“So, this has nothing to do with me? Oh wait, except for the fact that he ismyfather.”
“You are deliberately missing the point!” Aden recalled the reason he had returned to the room.
“Then why don’t you spell it out for me, since I am so stupid?” She stood to her full height as she challenged him.
Aden took a few deep breaths, blinking through the hazy light to try and make out her facial expression. Something in her reckless words hinted at a deeper hurt.
“I said you are deliberately missing the point.” His voice was still full of frustration, but he tried to keep the volume to an acceptable level. “I think you are smart enough to know what the point is, but you refuse to see it. So no, I will not spell it out for you, since you are more than capable of discerning it.”
She did not immediately respond. Rather, she turned away and seemed to be placing something back on the shelf next to her.
“Did Warrior damage a book?” Aden asked.
“No.” She moved away from him, working her way to a corner on the back wall.
“Good. I will be sure to keep him out of here in the future.” He remained where he was.
“But...?” she asked, as if sensing that he was not done speaking.
“But, I am actually quite fond of books. And I intend to utilize this library.”
She said nothing, which irked him.
“I did not ask to be here,” he continued, his voice less calm than he wanted. “You invited me here. I did not have to accept.” He stepped further into the room as he gained confidence in his argument. “In fact, you could say that I am here for your comfort. An enemy you can see is better than an enemy you cannot, right?”
He could not see her face, but he heard her sharp intake of breath when he repeated the exact words she and her manservant had used at the side of the canyon that very morning. He had heard the entire conversation, of course.
“I may have agreed to yourplan,” he continued, “but I will not tolerate being treated like ananimal.” He paused, waiting for her reaction.
“You are quite fond of books?” she finally responded.
He nodded. Not the response he was expecting.
“Then read to me while I work, Prince Aden of Iseldis.”
“Gladly.” That seemed simple enough, although this was definitely meant to be some sort of test. “What would you like me to read from? Astridonemus? Mirza?”
“Oh, no. They would put me quite to sleep. I prefer something with a little more drama.” Walking back to him, she held out a small hardbound book. “The Queen of Silverreign.”
As Aden took the book from her hand, two things became immediately clear.
He had met this woman before.
And he could not read a single word in his current condition.
Curses be damned.
Glancing around the room to stall for time, he saw a large armchair and made his way to it. Sinking down into it—thankful that it held his weight—he carefully opened the tiny book.
She was the woman he had spoken with on the balcony at the ball right before the curse. That was why she’d seemed so familiar. And she clearly knew who he was; she was proving it by handing him the book they had discussed that night.
The Queen of Silverreign.
Aden could barely make out the shape of the book in his hand, much less the words on the page. He knew many works from memory, sections from his favorite philosophers and lyricists, but he had only read this myth once and that had been too many years ago. He could not pretend to read by reciting it.
“Shall I start at the beginning?” he asked.
Did she actually want him to read it? Or was she simply too proud to say that she knew who he was, and this was her way of showing it?
