TORN BETWEEN THE THREE

Chapter 2:

A dress

Rhea's POV

Lyra's arm stayed firm around me as I leaned into her for support.

"It's okay, Rhea. Let's just get to my room," she said softly.

The moment we stepped inside, she guided me toward the bed and helped me sit. The familiar lavender scent of her chambers wrapped around me, but her eyes stayed on me with worry.

"Should I call the doctor or something?" she asked.

I shook my head quickly and waved my hand. "I'm fine," I managed to say, though my voice was still weak.

And then, just like that, it was gone. The heat, the strange pull, all faded as if it had never happened. The air felt lighter again and my breathing was no longer ragged.

"I'm fine," I repeated, meeting her gaze. "It's gone."

Lyra studied me with furrowed brows. "What was that?"

I let out a long sigh. "I don't know. I've never felt anything like it before... soft heat, and so many-"

Her eyes widened suddenly. "Heat?"

I blinked at her. "Yes... why?"

Lyra leaned closer, almost whispering. "Rhea, I think... maybe it's the mate bond. It's your  birthday tomorrow, so maybe it's a sign you'll find your mate tomorrow."

My heart raced. "Really?"

She grinned so wide her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Oh my gosh, Rhea, I can't believe it! I can't wait! If you find your mate tomorrow, maybe he'll take you away from here and give you the life you deserve."

I hadn't thought about it before. Finding a mate? Being with someone? It had never felt like an option for me. But now... the thought crept in. Maybe it was possible. Maybe tomorrow will change everything.

Without meaning to, I smiled.

Lyra gasped and pointed at me playfully. "Oh, look who's smiling! That settles it, you have to come to my birthday party tomorrow."

I shook my head. "Lyra, I can't. I'm a servant. I won't even be allowed near the main table."

"Rubbish," she said with a little wave of her hand. "Tomorrow, you're not a servant. You're my special guest. Okay?"

I hesitated. "I don't have any nice dresses, Lyra. All my clothes are worn-out rags. Please... I don't have to go."

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, the kind that meant she had already decided my fate.

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said, standing and moving toward her wardrobe. "I have something for you."

I watched as Lyra strolled excitedly to her wardrobe, humming under her breath. She threw open the polished wooden doors and reached inside.

When she turned back to me, she was holding something on a hanger...a long, flowing dress in the richest shade of sapphire blue I had ever seen. 

The fabric shimmered under the light, catching glimmers of silver in its silk folds. It looked impossibly soft, like water running between fingers, the kind of gown meant for royalty, not for someone like me.

"Lyra... what's this?" I asked, my voice small.

Her smile was bright. "It's the dress you're going to wear tomorrow for the birthday party."

I shook my head quickly, my eyes darting back to the gown. "I can't wear something like that." My fingers tightened in my lap. "It's so expensive, Lyra. What will they say?"

She stepped closer, her expression soft but unyielding. "Hey, it's your birthday too. You have to dress nicely. Do it for me."

My gaze lingered on the dress. I had never, not once in my life, worn anything so pretty. Every stitch whispered of a world I didn't belong to, yet Lyra was placing it in my hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She had a way of doing that, making my darkness a little less heavy, giving me a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on when no one else would.

I reached out slowly, my fingers brushing against the cool silk before taking the hanger from her.

Lyra's grin widened. "I can't wait to see you in this tomorrow. You're going to look like a princess."

Her words made something flutter in my chest, a strange mix of hope and fear.

I rose from the bed slowly, my eyes drifting to the door that stood slightly ajar. If Mira or any of the other maids spotted me here, in Lyra's bedroom, they would make sure I paid for it with extra work.

 The kind of work that left my fingers raw and my knees aching.

"I should go to my room now," I said quietly.

Lyra gave me a look of reluctant acceptance. "Okay... but try not to do any more work, alright? Just get some rest."

I nodded. "Okay... and thank you."

We hugged briefly, her warmth seeping into me for a moment before I stepped away. With the dress clutched tightly to my chest, I slipped out into the hallway.

My steps were cautious, my ears straining for the sound of approaching footsteps. I kept my head low, my pace quickening. 

I couldn't risk anyone seeing me, especially with this dress in my hands. Jealousy in this mansion was a dangerous thing.

I was almost to the narrow hallway that led to my tiny, cramped room when a shadow moved in front of me.

Mira crossed her arms, her eyes sweeping over me with open disdain. "Oh... it's you again."

My stomach tightened. Why now?

Her gaze drifted to the bundle in my hands, and her brow arched. "What's this? Did you just steal?"

I instinctively stepped back. "No, I didn't steal this, I swear. Lyra gave it to me herself."

Her eyes narrowed. "Lyra gave you this?"

I nodded, my grip tightening on the hanger. "Yes. She said I could wear it tomorrow."

A short, disbelieving laugh escaped her. "You? In something this expensive? Even I've never even gotten a dress like this. Why would she give it to you?"

I swallowed. "She just wanted to," I muttered, holding the dress closer.

For a moment she studied me in silence, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers. Then she gave a little shrug. "Hmm, you may go. Go to your room."

I didn't argue. I hurried past her, my heart pounding, and I slipped into the safety of my small room.

The door clicked shut, and I finally exhaled. Setting the dress gently on my narrow bed, I allowed myself a moment to just... look at it.

 The sapphire silk seemed to glow in the dim light, almost too beautiful to touch.

I needed to freshen up. The day's grime clung to my skin and hair, and no matter how hard I scrubbed, I never felt clean enough.

In the tiny bathroom, I washed quickly, the single bar of soap slipping against my skin. I wrapped my old towel around myself and stepped back into the room.

I reached for the small bottle of oil I used for my skin. But then, my eyes snapped to the dress.

The silk... was torn.

It wasn't a little snag. It was a full rip from the waist all the way down to the hem.

The breath left my lungs. My heart stopped, then slammed back to life in my chest.

No... no, no, no.