HAZEL
I stared at the door long after Lysander left. The silence felt thick enough to choke on.
Mother and Grandmother filed back in. The air shifted with their presence, heavier somehow. More suffocating.
"What did you talk about?" Mother asked.
The words sat on my tongue, bitter and sharp. Your chosen savior is hopelessly in love with Fia. I could already see it so clearly—the shock they'd have on their faces, the way Grandmother's carefully laid plans would crack down the middle.
But I swallowed it down.
"What did you promise the Lily of the Valley for their help?" I asked instead.
Grandmother's expression went flat. "Forget about that."
She walked to the bedside table and picked up Lysander's card. The gold lettering caught the light as she turned it over in her fingers.
