Snippet #1432936

Lyra returned to residing in her chambers, sitting indian style on the edge of her bed. Her elbow propped on her thigh, she leaned her chin into her cupped hand and sighed. Getting along with Soren was exceptionally boring. But then again, fighting with him was equally as exhausting. It angered her that she even forced herself to put up with him. It angered her that he was probably feeling the exact same way as her. She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. Perhaps she'd try again tomorrow. No matter, this was only fall back in her game. Pawns could be thrown away as long as she remained standing.

As she opened her eyes, the redhead automatically tilted her head so she could see the headboard of the bed. It sat silently as always, untouched. Friedrich, she thought with another sigh. How did you ever live with this? Why must I do this? Being cold hearted was the last thing anyone had expected from the San'Drelon girl. Lyra had always been seen as some ungodly goddess - if I may - in the eyes of those who kept a close watch on the house. Undoubtedly charming and charismatic, the girl had been wanted to be wed by every young male.

But it all changed when the fire struck. Something had happened. Something had definately changed. But what that something was, nobody knew. When Friedrich had first died, Lyra had grown quiet and introverted, though still kind as always. It wasn't until the flames were fed that she'd changed for the worst. Truthfully, her cold ways weren't instinct and were always sharp to her touch. It was second-nature to be this way. But it worked. For now. Soren, she thought and closed her eyes once more. Who was Friedrich really? Why did I even love him? How could I love a traitor like that?