Free Web NovelChapter 109: A Mask Removed
Chapter 108: A Mask Removed
Lyria’s POV
"It’s you."
The words rang through the hall with a clarity that felt almost violent.
I did not move.
For one suspended moment, I convinced myself that if I remained perfectly still—if I did not so much as acknowledge the accusation—then perhaps it would drift past me as though it had never been spoken at all.
Earl Hawthorne stood among the others, his gaze fixed upon me with a kind of startled certainty that made something in my chest tighten.
I lowered my eyes.
I would not answer him.
I would not give shape to what had just been said.
I was no one.
I had always been no one.
And so I remained as I was—silent, still, unremarkable.
A servant drawn too far into the light.
That was all.
The silence stretched for a while, but then I heard a voice speak. One voice I hated and would forever hate.
"My dear," she said with fake warmth in her voice.
My head snapped up before I could stop myself.
The Queen was already moving.
There was no hesitation in her step, no uncertainty in the way she crossed the distance between us as though the entire hall had been arranged solely for this moment.
Her eyes—bright, glistening with tears—were fixed on me with something that looked almost like concern.
"Lyria," she said.
My breath caught.
She reached me before I could think to step back, her hands rising to cup my face with a familiarity that made my entire body go rigid.
"My dear, are you quite alright?" she asked, her voice trembling just enough to be convincing. "You must be overwhelmed."
I stared at her.
I could not help it.
I searched her face for something—anything—that might make sense of this.
There was nothing.
Only careful softness.
Only deliberate concern.
"I—I..." My voice failed me.
She did not allow me to continue.
"I know," she said gently, her thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. "You have never been fond of the light, have you?"
A ripple passed through the hall.
The Queen sighed softly, as though burdened by something deeply unfortunate.
"She has always been this way," she continued, her gaze lifting just enough to address the room while still holding me in place. "Sensitive to attention. Uncomfortable under scrutiny."
Her fingers moved again—this time pausing at the edge of my mask.
"I have told you before, my dear," she said, her voice carrying just enough for the nearest nobles to hear, "you do not need this hideous mask to hide your scar. You do not need to hide in the shadows either. You are not a shadow."
With a swift, practiced motion, she removed the mask.
Gasps filled the hall.
The scar on my face—the one I had hidden for years—was now exposed for everyone to see.
My fingers twitched at my sides, and the Queen smiled. It was subtle and also not kind at all.
"I have told you," she said again, her voice returning to that careful gentleness, "that you need not hide yourself away for something so trivial."
Trivial.
The word echoed strangely in my mind.
I nearly laughed. I was not the one who made me hide in the shadows—that was the Queen herself. She was the one who made me hide in the shadows as one to her daughter.
This whole situation was absurd. It was a performance that made very little sense. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
And I had no script to follow.
"Well," a voice cut in lightly, breaking through the tension.
Duke Thorncrest.
I turned slightly, my body still stiff, my thoughts still struggling to arrange themselves into anything coherent.
The Queen had pushed him to the side when she hugged me.
He tilted his head, his gaze settling on my face—not with revulsion, not even with curiosity, but with something far too measured to be accidental.
"It is not so terrible," he said conversationally. "If one were not looking for it, one might not notice at all."
"And had it not been so generously pointed out," he added, his tone almost thoughtful, "it might have passed entirely unremarked."
The Queen’s hand tightened against mine.
She was irritated. She did not show it outright, but the increased pressure on my hand said enough.
"Come," she said softly, ignoring the duke’s words.
Her fingers curled around mine.
She pulled me away without so much as a glance in Duke Thorncrest’s direction.
I stumbled half a step before catching myself, my balance uncertain, my thoughts even more so.
Her grip did not loosen.
If anything, it tightened.
She had a smile on her face even as she murmured to me,
"Play along, unless you wish your mother to suffer for your defiance."
I tried to pull my hand free, but her hold only tightened further.
And as I struggled, pain flared across my back.
"There we are," the Queen said, her voice once again light and composed as she straightened. "No need for distress."
My fingers curled into my palm.
I said nothing.
"Really," she continued, addressing the court now, "it is not as though we were hiding her away." ƒrēewebnovel.com
A lie.
Spoken so easily it might have been truth.
"Lyria has always preferred a quieter existence," she went on. "Have you not, my dear?"
"Particularly," she added, her gaze flicking briefly to my face, "given her... sensitivity regarding the mark."
The silence that followed was different from before.
"Your Majesty," Baron Redwick spoke up.
"I would inquire," he said, "whether that is indeed the truth."
The Queen turned to him, her expression calm.
"And what, precisely, do you mean, Baron?"
His gaze shifted to me.
"Forgive me," he said, though there was no apology in his tone, "but I recall the lady somewhat differently."
A murmur stirred.
"She did not appear averse to the public eye," he continued. "Nor particularly inclined toward concealment."
My heart began to pound.
"You see," he added, adjusting his spectacles with that same careful precision, "I encountered her not long ago, when I was engaged in an outing with Her Highness, Princess Jacinta."
Jacinta stiffened beside the Queen.
"And I was under the impression," he said, "that the young woman in question was a maid."
"I was, in fact, compelled to assist her," he went on. "She did not strike me as one who feared... the light."
