“Brilliant plan, except I do not know what a numeral system is. Do you think he would notice if I just guess where the books go?”
Her expression is one of horror as we make our way back to the center. “Of course he would know.”
“Class will begin shortly,” the librarian states, pushing a bunch of navy blue books with a silver dragon on each one towards us. “Take these to the tables.” He directs us to the spot where three round tables have been set up. “Then one of you needs to stay with the class in case they need anything. The other can begin filing the books.” I grab half the stack and Gwyneth the other.
“What’s safer for me? Gravity or the blessed Hallowed?” I ask Gwyneth. This is the kind of decision she makes on our behalf.
She eyeballs the many staircases. “You stay here. I’ll file the books.”
We slide the books onto the table and she grips my arms, pushing me to sit in a chair. “You got this, Daphne. Just don’t move and you’ll be fine.”
She disappears into the stacks. Don’t move, I got this. No problem. I gaze at the tall windows and the ever present black curtains. It would be a crime to start a fire here with so many books and flammable material. If I remain motionless, nothing bad will occur. Right? My hands twitch. Ugh, how many turns am I supposed to sit here? This is torture. I scan the shelves of books.No, Daphne, you must sit still–don’t move.I wring my hands together on my lap and try counting the number of buttons on my skirt. I’m on my second count because the first time I got distracted by the way the light glints off the shiny silver of the buttons when the thunderous steps rumble under my feet. Idols, is that a dragon coming to class? I twist and stare over my shoulder. Malachi, Theo, and Hart are walking in a line toward me. Of course, the class is for the Stirlings. How ridiculous of me to think otherwise. Theo’s eyes lift and slam into mine. My fingers glide across my lips and I feel a thrill wash over me as I think of Malachi's kiss at sundown and Theo's tongue dancing across my neck. He nudges Malachi’s arm, and another set of twinkling green eyes finds mine, along with a wicked grin.
The final Stirling brother lifts his head. The air between us is thick with Hart's contempt for me. Tough bunkum poop, because I’m here to stay. That cloud-like bed is the pinnacle in my life. I’m not giving it up.
Malachi chuckles. “We have even better beds in our chambers.”
I blink. Oh no, I’m doing that thing again—verbal vomit, and no one is safe. My heart thumps in my chest as I stand and move away from the tables. I’m sure the blessed Hallowed don’t want me sullying their chairs. I feel the soft fabric of his shirt rub against me as his arm encircles my waist and he pulls me onto his lap in the chair I just vacated.
I squirm. “Let me go.”
His arm tightens around me, his fingers curving around my ribs, his thumb barely brushing oh so close to my breast. “Are you assigned to this class, pretty mouse?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then do as you’re told and sit still.”
Malachi crashes into the chair next to me and I see a smirk on his face as he stares in my direction. “Or don’t. I’m sure your fidgeting will make for a more interesting lesson.”
I freeze and a breath stutters out of me as my cheeks heat another degree. They are so hot you could cook sausages on them. Yum, sausages, I wonder how long it is until mid-meal.
“There’s no such thing as too much sausage,” I blurt out.
“Glad to know your position on that social issue,” Malachi says with a wink.
“Put the Burgher down before you give her ideas above her station,” Hart sneers.
Theo puts his chin on my shoulder. “Jealous, brother?”
Hart rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of his ass. “Don’t be ridiculous. She is a calamity that we can’t afford in our lives.”
My heart gives a slight twinge as I press my lips together. I’m used to people telling me I’m not worth their efforts or time because of the chaos I bring. But for some irrational reason, this rejection from Hart stings.
“Let me go,” I mutter to Theo. “Please.”
He sighs and unwraps his arms from me. My feet remain rooted to the floor as I turn my eyes away from Hart's judgmental gaze while I take unsteady small steps backward. I make it all the way to the window and shuffle my ass onto the built-in seat.
“Here comes Nash,” Malachi murmurs.
“Who?” I wonder, just as a tall figure strides into the clearing. My heart stutters in my chest and I blink at the male. Holy Idols in Blazes, there’s another one. No one told me there was another one. With dark hair tamed back off his bronzed face, he cuts a fine figure in a crisp white shirt and black pants. Green eyes, darker than the others but just as stunning, clash with mine. A frown appears on his face as he drops a stack of scrolls and books onto an empty table.
"Turn to page six hundred and fifty-six," the newcomer instructs, his voice soft as he looks away from me and studies his brothers, their attention firmly on our exchange.
“You’re not going to say hi to our pretty mouse?” Theo asks. Nash’s head jerks up and he scowls at me. I’ve been discussed among the brothers, that much is clear. “Pretty mouse, this is Nash, our eldest brother and tutor.” Four Stirling brothers in one space. My poor Burgher brain can’t handle it.
“The books need to be dished out,” Nash says, pointing at the pile right in front of him. It would take him half a tempo to give them to his brothers, but I need to be deemed useful. I slip off the window seat and slide between Nash and the table. I hand each of the brothers a book, then bend down and open the last book to page six hundred and fifty-six for his idolness. My intention was to be haughty, but the image in front of me draws my attention. A huge rainbow colored dragon graces the double page. My eyes begin to scan the words. Dragons, damsels, and knights. All seems fairly straightforward.
“We covered this,” Hart snaps. “Next page.”
