“We should probably go look at those weather records,” I said.
“Probably.” But he didn’t move, and he didn’t release my hand. He just kept looking at me in an odd way I couldn’t understand.
Fletcher groaned and slumped on the floor, placing his paws over his eyes.If you two are going to stand there staring at each other all day, I’m going to need more breakfast to fortify myself.
Do not jump up onto the table while we’re gone.
I’d never do something like that.
Sure.
Raoul released my hand and stepped back, clearing his throat. “Right. The archives. Shall we?”
The walk to the second level should’ve given me plentyof time to regain my composure. Instead, I spent the entire time acutely aware of Raoul beside me, of how his body occasionally brushed mine as we walked, of how he’d shortened his stride to match mine.
You’re both hopeless,Fletcher said, trotting along behind us.
We’re being professional.
You’re being something, but professional isn’t the word I’d use.
Then what word would you use?I asked.
Delusional.
I decided to ignore him.
Raoul led us down a corridor I hadn’t seen during the original tour, stopping in front of an ornate door carved with clouds and lightning bolts. He pressed his palm to the wood, and I felt a pulse of magic before the lock clicked open.
“The magical seal responds to Emberforge members only.” He glanced down at me. “That includes you.”
By marriage. Amazing.
The room he led me into stole my breath.
It was enormous, easily the size of the great hall, but instead of being empty space, it was filled with row after row of shelves. Leather-bound volumes stretched as far as I could see on the shelves.
“Three hundred years of daily observations,” Raoul said, pride shining in his voice. “In most, you’ll find weather reports. Temperature, precipitation, wind patterns, unusual events. It’s all documented.”
I moved forward in a daze, trailing my fingers along the spines of the nearest volumes. The leather felt soft with age, the gold lettering still clear despite the years.
“This is…” I couldn’t find the words to describe what I was feeling. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Raoul’s laugh made me turn. He was watching me with an expression that made my heart stutter.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. You look at historical documents the way most people look at treasure.”
“These are treasures.” I pulled a volume from the shelf, opening it carefully. The pages were filled with neat handwriting, recording who’d given birth, who’d died, and who was building a new house. “Do you have any idea what kind of patterns we could identify with this much data? What kind of predictions we could make?”
“Show me.” He came over to stand beside me.
I opened the book to a random page and began explaining the notational system, how the various measurements could be cross-referenced and analyzed. Raoul leaned in to see better, his shoulder brushing mine, and warmth flooded through me.
A snowflake drifted down between us.
“Sorry,” I muttered, dissolving it.
