Lira ignored him. Her gaze stayed on Lindarion.
"I was born under the third eclipse," she said again, voice even. "That's rare for our kind. Most consider it a bad sign."
'Of course they do. That sounds like the start of every villain origin story ever.'
Lindarion didn't speak, just watched her. Her expression didn't shift. No dramatic pause, no pride. Just words, given like dry facts.
"My mother tried to hide it. My father didn't care. Said if I was cursed, I'd earn it."
Ren muttered, "That's healthy."
Ardan didn't comment, but he didn't need to. The look he gave her was flat enough.
Lira kept going. Her hands were folded now, resting just below her ribs. Her back straight, like it always had to be.
"I trained at a court that no longer exists. Not burned, not broken—just abandoned. They didn't want its blood running into the newer cities. Too many names with bad memories. So they erased it."
Lindarion's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Erased? That's a new kind of exile.'
