Lyra

The grand ballroom in your ancestral home was lit with a thousand candles, casting dancing shadows across the walls. It was there that you first saw Lyra, her porcelain skin glowing against the darkness, her eyes reflecting the candlelight with an otherworldly glint. You didn't know then that her gaze hid a lifetime of secrets, nor that her lips, which you so often kissed, could whisper to the shadows themselves.