The Unwanted Daughter

If Lyra Everhart had one gold coin for every time Isabella called her useless, she could have bought the manor by now.

Possibly the neighboring manor too.

Maybe even Isabella herself.

Not that Lyra wanted another problem in her life.

"Useless."

There it was.

Right on schedule.

Eight-year-old Lyra didn't even bother looking up from the basket of laundry balanced against her hip.

The basket was nearly half her size.

She felt that was deeply unfair.

"Good morning to you too."

The comment earned her a glare.

A successful start to the day.

The Everhart Manor stood atop a hill overlooking the capital city of Elaria.

Tall white towers reached toward the clouds.

Golden banners danced in the breeze.

Beautiful gardens stretched around the estate like a sea of color.

Visitors often called it magnificent.

Wonderful.

Dreamlike.

Lyra preferred the term prison.

A very expensive prison.

But a prison nonetheless.

At eight years old, Lyra wasn't what most noble daughters were supposed to be.

Her long black hair was currently escaping from a braid that had taken an exhausted maid nearly twenty minutes to create.

Several stubborn strands hung around her face.

They always escaped.

Nobody knew how.

Not even the maids.

Her sapphire-blue eyes seemed far too bright for someone carrying laundry before breakfast.

They sparkled with the kind of curiosity that usually led to trouble.

A lot of trouble.

The manor staff had learned to recognize that sparkle.

Whenever it appeared, something was probably about to break.

"Did you hear me?"

Isabella demanded.

"No."

"You never listen."

"I do."

"No, you don't."

Lyra considered this.

"That's possible."

Isabella looked personally offended by the existence of her younger stepsister.

A condition Lyra had unfortunately been unable to cure.

"Mother says you're supposed to clean the west hall."

"I just cleaned the west hall."

"Then clean it again."

"Maybe the dust came back."

A servant nearby suddenly developed a coughing fit.

Lyra suspected it was laughter trying to escape.

At fourteen, Isabella already looked every bit the perfect noble daughter.

Golden hair.

Elegant posture.

Expensive dresses.

The ability to insult people while smiling.

A skill Lyra found both impressive and concerning.

The grand staircase suddenly fell silent.

Uh oh.

Every servant straightened immediately.

Several looked nervous.

One looked ready to flee.

Lady Seraphine had arrived.

Lyra's stepmother descended the staircase with the confidence of someone who knew she owned everything she saw.

And probably several things she didn't.

Her blonde hair shone beneath the morning sunlight.

Her emerald dress looked flawless.

Her expression did not.

"Lyra."

Danger.

Immediate danger.

"Yes, Lady Seraphine?"

"Why are you standing around?"

Lyra glanced at the laundry basket.

Then at Seraphine.

Then back at the laundry basket.

"I'm beginning to suspect we have very different definitions of standing around."

Silence.

One servant quietly turned around and walked away.

A wise decision.

Seraphine smiled.

Lyra immediately became suspicious.

Nothing good had ever followed that smile.

Nothing.

Not once.

Not ever.

"Since you apparently have enough energy for jokes..."

Seraphine folded her arms.

"You may clean the library after you're finished."

"The entire library?"

"Yes."

"It's bigger than my bedroom."

"Then perhaps you'll finally spend time somewhere useful."

Ouch.

That one had some effort behind it.

Lyra watched her stepmother walk away.

Then looked at the servant beside her.

"That felt unnecessary."

The servant nodded.

"It really did."

The Girl Without Magic

Magic existed everywhere in Elaria.

It flowed through rivers.

Whispered through forests.

Slept beneath mountains.

Children awakened magical affinities before reaching ten years old.

Fire.

Water.

Earth.

Wind.

Healing.

Light.

And dozens of other rare variations.

Most children eagerly awaited their awakening.

It was one of the most important moments of their lives.

Families celebrated.

Neighbors visited.

Gifts were exchanged.

Everyone was excited.

Lyra wasn't.

Because hers had already happened.

Or rather...

It hadn't happened.

When she turned eight, healers from across the capital examined her.

Then examined her again.

Then once more because they thought they had made a mistake.

No affinity.

No magical signature.

Nothing.

The daughter of a gifted mother.

The daughter of an influential father.

And somehow...

No magic.

People tried not to say it in front of her.

Unfortunately for them, children had ears.

"Such a disappointment."

"Poor Lord Cedric."

"Her mother was talented."

"What a waste."

Adults often forgot that whispers could still be heard.

Or perhaps they simply didn't care.

Father

Not everything in Everhart Manor was terrible.

There was one exception.

Lord Cedric Everhart.

Her father.

The library doors opened later that afternoon.

Lyra looked up from a mountain of books.

Her entire face brightened instantly.

"Father!"

Lord Cedric smiled.

A real smile.

Not the polite noble version.

The genuine one.

And suddenly the room felt warmer.

He crossed the room and gently brushed a strand of black hair away from her face.

"You're covered in dust."

"The dust attacked first."

Cedric laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound made Lyra grin.

She missed that laugh.

She missed him.

Even at eight years old, she understood something important.

Her father loved her.

The problem was that the kingdom seemed to love borrowing him.

Meetings.

Politics.

Royal duties.

Trade disputes.

Important people discussing important things.

All of them stole pieces of his time.

And somehow there was never enough left over.

Still...

For a little while, they sat together.

Talking.

Laughing.

Being a family.

And Lyra would remember that afternoon for the rest of her life.

Because sometimes the happiest memories become the hardest to let go of.

Outside the library windows, dark clouds gathered beyond the distant mountains.

Far beyond them stretched the legendary Beast Forest.

A place of monsters.

Magic.

Ancient secrets.

And stories.

Lyra often dreamed about adventure.

About freedom.

About seeing the world beyond the manor walls.

She had no idea that before the week ended...

The Beast Forest would become her home.

And somewhere deep among those ancient trees...

A silver-eyed wolf suddenly lifted its head.

As though it had heard the beginning of a story.

End of Chapter 1 🌙📖

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