Chapter 388: Morning of Chaos
Lyria's POV
I was awoken by a gasp.
And then the unmistakable sound of something shattering against the floor.
I sat upright with a start, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. For several seconds, I could scarcely make sense of my surroundings. The remnants of sleep still clung stubbornly to my mind, and the morning light filtering through the curtains was far too gentle for the disturbance that had so rudely dragged me from my rest.
Then I saw them.
My maids were gathered near the doorway, their attention fixed upon the centre of the chamber.
And in the centre of it all stood Bridget.
A broken vase lay at her feet, its fragments scattered across the polished floor. Water had spilled over the rug and pooled between the shards, while the flowers Earl Hawthorne had given me lay sadly among the wreckage.
But it was not the broken vase that held my attention.
It was the cat.
