The air in the room felt heavy. Ayesha turned away, pressing a hand to her forehead. "So all this time… he believed Lyra is his daughter?"
And now, she wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Everything she'd heard clashed in her mind, each piece twisting into another until none of it made sense. Her temples throbbed, the pressure building until it felt like her head might burst.
"Yes." Marla's answer was firm, but her eyes held sympathy. "And from what I've seen, he has no doubt of it."
Ayesha stared blankly at the floor. So many things suddenly made sense—the way Alaric looked at Lyra, the warmth in his voice when he spoke to her, the almost immediate claim he had over her.
But if what Marla said was true… then her own claim over Lyra wasn't as solid as she thought. And the thought of what that might mean sent a sharp pang straight to her heart.
