Stumbling to his feet, he ran.
I sat down, leaned against the wall, and tried not to sob.
Fortunately, Ari found me a few moments later. “I knew you’d gotten lost.” He held hands with Antonia, who waved at me.
“I swear, this place is more twisty than a hangman’s rope,” I grumbled.
In a loud whisper, Antonia said, “Don’t feel bad, Araceli doesn’t know the way around yet, either. We had to ask for directions twice.”
“Is it Ari or Araceli today?” I squinted, realizing the outfit wasn’t as telling as usual. From the trousers I’d assumed male, but that was a female blouse with floral embroidery.
“I’m not sure today. Maybe in between? He or she is fine. Ari is a more gender-neutral name, I suppose.”
“Ari, then,” Antonia said firmly.
“If you’re not sure, you can always call me ‘they’ or ‘Ari.’ How can I be offended when I’m not always sure myself?” Ari winked at me.
I stood up. “I’ll call you my lifesaver for rescuing me before I died of dehydration in this maze. I wasn’t sure if the poor man would actually find you. The duchess must have done something dreadful to him. I should make it up to everyone the duchess has hurt. What if I asked all past victims to come forward?”
“You haven’t been around Arahasnor long enough to terrorize people yet,” Ari said. “This is pure reputation. I don’t recommend an open call for people to receive compensation. You’d get too many scammers, and you wouldn’t even know who was telling the truth.”
“Mean Mother hurt too many people,” Antonia said.
“That’s also true.” Ari turned back to me. “It’s not your crimes to take responsibility for, so try not to let it get to you.”
My shoulders sagged. They were right. Donya would want to throttle me for suggesting something so out of character and money-wasting. I didn’t intend to be in this body long enough to take responsibility for all the crimes, yet it didn’t quite sit right with me. Every time someone flinched away from me, I felt awful. I’d honestly rather they spit in my food.
Antonia patted my arm. “Ifeel much happier with you here.”
For her sake, I smiled. “Thanks.” To Ari, I said, “I wrote a letter to my family, to keep them from worrying. How do duchesses send letters?”
“Too many people want to spy on the Blood Duchess’s mail. I’ll send it for you. I’ve got ways of sending secret messages. It’s kind of you to not want to worry your parents.”
“I’m grateful.” I gave Ari my letter, not correcting the misunderstanding. I couldn’t complain about my difficult parents in front of two orphans.
Ari tucked the letter away. “We were going to the library to research body swapping. Would you like to come along?”
“Yes!” I cried.
Antonia shifted her feet. “See, I’m trying to fix you. Although if you did want to stay, I’d make sure you ate cake every day.”
I would have been flattered except I knew this came from a place of low standards. “If we catch the Blood Duchess, we can throw her in prison.”
Antonia pursed her lips. “You make a tempting argument, but I want her to die.”
Whoa, the look in the little queen’s eyes was dead serious. I gulped. “I leave the murder to Ari.”
“Red is your color, but you’re too adorable to be covered in blood.” Ari winced. “Sorry, that was habit. I used to flirt with the Blood Duchess sometimes as a way to appease her. It kept her … manageable. I’ll try not to do it in front of Countess Donya.”
Oh, of course Ari only flirted out of habit. It was selfish of me to feel disappointed just because I’d enjoyed feeling wanted. “Donya’s not scary at all.” I shrugged. “Don’t let that silly threat of hers bother you.”
Antonia grabbed Ari’s hand. “Yeah! No one can threaten us now that I’m queen.”
There was a long list of people threatening Arahasnor, but I didn’t burst the kid’s bubble.
The three of us somehow found the library. Probably because it was the biggest room on this floor. Although I’d complained about the palace being overly large, I immediately adored this haven to readers. The shelves stretched up twice my height, with equally tall windows in between. The second story had comfortable nooks for reading. A giant globe stood in the middle of the room: twice my height, with the unexplored parts of the world whited out. Its silver stand had a brilliant diamond on top. A mural of Umeko, patron saint of librarians, spread across the ceiling. The place was so uncannily silent, it felt like a shrine, especially with the sunset casting colors through the glass.
Standing still, I inhaled the scent of so many books. “Where do we even begin?”
