Her mother would have told her to pick everything up and apologise a hundred times over. But her mother wasn’t there for her anymore. No one was.
Amira angrily wiped at her tears.No,no crying. The one thing she could count on was her next pill. It was the only thing keeping her above water.
“What in Liraen happened here?” Tarnan asked. Amira jerked her head up, taking in Tarnan’s presence at the library’s door. With burning cheeks, she gasped for words, for an explanation. She came up empty.
In two long strides, Tarnan was next to her, swiftly removing the shards of ceramics surrounding her. “Are you all right, Amira?” When she didn’t reply he added, “I’m not mad.”
“You should be,” Amira choked. Pressing her palm against her lips, Amira tried to hold in a cry, but failed miserably. Tarnan lowered himself next to her and gently caressed her cheek. Unlike Wryen, his touch wasn’t burning, it was comforting.
“It’s your addiction, notyou.I understand.” Tarnan helped her up and put his arm around her waist to support her. “I will send a servant to clean up the mess. Why don’t you freshen up and then we can have dinner together?”
Unable to form a coherent sentence, Amira nodded. Tarnan’s loving smile reminded her of her father—another person lost to her.
* * *
After taking another pill from a very unpleasant Elyssa, who had argued again that she should be authorised to leave their quarters, Amira felt more in control of herself. The familiar numbness of fortae fogged her mind, and the sense of shame she had felt when Tarnan had found her was gone.
“I’m a terrible host,” Tarnan said, pulling Amira’s attention. “I invite you to stay with me and then I disappear to deal with court matters as soon as you arrive.” A servant poured him a glass of peach juice, and Tarnan smiled at the fae gratefully.
Tarnan’s dining room was both charming and impressive. Painted to replicate the golden hue of the morning sun, the walls made her feel as if it wasn’t dusk already.
The whole palace had a pleasant atmosphere about it. Its sunset-coloured corridors and intricate golden decor held a stark contrast to Turosian’s darker design. Amira hadn’t seen a garden like the one she used to visit in Karwyn’s palace, but the Carnylen palace had ivy growing everywhere, cascading down the outer palace walls and making it appear bright and inviting.
A large crystal chandelier shined bright above the surprisingly small dinner table. On the opposite wall stood a wooden cabinet that showcased a few crystal bottles filled with what must be alcohol. Sitting across from her, Tarnan smiled at her as if she hadn’t made a mess of his library mere hours ago. Even though the pill mellowed her care, Amira still wondered about the state of the library.
“Is it fixable?” Amira asked. Out of habit, she gestured to the servant for one of the bottles held in the cabinet. She caught Tarnan’s worried stare. Of course, he thought she had an alcohol problem. The servant hesitated, searching for Tarnan’s approval.
“The princess will stick to water tonight, thank you, Nyam,” Tarnan said to the young servant, his tone warm.
Amira felt like a misbehaved child reprimanded by her father, but to keep up her cover, she didn’t argue.
“Where were we?” Tarnan continued, taking a sip of his peach juice. “Ah yes, the library. My skilled staff have been able to clean most of it. And I have sent the damaged books to an expert, who will take great care of them. Don’t worry.” Tarnan put down his glass, anchoring his gaze in Amira’s. “I’m glad you’re trying to further your knowledge, Amira, and I don’t blame you for your illness, but I do have to request you treat my books with more care. Knowledge is most invaluable.”
Under different circumstances, Amira would feel the need to apologise, but in this moment, fortae left her feeling nothing.
A servant brought her a plate full of delicious-smelling food. Without waiting to be served, Amira used her fork to pick up a piece of meat, staining the sleeve of her violet dress in the process.
“If the books were interesting, my research wouldn’t have to be that thorough,” she bit out against her better judgement. Her throat closed up as a battle between fortae and her former self started in her, setting her skin on fire.
Tarnan didn’t seem angry as he looked her over, only worried. Amira’s nostrils flared as she tightened her grip around her fork. Who was he to worry about her? She didn’t need it, didn’tdeserveit.
He let his servant place the food in front of him before digging in. “And what exactly are you searching for?” Tarnan asked, calmly.
“Something not dreadful,” Amira lashed out. “All the books on fae history repeat the same things.”
Tarnan simply nodded at Amira’s words. “Everyone should know history so as not to repeat it. But you’re right, history is written by the winners and no writer is unbiased. I’m in possession of a collection of books with lesser-known facts, but I don’t share them with everyone. My trust needs to be earned first.”
Amira stilled her fork on her plate. She tried her luck. “There’s a secret door behind one of the bookcases. What’s behind it?”
Taking a bite of his food, he replied, “You must have been taking a very close look at my collection to have found that particular shelf. But with the mess you made, I suppose you were bound to find it.”
“You haven’t answered my question. These books you mentioned, are they behind that door?” Amira urged. She gripped her fork with so much force that her skin must be turning red.
“Are you aware that your father visited my library when I became the King of Carnylen? I was so impressed by his visit, I couldn’t say two words to him. I was a very young king and he had lived through the Dark King’s reign. Eventually, he became one of my truest friends, someone I could always rely on.” Tarnan tried to catch her gaze. “I have never forgotten his kindness, and I intend to repay it.”
Amira wanted to learn about the secrets behind the door, not be reminded of the father she was surely disappointing now.
“What I’m wondering is how reliable you are in your current condition,” Tarnan said.
