Chapter 41

Alistair’s POV

The festival air was warm, buzzing with chatter and laughter. Bright lanterns swung overhead, and the scent of fried dough mingled with carnival music. The sounds and smells wrapped around us, loud and chaotic, yet somehow distant to me. Lyra tugged at my sleeve, her eyes wide and earnest. “Can I get her an ice cream?” she asked softly, nodding toward the little girl clinging to her mother’s hand.

The child’s mother hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her gaze, then managed a small nod when Daisy looked up at her with hopeful eyes. The woman rose from her bench and hurried forward as if gathering courage. “I want to buy an ice cream,” she confessed to me, voice low, “but I don’t have any money.”

My jaw dropped. She had no money, yet wanted to treat her daughter—so innocent, so sweet—to ice cream. The simple wish hit me harder than I expected, lodging under my ribs. Before I could reply, Lyra leaned in, already tugging my arm. “Can we get an i