're something we're not?"

The air changed.

He stepped closer. Every line in his body was drawn tight.

"I hate you," he said.

The words hit. Clean. Cruel.

"I wish you'd disappear. I wish they'd never brought you here. You ruin everything."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

His gaze didn't budge.

"I belong to Lyra," he said. "She's the only one for me. Always has been."

I tried to look away.

He didn't let me.

"You think you matter to me?" he said. "You're just a mistake Lyra couldn't fix."

I didn't breathe.

His next words broke lower. Meaner.

"If she'd just left you in the gutter where you belonged, none of this would've happened."

And then he turned.

Walked past me. Shoulders stiff. Back straight.

His eyes caught mine for half a second—

And the hatred there burned.

Not the kind that fades. The kind that scars.

I didn't call after him.

Didn't cry.

I just stood there.

Like silence could protect me.

But it didn't.

It never did.

Silence pressed in.

Books. Dust. Moonlight. That was all.

Until I heard it—

A laugh.

Sharp. Cruel. Familiar.

I didn't turn.

I didn't need to.

Mira stepped into the library like it was hers. Chin high. Smile mean.

"Poor little Rhea," she said. "Still trying to fit into shoes that were never made for you."

I didn't speak.

She didn't stop.

"I saw him, you know. Cassian." She walked closer. "He looked at you like you were dirt. And you just stood there. Pathetic."

I clenched my fists.

She circled. Slow. Enjoying it.

"That's what Lyra gets," she said. "For dragging a pest from the slums and pretending it was worth something."

My jaw tightened.

"Do you know what people are saying?" Mira leaned in, eyes glittering. "That the girl Lyra tried to save is the one who took everything from her. That you are the reason Lyra isn't standing where she belongs."

I flinched.

That was enough for her.

She smiled wider.

"If she'd thrown you away, none of this would've happened."

She turned to leave. Tossed her final words over her shoulder.

"She was always too soft."

Then she was gone.

The air felt heavier without her in it.

I sat down in the far corner, knees pulled tight.

The Moon had made me something else.

But it hadn't made me enough.

Not for Cassian.

Not for Lyra.

Not for anyone.

The door shut.

Silence fell again.

But it wasn't the same. It was colder now. Sharper.

I stayed curled in the corner, hands clenched into the fabric of my skirt, breathing through the sting Mira left behind.

She wasn't wrong.

That was the worst part.

I had taken everything. Lyra's position. Her courtship. Her future. I'd stepped into it like a thief in silk, dressed up in someone else's fate.

No one said it aloud, but I saw it in their eyes. Heard it in the too-polite words. The soft questions. The way they all looked just past me like they were still waiting for the real one to arrive.

Lyra should've been here.

Not me.

Cassian had made that clear. His voice still rang in my ears. Cold. Final. "I wish you'd disappear."

He meant it.

I pressed my hand to my chest as if I could hold myself together that way. But the ache kept growing. Tight. Sharp. Impossible to contain.

Maybe they were all right.

Maybe the Moon had made a mistake.

I wasn't meant for this place. This palace. This story.

I was still that girl in the shadows, with dirt under her nails and a heart too fragile to survive this kind of war.

And Cassian… Cassian would never look at me without hate in his eyes.

Not when he still saw Lyra in every room.

Not when I was the shadow that swallowed her.

I stood slowly. My body felt heavier than it should. I didn't belong in this gown, this room, this life. I wasn't elegant or strong or chosen.

I was just here.

Unwanted.

The books around me blurred. I wasn't reading titles—I was just trying to stand.

Trying to breathe.

And then—

A sound.

Soft.

Behind the shelf.

I froze.

Not a footstep. Not a guard. Something lighter. Slower.

I turned toward it, pulse rising. My spine prickled like I was being watched.

The room looked empty.

But I wasn't alone.

Someone was there.

And they had heard everything.