Lyra Point Of View.

I lifted my hand and snapped my fingers once.

“Call the headmaid back,” I told the guard standing by the archway. My voice was calm, almost bored, but my eyes stayed on Syra.

The guard didn’t hesitate. He bowed and left at once.

Syra stood stiffly before me, her hands clasped, her breathing shallow. I could see the questions crowding behind her eyes, but she was smart enough not to speak.

When the headmaid returned, her steps were careful, her back bent slightly ...