Forced Into Tyranny

7: Whispering Night

Thevalon Castle,
The Forecourt.

         "Alaric, behold," Queen Morgana whispered to the priest of Sallón Home, the Shaman, her captivating grey eyes fixed upon the aspiring queen.
          Queen Morgana found herself lured by Lyra's beauty, from her lithe figure to her shining, raven-black hair. Despite the darkness of her locks, they still seemed kissed by the sun, with a shimmer that caught the light quite so. Not only was she breathtaking, but — as Lord Syagros, her brother, had revealed — had the gift of art, drawing with a keen eye for detail and a steady hand. As she neared adulthood, she should have been surrounded by eager suitors vying for her attention, but instead...Queen Morgana shook her head sadly.
         "Welcome to court, Syagros."
         After the Queen's greeting, Lyra gracefully curtsied before the monarchs, starting with her queen and then her king. Her ladies-in-waiting mirrored her every move, a testament to her impeccable training since childhood. It seemed that Lord Mayor Syagros had always harbored ambitions for the crown, and now he was finally achieving what he had long desired.
       For some unknown reasons, Queen Morgana was captivated by the girl the moment she laid eyes on her. She desired no one else but her to capture the heart of her son. The queen simply wished to embrace Lyra, guiding her to soar high and learn to spread her wings.
         "She'd make a fine queen," Morgana pondered silently, before speaking aloud, "Welcome, Lyra. Follow me, I shall personally guide you to your chambers." With a snap of her fingers, she beckoned the person she recognized as Lyra's whip boy, instructing him to unpack the carriages. "Make yourselves at ease."
         As Lyra entered the grand castle of Thevalon, her heart swelled with a mix of joy and pain. The passages were adorned with charming fountains, leading to a staircase that connected all four floors.
         Queen Morgana had explained that the entire fourth floor belonged to the monarchs, where Kōgon, Rørikus, Teresson, Hagnon's three brothers, and Varma, the princess, had their chambers. Once the queen was crowned, she would also move to her chambers there. The third floor was reserved for those with titles, such as Lords, Ladies, Mayors, Shamans, Barrigos, Faelins, Sablethons, and others. They would stay there when invited for political affairs or feasts. The second floor for the bourgeois. And the last floor housed the kitchen, slave quarters, throng-halls, library, and a few mysteriously locked doors.
        "That's enough for tonight," Morgana declared, halting in front of the chamber she had chosen for Lyra on the third floor. "Your ladies-in-waiting will rest in chambers next to yours."
         "And what about my whip boy?" Lyra's caring nature slipped through her queenly facade. How unlikely. Morgana wished the girl could retract her words, for a queen's compassion was forbidden.
         "He will be situated where you cannot see. Somewhere distant, yet near enough for the king's reach." Morgana swung open the sturdy wooden door and motioned for Lyra to step inside. "Under no circumstance should you open the East window. A girl once fell from there and perished before hitting the ground."
          Lyra's anxiety grew as she glanced at the east window, then turned her gaze to the north before nodding. Delving into further details about the enigmatic window would only prolong this meeting, which she longed to conclude.
         "Thank you, Your Regal Majesty. I found your teachings quite enlightening and captivating," Lyra expressed with gratitude, bowing respectfully. Morgana placed a commanding hand on Lyra's head before nodding and briskly exiting the chamber.
         Once the door shut with a muffled thud, Hecuba and Monima burst into laughter. Lyra joined in, leaping onto her bed, relishing the feel of the regal sheets and curtains. She explored every cupboard, shelf, mirror, and window until she reached the eastern one. There, she hesitated.
         "My Lady, do not stand too near it. It may bring ill fortune," Monima sighed. Lyra ran her fingers along the glass, gripping the handle tightly.
         "My Lady?" Hecuba's voice was filled with concern. "Please, I implore you, refrain from opening it."
         Lyra could sense her ladies' apprehension, their worries echoing those of Queen Morgana. However, the persistent whispers of her curiosity drowned out their warnings. Without hesitation, she swung open the window, peering down into the dizzying depths. The East wind tousled her hair and jewelry, its powerful and alluring presence beckoning Lyra to lean out, even if only halfway.
          Eyes widened, Hecuba snapped out of her panicked state and rushed to Lyra, clutching her dress to hold her back. "What in the world are you doing?"
         Monima stumbled down as well, her voice filled with worry. "If you wished to meet your demise, you could have done so before coming to court and gaining the Queen's favor." Together, they forcefully closed the window and pulled Lyra away from it. "Gods above, she's freezing. I'll fetch a cloth to cover her."
        "What was that?"
        "What do you mean?" Hecuba asked Lyra, guiding her to the bed to calm down.
         Shivering from fear rather than cold, Lyra clutched her dress tightly. "I heard someone speak."
         "I heard nothing!" Hecuba exclaimed. She looked at Monima who shook her head at once. "Monima heard nothing! You must be mistaken, Milady."
          Deep down, Lyra knew she hadn't misheard the voice. It wasn't just any voice, but a boyish one that had whispered: "As the night falls, secrets awaken, and the shadows reveal their hidden truths. You, too, will fall and shall be revealed."