The rules changed quietly.

Lyra noticed it before anyone bothered to tell her.

The corridor outside her chambers sounded different when she woke. Not louder, not harsher—just wrong. The rhythm of movement had shifted. Where there had once been a casual overlap of footsteps, servants passing guards and guards nodding back, there was now a rigid pattern. Heavier boots. Longer pauses. No unnecessary motion.

Containment had a sound.

She rose slowly, letting herself become fully awake before ...