The tenderness, the unwavering loyalty, and the way she used her own body as a shield to protect her... it stirred something deep inside her chest. Something old. Something painful.
A memory....
It wasn't clear at first, but as the maid continued tending to her, those buried images began to surface, memories of her mother. Of the way her mother used to hold her when she was scared or stroke her hair after a nightmare.
The soft hum of her voice. The warmth of her embrace. The way she always placed herself in harm's way whenever danger came close to the family.
And now, here this machine was mimicking that same care with a kind of grace and warmth Lyra had almost forgotten existed. Her lips quivered slightly. Her chest tightened, and a knot formed in her throat that refused to go away.
She wasn't sure if it was the pain from her wounds, the exhaustion, or just the haunting resemblance to her past, but for the first time in what felt like years, Lyra had to fight back tears.
