The first item on Lyra’s schedule after her short holiday was a prenatal visit, a quiet start to what she hoped would beco a steady new routine.
Days before Cala arrived in Mistvale, Dante reminded her never to ntion Volkhan’s na. Here in Mistvale, he used his maternal family’s na, Cortez.
He warned her that even a single slip could bring consequences they would rather avoid.
Lyra was applying cream, seated in front of the mirror, while Rowan stood in the walk-in closet. His eyes were fixed on the watch on his wrist when he asked for the third ti,
"Are you sure you don’t want to send you? Did he really hire a cab to pick you up?"
"Yes. Mr. Cortez’s house is opposite your office in South Mistvale. No need to worry. I’ll return by lunch."
After breakfast together, Rowan waited until the promised cab arrived before heading to his car and driving to the Pierce office tower.
The cab drove her up to the luxurious mansion, its gates opening to reveal manicured gardens and gleaming marble steps.
As the vehicle ca to a stop at the porch, the butler stepped out to greet her with a polite bow.
"Good morning, Dr. Ashford."
"Morning..." Lyra replied, giving a small nod.
Then her gaze landed on Dante, who appeared in a good mood.
"Morning... how was your ride?"
"Morning... it was fine, no problems along the way."
"That’s good to hear. So... have you had breakfast yet? If not, you can keep company,"
He was hoping she would say yes, but she shook her head. She had already eaten before the ride. That made him upset, but he didn’t show it.
"In that case, let show you to my wife’s room."
He led the way up to the second floor.
As they arrived and Dante rembered sothing, he turned toward her.
"Did you bring a face mask?"
"Ah, yes... I’m putting it on now." She reached into her bag and slipped the mask over her face.
It was his preparation to avoid Cala recognizing her. He knew Cala still held a grudge over her brother Jas’s death.
Dante leaned toward the door, he knocked and announced,
"The doctor has arrived."
He opened the door and held it for her. "I can’t go in. I’ll wait out here."
Hearing that, Lyra urged him to either have breakfast or keep himself busy, rather than just stand there idly.
"You may leave and have breakfast first. If anything cos up, I’ll ask the butler," she said.
Dante didn’t want to make it obvious that he intended to stay with her, so he left.
Lyra paused at the doorway, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room. The mood felt heavy and muted. No sunlight pierced the curtains to brighten the space.
She wondered if no maid dared to enter the room, or if they simply ca in and left quickly.
Of course, it was their first ti... but he neglected his wife here. She would have to show Dante what a suitable environnt for a pregnant woman looked like so the mood stayed bright every day. As a husband, he had to learn.
Lyra looked at the woman who slumped on the bed, her back facing her.
"Madam, I’ll co in, okay?"
She heard Cala mumbling sothing and assud it was her permission to enter. Lyra stepped forward and placed her bag on the nearby sofa.
"I’ll draw the curtains and open the window."
Cala was too weak to protest. She simply went along, hoping the fresh air would ease the nausea that tornted her.
Lyra picked up her stethoscope and other tools before approaching the bed.
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, took Cala’s weak hand, and began her examination.
"Have you eaten anything this morning?"
Cala shook her head faintly.
"In that case, I’ll go downstairs and prepare sothing for you."
Lyra closed the door behind her, only to find the butler still standing outside, waiting for her.
"Sir..."
"Mr. Griffin."
"Ah... Mr. Griffin, could you show to the kitchen? I’d like to et the chef."
The butler nodded and led the way.
On the way to the kitchen, they passed Dante, who was in the middle of his breakfast. He raised his gaze to her.
"I’m just passing by to the kitchen," she said with a smile before continuing to follow the butler.
Lyra asked the chef to prepare a light al, referring to a recipe she had written in her notebook.
She couldn’t cook to save her life, but she knew exactly what was suitable for a pregnant woman to ease that constant nausea.
Afterward, she asked one of the maids assisting the chef to prepare a lemon freshener and everything needed to be ready quickly.
Lyra leaned against the counter near the chef, who showed his skillful movents. She was amused watching him work, not noticing Dante leaning against the doorfra, observing her in silence.
Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her hair was tied into a loose bun on top of her head, exposing the delicate curve of her neck.
A mont later, she felt a strange prickle along her skin, as if soone’s eyes were on her. She turned toward the kitchen doorway, only to find no one there.
She rubbed the back of her neck to ease the sudden shiver.
Thirty minutes passed, and breakfast was the first to be ready.
Lyra stepped closer to the bowl and had just reached for it when Dante’s voice stopped her.
"Wait..." He shook his head, a faint crease forming between his brows. "You don’t have to do that. Just ask the maid for help."
He flicked his gaze toward the maid, who imdiately picked up the bowl and carried it away.
Then he turned back to Lyra, leaning in slightly.
"I hired you as a doctor. You don’t need to be doing things like this."
"Oh, I’m sorry..."
She realized Dante had strict rules, keeping the maids behind the line. But she was one of the people he had hired. Why bother?
After all, it was his house, his rules, and she didn’t want any maid getting scolded because of her.
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