The palace corridors smelled of smoke, Lyra walked slowly, her hand brushing the stone wall, her other resting lightly on Eira’s arm. Eira matched her pace, steady and protective as always, but the tension in her steps gave her away.

“You’re walking faster than usual,” Lyra murmured, sensing the stiffness.

Eira gave a short huff. “Because I don’t like where you’re going.”

Lyra tilted her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “You don’t even know where I’m going ...