She tugged at the corner of her lips, a cold sneer forming. "You really are willing to spend generously to secure my apology."
Selene leaned over to peer at the bracelet, her voice immediately turning sour. She tugged at Fenris's arm with a little shake. "Fenris, I had no idea you and sister were so close. Exchanging such precious gifts..."
A flicker of guilt crossed Fenris's eyes. His tone grew awkward as he avoided Lyra's gaze, turning to Selene instead. "It's not a courting gift."
Then he faced Lyra, forcing the words out as though they pained him. "The mating ceremony date we set before needs to be postponed. Lyra, consider this bracelet compensation."
Lyra's fingers tightened around the box until her knuckles went white. She said nothing, only looked at Fenris with mocking eyes that saw straight through him.
Postponed. This was the ninth time. Every single time, it was because of Selene. Every single time, he delivered the news in that same casual tone, grinding her hopes to dust beneath his heel.
Her silence made Fenris visibly uncomfortable, as if he couldn't bear to remain seated under the weight of her stare. He stood abruptly, grabbed his formal coat from the back of the carved chair, and turned to Selene. "Something urgent came up at the central den. I have to go. Rest here, and send word if you need anything."
He practically fled the hall, as though another moment in her presence would be unbearable.
Watching his hasty retreat, Lyra lost all appetite. She set down the wooden box, grabbed a piece of honeyed bread from the table, took two bites that tasted like ash on her tongue, and returned to her chambers. She couldn't stand breathing the same air as Selene, couldn't bear the mingling of their scents.
That afternoon, Lyra took a rest. When she woke, the sun had already shifted west, its golden light slanting through the gap in the heavy curtains onto the stone floor. She stretched lazily and reached for her wrist out of habit—only to find it bare.
The silver bracelet her mother had left her was gone.