I shrugged apologetically at the matron and allowed the princess to lead the way.
***
Entering the quiet and dimly-lit library, I felt a rush of excitement at the familiar smell of aged parchment and leather bindings. Stacks of books indeed lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Aside from the occasional wooden table and chairs, rows of bookshelves occupied most of the space.
An ancient librarian asked if we needed any assistance, but I was already making my way down an aisle, surveying titles with enthusiasm. Amongst them were some that I knew and loved.
I reached for a thick text with a dark blue cover. The librarian inclined his head in approval. “A fine choice, although often overlooked.”
“Surely that would take you a lifetime to get through. Look at the size of it.” Amalie’s blue-green eyes widened.
“This,” I said, cradling the book to my chest, “happens to be one of my favorites. I’ve sacrificed many hours of sleep for this story. It’s about a long and devastating war between two ancient cities over the most beautiful maiden in the land.”
Her expressive face looked somewhere between disbelieving and impressed. The librarian nodded stoically, and then, as if satisfied that his precious books were in good hands, he left us to roam. I continued to scan row after row while Amalie chatted away absentmindedly.
“Something like that would put me to sleep. In fact, all books seem to put me to sleep. Especially the ones Lord Helvig assigns to me for additional studies,” she said, face pinched.
Now was my window. “You mentioned that Prince Hugoenjoys his studies. Is Prince Tarben much the same, or is he more similar to you?”
“Oh, Tarben hates reading! He’s like me—he’d rather be outside.”
“Does he share your love of horses?” I pulled a book off of the shelf to examine its worn leather cover. It was likely to fall in the category of putting a child to sleep, so I carefully slid it back into its slot.
“Yes, but I have to beg him to take me on rides. He’s always so busy with his royal duties these days.” She frowned deeply. “He always makes time for the dogs, though. He walks them every evening.”
Anders had said something similar. An idea began to take shape in my mind.
“I can’t ride, but I’m never too busy for a turn around the gardens, and I would certainly be grateful for the company,” I said, eyes focused on the titles in front of me. Gently, I retrieved a thin book from the shelf and handed it to the princess. “Give this a try. It’s another one of my favorites and it’s not too long. I have a feeling you’ll like it too.”
“Really?” she beamed at me, accepting the book. “I could take you to the stables, you’ll adore Hazel.”
An hour later, as we left the library, my arms strained from the weight of the books I carried. Still, it wasn’t enough. I cast a longing gaze over my shoulder.
As if reading my thoughts, Amalie spoke, “You can take as many as you wish, you know. I could send for the servants to deliver more to your bedchamber?”
It was tempting, but I couldn’t afford to spend all my free time reading. I had other, pressing matters requiring my undivided attention. “That is thoughtful of you, Your Highness, but I can’t be sure how much longer I will remain at the castle. Your family has been kind, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“You could remain here permanently. At the castle,” she said nonchalantly, as if inviting a practical stranger to live in her home was perfectly normal. “There’s plenty of room, and Father won’t mind in the least.”
Well, that was never going to happen. The moment the curse was broken, I would flee like a sprite in lightning. I shook my head, making a show of humility. “I’m not sure that’s possible. But I will forever be thankful that our paths crossed.”
“We’ll see about that,” she responded, a conspiratorial smile on her face as she headed towards a staircase I assumed led to the royal quarters. “See you at dinner.” With that, she breezed away.
A smile tugged at my lips. This was almost too easy.
Chapter 12
I arrived at my bedchamber to find Runa waiting with a bath already drawn. She had come to help me dress for my impending dinner with the king.
Butterflies swarmed my stomach at the thought of navigating an evening with unfamiliar mortal nobility. Every movement I made would be scrutinized. Every word would be weighed. I would have to give my most believable performance yet.
But if there was anything Doran had taught me, it was that the remedy for worry was preparation. So, in the bath, I silently practiced my response to every question I could think of, no matter how unlikely or absurd.
Heat had long abandoned the water by the time I was satisfied that AlaraVeradiswas ready to make her debut.
After my bath, Runa presented me with a gown. “I thought this one would bring out your eyes,” she said with pride.
The turquoise gown, crafted from fine silk, was exquisite. Delicate silver threads of embroidery accented its surface, weaving swirling patterns of vines that shimmered like moonlight dancing over a lagoon.
