She leaned down, hands on knees. “Rackna, I have a very important task for you.” The boy seemed to perk up at this, his eyes bouncing between us with unbridled excitement. “I need you to show Lady Nyleeria to the library. Do you think you can help me with that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood at attention then dragged his handsdown the front of his shirt which had little effect against the wrinkles. “It pleasure, ma’am,” he said, words stilted.
“Good. Make sure to come right back. Loruth will have a sweet treat waiting for you.”
Rackna swung around to find who I assumed was Loruth. The large, stoutly male nodded to the boy in confirmation. As if this was his cue, he walked right by me with purpose. “This way, Lady. Rackna lead.”
I offered Maqueea an appreciative smile and did as asked, following him through the doors.
Chin tilted up slightly, Rackna walked with a prideful purpose as he turned us down one corridor to another with confidence, and I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the sheer magnitude of Caius’ palace—or the number of courtiers that paused and lowered their heads in deference.
It was near impossible not to compare it to the lifeless hallways of Thaddeus’ palace, and it wasn’t until that exact moment that I’d even questioned how desolate it’d been. I wondered if it’d been for my protection or isolation. Either way, it felt like it was by design.
Eventually we stopped at a set of open doors, and I breathed in deeply, relishing in the beautiful familiarity of parchment and worn spines that reached into the hall as if beckoning me in.
“Thank you so much, Rackna,” I offered, lowering my chin in acknowledgment.
“Great honor,” he said, beaming. “It great honor, Lady Ny… Ny…” he tried, stammering over the word.
“It’s okay.” I winked. “All my friends call me Ny.”
Brimming with excitement, he said, “Honor. Yes. Lady Ny. Great honor.”
I couldn’t help but believe that for him, it truly was an honor. Without warning, he turned on his heel and began walking away before that understanding held weight.
“Rackna?”
Stopping mid-stride, he turned to face me. As our eyes met, his face dropped. “Oh,” he said and scrambled to offer me a bow.
“No, please. There’s no need for that,” I said, feeling guilty that calling after him had been received as a reprimand. “I just had a question for you.”
He perked up, eyes bright once more. “For Rackna?”
“Yes. I was wondering if you could tell me why this was a great honor for you?”
He jolted in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe my words. Tilting his head in confusion, he said, “You Lady Ny, no?”
“Yes, I’m Nyleeria,” I confirmed, unable to place the honorific before it.
“You Lady Ny-l-er-a.” His tone was matter-of-fact despite tripping over my name. “You great Spark. Momma told Rackna old stories when I was a bairn. You save all. For me, great honor. Rackna tell Momma of today. Of Lady. Of kindness. Yes.” He said the last word with a nod as if confirming it to himself, then without another word, he turned and left me to return to the kitchens and claim his sweet bounty.
I stared after where he’d disappeared at the end of the corridor for long moments, the heft of his words settling on my shoulders.
Chapter 11
Seeking Truth
Rackna’s words faded into the back of my mind as I crossed the threshold into the library, and stars above, my eyes couldn’t feast on its opulent grandeur fast enough.
I turned in a slow circle to take it all in, then repeated the motion while tilting my head up to take in its layers. The floor reflected the natural light flooding in through the domed skylight above and the plentiful windows along the perimeter. But the clear crowned jewels were the unending, fifteen-shelf-high bookcases standing proud. Their sand-white base allowed the color of the spines to coalesce with one another, transforming them into another form of art. And if that detail hadn’t been enough to prove the artisan crafted every detail in honor of the written words these shelves would cradle, then surely it would’ve been the exquisitely detailed carvings adorning the frame, complete with a thick topper like a crown with its delicate golden carvings that were clearly an homage to the Summer Court.
“Beautiful, no?” A gentle voice pulled me from my reverie.
It was an effort to drag my attention to the stout Lesser Fae male looking up at me with beady black eyes. I smiled inwardly; if he werehuman, he’d definitely be wearing large circular spectacles that were far too big for his frame.
“No,” I said, my voice dreamy as I stole another glance. “It’s…utter perfection.” I looked back to the male, who now beamed with the same pride the others had.
“That it is,” he mused. “That it is.” He paused to take it all in, as if my reverie had reminded him of just how beautiful this place was. Then he focused on me with a keen, if not kind, curiosity. “What answers have you come in search of, my dear?”
