Lyra took extra care to straighten out the pillow with the sack of jewels inside its case. She didn't want it to look unnatural, but by fussing with it, it appeared to be just that.

She gave up, accepting her paranoia for what it was—unreasonable and unnecessary. And yet she stared at the pillow for a few more moments anyway.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her daydream of a brighter future.

"Back again so soon?"

When Lyra turned around, she immediately began to tremble.

"Lyra, where's Cassie?" Joseph MacRae inquired sharply. "I thought she'd be sleeping by now."

"Oh? The princess?"

Lyra knew she sounded as dim as the candle still lit next to her. But that was by design. She needed more time to make up a plausible excuse for Cassie, something that would not arouse suspicion or convince him to go looking for her.

"Yeeeessss, the princess. . ." he scoffed in response.

Yes, I know who she is, and she's making the right choice, beyond a shadow of doubt.

Lyra wasn't one to blatantly lie, not to one's face, not to her current employer's face, but the situation demanded it and she hoped she was good at it. Listening to her sister, Ursa, over the years, she should have been almost as good at lying as she was. "Er . . . I think she went to see Alexander. There was a last-minute crisis regarding the dress, I believe. You just missed her."

"Oh. . ." His irritation and impatience switched to confusion. "I thought they were finished. She spent most of the afternoon with him and was late for dinner because of it. And they usually work on it right here. What could have possibly happened to the dress to make it unfit to wear tomorrow?"

"I don't know the details. I'm very sorry. I only came to her chamber to collect her tray. She was leaving with him as I entered."

Lyra's heart was nearly pounding out of her chest. She held her breath as Joe mulled over the supposed "facts."

"If you see her again before I do, can you tell her to stop by my room?"

Lyra bowed her head and curtsied. "Yes, sir."

She picked up the tray and flurried out of the room as soon as Joe had left the doorway.

After returning the tray to the kitchen, she fluttered along her usual route to the modest suite where her husband and son would be sleeping. She always despised the long, quiet hall that seemed to whisper her name.

Lyra shuddered and hoped that soon she would no longer have to live among such restless horrors.

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