LYRA’S POV

It’s been over twenty minutes, and yet I couldn’t stop the tears that kept streaming down my face.

“You still love him,” Dad spoke behind me. I couldn’t help but turn to look at him. He wasn’t looking like the cold king who sat on his obsidian throne. Before me was just a man.

“I shouldn’t,” I whispered, sniffling slightly. “Not after everything he’d done,” I added.

“Yet you do,” He smiled in understanding before pulling me into a hug. ...