Chapter 98 Forgiveness
~ Lyra's POV ~
I strained my ears, trying to make sense of the commotion rising from the entrance of the garden. The noise was not chaotic, but it carried enough tension to pull me from my thoughts. As I focused harder, I realized it was someone insisting on seeing me, their voice edged with urgency, while Taren responded with firm and unwavering refusal.
Since the sky was now clear and the strange cloud was no longer hovering ominously in the distance, I slipped my feet back into my shoes. The earth still tingled faintly beneath my skin from the power I had drawn, but there was no immediate threat left demanding my attention. Curiosity replaced urgency as I made my way toward the entrance to see who would dare insist on seeing me despite Taren’s resistance. The voice was unfamiliar, and that alone made me slightly restless.
When I reached them and saw who it was, surprise struck me so sharply that I almost stopped mid step.
It was Fin.
Of all people, he was the very last person I expected to be requesting a private audience with me. What could he possibly want now? Had he not done enough already?
“Taren, is something wrong?” I asked as I approached them, my gaze shifting between the two.
“He says he wants to speak with you, my lady,” Taren explained immediately, his face set in a hard, protective expression. “He insists on doing it privately, but I cannot allow that.”
Before I could respond, Fin stepped forward slightly, turning his full attention to me.
“Miss, please hear me out. I really need to speak with you,” he said, his voice lower than I had ever heard it.
I didn't allow him to finish.
“One moment you are running away, and the next moment you suddenly need to speak with me?” I asked sharply, the memory flashing vividly in my mind of how he had turned and disappeared down the hallway earlier. “Have you not done enough damage already?”
His expression dimmed instantly, the arrogance I once associated with him nowhere to be found. “I only ran because I was scared,” he said quickly. “I promise I am not here to cause any trouble.”
“If you are not here to cause trouble, then say why you are here. What exactly do you want?” I demanded.
“I want to apologize for what I did to you,” he replied, his eyes flickering around nervously as though he feared being watched. “But I don't want to do it in such an open place.”
An incredulous laugh almost escaped me, but what I felt was not amusement. It was insult.
“You want to apologize to me for something you did publicly, yet you don't want to apologize in an open place?” I said, my tone laced with disbelief. “How convenient.”
His shoulders sagged further. “I am a warrior,” he explained, almost defensively. “If I am caught apologizing to you, I will get into trouble.”
“Then don't do it,” I snapped without hesitation. “I never asked you to apologize, and nobody is forcing you.”
“I know,” he said, nodding slowly. “I’m not being forced. I’m doing this because I regret what I did to you. Please, I am asking for your forgiveness. I did you wrong. I repaid your kindness with cruelty, and I regret it deeply. If there were a way for me to undo what I did, I would undo it without hesitation.”
His apology did not bring relief. It sent a sharp mixture of pain, bitterness, and simmering annoyance coursing through my entire being. The words struck old wounds that had never truly closed, and for a moment I did not even know how to respond. My mind felt heavy with memories I had tried so desperately to bury.
“Will your apology bring my aunt back from the dead?” I asked, my voice steady but hollow as the memory resurfaced with cruel clarity. That was the deepest cut of his betrayal. That was the part that refused to heal no matter how much time passed.
He did not answer. He simply looked at me, and for once there was no defiance in his eyes. There was pain there, yes, but it was useless pain. After a few seconds, he lowered his gaze as though he could not withstand the weight of my stare.
“The only reason you can't answer that simple question is because you already know the answer is no,” I continued. “So how exactly do you expect me to forgive you when you can't give me back what you took from me?”
“I’m truly sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ll do anything you want, anything at all, apart from bringing back the dead because I don't have that power. If I did, I would do it without hesitation.”
“You will do anything?” I repeated, holding onto that single sentence as an idea began forming in my mind. I saw, in that instant, an opportunity. Not only to punish him, but perhaps to release myself from the weight of this anger.
“Yes,” he nodded quickly, almost eagerly. “Anything within my power, just to earn your forgiveness.”
“There is one thing you can do that will make me grant you instant forgiveness,” I said slowly, watching him carefully. “And yes, it is well within your power.” He waited without blinking, his entire attention fixed on me. “Get my aunt to forgive you, and when she does, I will forgive you as well.”
The horror that spread across his face was priceless.
It was not just him. Taren, too, looked as though he could not believe the words that had just left my mouth.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Fin asked weakly. “She is already dead.”
“There are three ways,” I replied without hesitation. “First, you will go to the house where your actions led to her death. You will go with offerings, and you will kneel there and pray to her soul for forgiveness. After that, you will attend her funeral and pray again to her soul for forgiveness before she is laid to rest. The third and final step is that you will return here and build an altar dedicated to her. You will offer your final prayers and appeasement there. After you have completed all of that, I will forgive you.”
When I finished listing the steps, silence fell heavily over the garden. He stared at me as though weighing every word, perhaps searching for cruelty or mockery, but there was none. I meant every syllable.
After a long pause, he finally nodded. “I will do everything you have asked,” he said quietly. “I will return once it is done. Thank you.” He gave a short bow before turning to leave.
“Fin,” I called before he had taken more than a few steps.
He stopped and turned back toward me.
“I don't give second chances,” I warned firmly. “Make sure you complete every single step. If you miss even one, I will know.”
He swallowed and nodded once more before walking away.