Page 68 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

I glance at Colton, catching a flash of approval in his eyes. This new side of Lyra, strong and unyielding, is undeniably attractive.

Despite her tough facade, I can detect the subtle signs of Lyra’s inner struggle. The almost imperceptible tremor in her hand, the way she fiddles with her necklace, all reveal the undercurrent of emotions she’s battling within. Yet, to the unsuspecting eye, she remains steadfast and strong.

Suddenly, Drew steps forward, drawing attention. “Lord Regent, it’s come to my understanding that my daughter, Citlali, has been here. Might I inquire about her whereabouts?”

Lyra’s gaze sharply turns to Drew, surprise evident in her eyes, clearly unaware Drew was going to ask this.

Kaine, idly toys with the gems on his sleeve. “Ah, that troublemaker. Yes, she did stir up quite the commotion in the village. At present, she’s confined to the dungeons. Should you wish, I could make arrangements for a meeting.”

“We would all like to speak with her,” Lyra interjects, her voice carrying an assertiveness I hadn’t expected. Every time I witness this newfound dominance in her, I can’t help but be intrigued about how the imminent awakening of her dark magic will further change her. If she chose, she could rule Eguina beside me as queen – with Cloudrum pledging loyalty to her and Nighthold to me. Coupled with her emerging dark magic, our reign could be unparalleled. Still, I recognize it’s her choice. For now, my aim is to gently weave my way back into her life.

Kaine, sensing his position, nods in agreement. “Very well. When you’re prepared, I’ll ensure a guard escorts you to her cell.” His voice barely hides his reluctance, but he knows he can’t deny her this.

Unable to contain my own curiosity, I press, “And Samael’s body? What became of it?” I’d relish the thought of spiting on that fucker’s grave.

I notice Lyra’s hand quiver even more at the mention of Samael. The urge to soothe her is overwhelming, but I hold back, focusing on Kaine.

He appears genuinely puzzled. “I’m not certain what you’re referring to.”

Frustration bubbles up. “His corpse. It was here in the throne room when we last departed – right there.” I point to a conspicuously refurbished section of the wall.

Kaine’s surprise seems genuine, unsettling me further. “I apologize, King Onyx, Princess Lyra. While I’m aware of the ordeal you encountered during your previous visit, we haven’t found any trace of King Samael’s remains.”

The thought is confounding, and I scramble through my memories of the last moments in this room. During the chaos after Lyra channeled, my primary concern was chasing her, especially once Chepi resurrected and I could take him to her. Handling Samael’s remains seemed secondary. I had assumed the palace staff, many of whom loathed him, would see to it – be it burial or cremation. Citlali, seemingly harmless with Samael gone, wasn’t even on my radar. Now, it seems she must’ve claimed his body, yet another vile scheme in her relentless pursuit to torment Lyra.

But he was dead. I’d witnessed the life ebb from his eyes, watched him crumple lifelessly. Panic seizes me momentarily at a horrid thought. What if we had been wrong? What if he was not truly gone? But the thought is too inconsistent. If Samael still lived, he would’ve already seized the throne and plunged everything into chaos.

It’s clear Citlali has taken his remains, likely a part of some twisted game. When we confront her, I intend to find out.

Lyra, deflecting the conversation from Samael, shifts the topic. “Is Lili still here?” she inquires.

Kaine, recognizing the name of the woman who’s devoted her entire life to the service of the castle, replies, “Yes, of course, I believe she’s gathering supplies in the village with a few other staff members.”

“I’d like to see her in my chambers. Can you send word for her to meet me there when she returns?” Lyra’s voice is almost steady, but I detect a subtle tremble that seems to go unnoticed by Kaine. He merely nods.

Colton interrupts the lingering tension, “Can we see Citlali now? There’s no point in delaying.”

While I expect Kaine to find some excuse to avoid the request, he simply responds, “Yes, of course.” Gesturing at two guards stationed by the entrance, he adds, “They will take you to her.” He then casts a lingering glance in Lyra’s direction, an expression that reads more calculating than concerned. “Should you require any further assistance, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Lyra acknowledges him with a nod, and we fall into step behind her as she leads the way, following the guards. The corridor is silent, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and tension.

Suddenly, I halt, compelled to address something. “Stop,” I command, surprised when everyone obeys. Standing directly behind Lyra, I meet her gaze as she turns to face me. “We need to talk. Privately.”

Her eyes scan the faces of our group before answering. “Alright.”

I spot an adjacent door leading to what looks like vacant guest chambers. Without hesitation, I push it open, ensuring its emptiness. “We’ll continue in a moment,” I tell the group, casting a pointed look at Colton before ushering Lyra inside. Though Colton’s expression remains inscrutable, I can sense the simmering displeasure beneath, and I flash him a smile.

Inside the chamber, I swiftly guide Lyra to the room’s far end, ensuring we’re well out of earshot from any potential eavesdroppers beyond the door. Her eyes, searching mine with evident concern, prompt her to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Pausing for a brief moment, I reply, “I wanted to give you a breather. Seeing Kaine, discussing Samael... It’s a lot.”

Her eyes, now glistening with tears, meet mine. “It’s...overwhelming,” she whispers. Unable to resist, I enfold her in my embrace, the feel of her is amazing, and I bend my head down and breathe in her sweet scent.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I assure her. She leans into the solace of our closeness.

But Lyra steps back and out of my arms. “I know it is. I appreciate the moment, Onyx. You’re right I needed it, but I need to stay focused. It doesn’t matter how I feel. There are more important things that need our attention,” she says, her voice firm yet soft.

I nod, brushing away her tears with my thumb, grateful when she doesn’t recoil. “Right,” I agree, allowing a hint of determination to seep into my tone. “Let’s go talk to the bitch about where she hid the body.”