If she was going to sever all ties cleanly, every loose thread needed binding. Her bloodline claims, her territory rights, her elder votes—all of it had to be organized and transferred to a sealed trust under Council protection. She refused to leave behind any tangled mess for others to pick apart and use against her.
Beyond the arched window, the afternoon sun drifted westward, its golden warmth fading to soft amber, then sinking below the treeline until only a faint glow remained against the darkening sky.
Lyra finally closed the ledger and rubbed her aching wrists. The documents on her desk sat in neat stacks, every parchment organized exactly as the trust required. Not a single detail out of place.
She rose and stretched her stiff neck, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. Only then did she remember the scent-tag communicator she had set aside while sorting through everything.
The moment she picked it up, the surface flickered to life. Messages from Selene filled the entire display.
"Hey, dear sister, what do you think of this ring? Is it not absolutely gorgeous?"
Nine images followed, each one dripping with deliberate smugness.