Though I nod at his casually spoken words, I can’t help but tense. It feels easy to rejoice how wonderful it is to be out of the tower, to not have to worry about the watchful eye of my uncle and to move about freely. But with the council wanting to question Nox—questionme—my freedom seems more of an illusion. Maybe it is foolish to worry that it might be a recurring theme in my life, but I find myself silently hoping that it won’tbe. That there might be a day where I can walk about the palace, the kingdom, whenever I want without fear of someone questioning who orwhatI am.
Deep in the labyrinth of shelves, Nox finally finds the books dedicated to love stories. The minimal natural light that had blanketed the library near the entrance is non-existent here. Instead, floating flames in glass bowls bob in the air above us, making the center of the space glow yellow while the corners of the shelves still hold shadows.
“I’ll give you time to look around. I’m going to go say hello to Rayna, the main librarian here. The old bat gets cranky when she knows I’m back home and haven’t checked in with her.”
“Okay, take your time.”
His lips find mine, that spark of heat that’s always present near him flaring to life for a moment before he pulls himself away with a quiet groan. His steps are nearly silent against the thick rugs, and I watch him go until he rounds a corner and is out of view. Blowing out a breath to cool myself, I turn and examine the books in front of me as I tuck my unbound hair behind my ears. The selection is overwhelming, and I’m not sure how much time passes as I browse, only that, eventually, I have a stack of eight books in my arms.
I try to backtrack to the front of the library, but with how similar the shelves look and the overwhelming number of aisles, I quickly get turned around. My heart pounds soundly against my ribcage as a familiar tension begins to creep into me.I’m not in the tower. I’m not in the tower.I can’t explain why or how quickly it rises—the fear. Fear of being trapped and left here, even if Iknowit’s a library and not a stone prison. Fear that I’ll be found by someone who wants to take me back to my uncle.
My throat grows tight, and my chest compresses as air trickles to my lungs. Stumbling over my sandals, my feet still clearly not used to being dressed, I smack my shoulder into oneof the bookcases, and all of the books I’m holding go flying, scattering onto the floor in front of me. My hand trembles as I bring it to my chest, the frantic racing of my heart making it heave.
“Excuse me, are you alright?”
Whipping my head around, I meet the gaze of a woman with copper hair, the color exaggerated by the spelled flame she’s standing under. Her gray eyes move quickly to the carnage of books on the floor and then back to me, pausing on my shaking limbs. Before I can respond to her question, she kneels beside my mess.
“I’malwaysstumbling into things. Especially when I don’t have my glasses on.” She doesn’t look back to me but, instead, points to the glasses on her face as if I wasn’t aware of where they were. One by one, she stacks my books up by her knees. “My parents say it’s because I have a bad habit of reading while walking, but sometimes a book is toogoodto put down, you know?”
I try to slow my breathing down, remembering all the times that Nox has helped me do it.In and out. In and out.
“And because I walkeverywhere, I have a lot of time to kill. So why not get lost in the pages of made up worlds and fantastical characters?” she continues, picking up a blue leather-bound book, the title embossed in gold over a picture of two people kissing. The woman gasps loudly and turns to me. “Have you read this one?”
The fog that had been clouding me seems to part enough for me to at least shake my head in answer.
“Oh, it’s incredible! It’s about a princess who falls in love with the captain of her guard, and they have to hide their romance, but she’s also forced to be betrothed to her best friend, and then the friend betrays her and nearly kills the guard, and—” The woman sucks in a breath, a look of annoyance on her face as ifoffended that she’s interrupted her own explanation of the book to do so. “Anyways, chapter thirty-two will absolutely make yousob. Full on crying with snot and everything.” Standing with my books now stacked in her arms, she turns to me fully, her round black glasses sliding down her nose.
“Thank you,” I mumble, reaching out for the books.
“No problem. Are you new here? I’ve never seen you in the library before. Not that I knoweveryone, but I spend a lot of time here, and I’m pretty sure I would remember you.”
I stare at her, the weight of the books in my arms making my shoulders round. A few awkward seconds tick by before I clear my throat. “Yes. I’m new to the palace.” My eyes widen at what I’ve said, how I’m admitting to this stranger that I’m not from here. Scrambling, I blurt out possibly an even worse admission. “I mean, I’m new to the kingdom.”For the love of the gods, Rhea.The woman’s brows draw together, her pert nose wrinkling in confusion.My mouth opens and closes three times before I finally settle on, “Imean, I’m new to Galdr.”
Her laugh is light as she shakes her head. “It’s okay! Sometimes I talk faster than my brain can keep up with. Want me to walk with you to the front desk? It can feel like a maze in here until you get familiar.”
Nerves cause my palms to sweat, but I force out a shaky reply, “Alright.”
The woman smiles wide, a small gap showing between her two front teeth. “I’m Elora, by the way.”
“I’m Rhea.”
It feels like we endlessly turn corners, books all blurring together and the signs identifying them ranging fromQueens of the Mage KingdomtoThe Care of Flowers and Faunaand a particularly jarring section titledDeath and Creation: Where Do We Come From?which only housed a few books on a single shelf.
I keep a half step behind, my gaze continually sliding towards her even at the risk of tripping again. Elora is dressed in comfortable-looking clothes: loose tan cotton pants and a white button-up shirt that is tucked into the front, the back billowing out. Though the outfit is casual, it does nothing to hide her voluptuous curves underneath them. Her sandals are similar to my own, strappy and black. When I catch her watching me, I scramble for something to say—anythingthat will help me not seem so awkward. So out of place.
“So, do you like to read a lot of romance novels?” she asks, saving me from myself.
“I do. They are my favorite. So much better than the boring history books N—” I make a heinous choking noise to interrupt myself before I say Nox’s name, heat rising up my neck and face.
Elora laughs again right as we finally break free of the labyrinth of books and approach two light-colored wooden desks that are set in front of the large square window, the forest beyond a thickly woven sea of trees. Vases of small flowers in dark purple and blue dot the front corners of each desk.
“I don’t mind reading some of our older tomes that talk of magic and life centuries ago—before the Spell and war. The newer stuff, however…” Elora shivers from whatever she deems unfit about those texts. “Anyway, I can check out the books for you.” She rounds one of the desks, the other occupied by an older woman—her hair white as snow and tanned face set in deep wrinkles—who must be Rayna. She hums to herself as she flips casually through the pages of a book, not sparing Elora or I a single glance.
I grunt as I set my books on the desk, making the vases shake. Elora opens a small drawer, pulling out a pen and a large notepad. The pages are lined, scribblings of what I think are names and possibly titles of books written on each one. She takes a seat at the desk, writing the titles of my books and givingme little summaries of each one and what chapters were her favorite—an odd number of them involve her being brought to tears.
“Okay, Rhea, what is your last name?”
I swallow, my eyes flicking to hers. I don’t know if I should give my real last name, but I hadn’t even considered asking Nox about creating a fake one.Should I have given a fake first name?She tilts her head expectantly as she watches me, her pen lifting from the paper so as not to make the ink dot that had grown while she was waiting any bigger.
