Perilune

Chapter 4

Lyra left the cell as if wading along the bottom of the ocean. The residual pounding of her heart offered a chaotic beat to the syllables of her disjointed thoughts as they tried to come together on a theory. Amaris hadn't harmed her since their first encounter. She'd tried to make her laugh. She asked how she was treated. She certainly seemed to enjoy making Lyra squirm, but she had yet to resemble the monster Lyra met on her first day.

Lyra's stomach turned. She grit her teeth. If she had believed it would help, she would have punched her own chest. She was beginning to feel she might actually be an exception to the fate her position guaranteed. That wouldn't do. Lyra knew better than to imagine herself as exceptional through any eyes. It was the most reliable way in which Lyra routinely broke her own heart.

She certainly wasn't going to start up that old habit again now. Every interpretation of her conversations with Amaris which led to conclusions of her actually mattering were foolishly optimistic. She didn't even matter to other humans; she couldn't possibly matter to a dragon.

Lyra groaned as this was difficult to reconcile with her experiences. She refused to be fooled by the light filtering down from above. Intense as the weight upon her was, she knew if she were to try to swim, she would only find a layer of ice trapping her beneath the surface. Everything she'd called hope in her efforts would ferment to despair; the most agonized souls in hell are those who thought they would see heaven.

When she failed once more to make sense of Amaris's behavior without floating toward the surface and having to drag herself back, Lyra decided to distract herself from one conundrum with another; she was exhausted. She needed somewhere to nap, especially if she was to be wide awake at three. She certainly wasn't going to sleep during the day in front of Amaris; such a thing could be interpreted as not taking her duties seriously.

Lyra absently drifted to the kitchen. She grabbed a large loaf of bread and pulled the tablecloth off the table, snatching a cooking timer out of a chef's hand. He glanced at his oil-stained clothes and did not protest. Lyra set up in the corner of the kitchen, using the bread as a pillow and setting the timer before curling up under the tablecloth as the chefs just gawked at the scene. Lyra fell asleep quickly, wanting to cry when the timer went off and she groggily climbed to her feet.

A guard in plainclothes sat at the table, staring blankly at her while eating a bowl of oatmeal. She wiped drool off her face. "What?" She demanded. He looked away. "That's what I thought." Lyra tossed the bread she'd used as a pillow on top of his bowl before returning to her duties.

When Lyra brought the loaded cart into Amaris's cell, she was stunned to see Amaris sleeping by the entrance. "Leave it. I am not ready to be woken," she muttered at the sound of Lyra's footsteps, "I wish to be well-rested. I look forward to the early morning." She shifted slightly and fell silent once more. Lyra obliged quietly as she could, shaking slightly.

This was the last meal she was sure she would walk away from. Amaris was certainly looking forward to the next meal. Unease threatened to knock her off her feet as she wondered what horrible things Amaris could intend for her. Her previous inclination to feel any optimism was effectively banished by now. Amaris saw her as a mouse, and was batting her around like a bored cat. The time was drawing near to go for the kill.

By the time Lyra returned to the kitchen again, enough time had passed since she'd gorged herself at breakfast that she was hungry again. Lyra entered as the chefs finished up preparing dinner for the servants, giving dismayed glances at her back as she immediately began making a mess.

Lyra began scrambling eggs while the chefs left. A few servants arrived to scrub the surfaces clean. They glared at the spread of cookware and food across the surfaces. Although the majority of it was left from the chefs, the look in their eyes placed the entirety of it on Lyra. "I'll be out of your way soon," Lyra muttered.