Theo meant well, Lyra understood that... or at least, she tried to understand. She didn't have any other allies in the Geslack manor, no connections, no power, nothing. Theo was her only ally, and in a way, that made her cling to him like a drowning woman reaching for anything to keep her afloat. It was this fear of going through things alone that anchored her to the servant boy, and it was this anchor that prodded her to follow him when he began walking away.<br/><br/>She was quiet as he spoke, and she merely hung her head in shame as he offered her a chair to sit on. Theo was far more concern with his words than Lyra was, in fact, she was far too busy reliving Engel's torturous treatment of her to pay any mind. Lyra's mind was unraveling, choosing to dwell on not only the humiliating she'd endured in front of Theo earlier, but on the torturous night she spent tangled in the Geslack's sheets.<br/><br/>It was Theo's closeness that bought her crashing back to reality, wide-eyed like a doe starring down a hunter's rifle. She let out an involuntary whimper then, Theo's closeness and the firm hold of his hands reminding her of Engel and his vile touch. It reminded her of how she'd responded to that touch moments earlier, how her splayed thighs had shown Theo a truth she didn't even want to acknowledge. She seemed to fall apart in Theo's very grasp, and it was only then, that the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes began to fall. Lyra (the once proud Bremmington Firecracker), unsure of what to do and so very afraid, began to cry and crumble before the serving boy's very eyes.