Chapter 93

Lyra’s POV

I woke to the first fingers of dawn slipping through the curtains, pale streams of sunlight painting soft lines across my face. The air in my bedroom felt hushed and calm, as though the world itself were holding its breath in that peaceful early hour. Last night had been exhausting—I was so fatigued that I never even saw Mrs. DeWitts before collapsing into bed.

I rolled onto my back and yawned, lingering for a moment in the warm haze of blankets. Finally, with deliberate laziness, I sat upright. My limbs felt heavy, stiff from sleep, and I stretched my arms overhead until my shoulders popped. Just then, a gentle but insistent knock came at my door.

“Who is it?” I called, voice thick with sleep.

“Good morning, ma’am. This is the head maid,” came the muffled reply from the hallway.

I rubbed my temples. “What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound less grouchy than I felt.

“To get you ready for breakfast, ma’am,” she answered cheerf