“So you started coming at eight years old? That’s so young. Did you travel here alone?”
“No, at the start, Mum occasionally came with me. Actually, she took a few classes early on to learn more about identity affirming care and to help with my treatments. I take this monthly potion to keep my chemical levels balanced. She learned how to make that here.”
Monthly? It’s a good job he wasn’t held in the dungeons for that amount of time. But I believe Bastion would have gotten Will the care he needed, even if he wanted Will dead.
“That’s amazing of your mum.”
“Yeah, although it was kind of embarrassing to have her hovering nearby when I was trying to seem cool in front of my classmates.”
“That doesn’t sound bad to me. I love spending time with your mum.”
His short bark of a laugh turns into a sigh. “To be honest, the last year and a bit weren’t great, what with the whispers from Alrick. When my dad got really sick, I decided to leave. I wanted to be at home.”
I can tell he’s clenching his fists inside his pockets. Being back here must be flooding him with memories, and not all will be pleasant. It makes me wonder if him hiding his hands away so often is related to his transition—if there is any leftover anxiety regarding the shape of his hands. I’ve had them on my mind since the day he healed my injuries, so I want him to know that they’re a part of him I adore. I bat at his elbow and get a frown of confusion in return.
“Take your hands out of your pockets,” I order. “I want to hold your hand.”
A laugh of surprise bursts out of him.
“Never subtle are you, Princess,” Will says, and holds his palm out, thin fingers stretched wide. Perfect for mine to interlace with. I lock our fingers together, satisfied. The moon and sun in an eternal embrace.That’s better.
“Cute,” he mutters.
“Shush. Focus.”
We turn again, and for the first time so far, the aisle is occupied. A woman in white-and-teal robes peers at a bookshelf from behind thin-rimmed oval glasses. Her long white skirt, embroidered with gold leaves at the hem, is paired with a teal headband resting on long silver hair. One of her sleeves is pinned where her arm ends at the elbow, while her other arm is extended, keeping a stack of books afloat with a spell.
“Hanya?” Will says, and halts in his tracks.
The woman looks up.
The books clatter to the floor.
“Willoh!”
There’s a moment where she can’t decide whether the fallen books or Will’s appearance demands her attention more. Will twists his hand and the books fly back to their suspended stack.
“Will, you shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, glancing over her shoulder.
“Oh,” Will says. His grip tightens in mine.
The woman checks behind her again. “Alrick told us to contact themimmediatelyif you’re seen. What did you do?”
“Nothing! I mean, I accidentally stabbed this darling princess here,” Will explains, “but as you can see, she’s fine. Well, she keeps insisting that she’s fine.”
I twitch my fingers in a wave.
“Um, hello,” I say.
“There are already guards posted along the border to Alrick, thanks to you, and this is a library,nota battleground,” Hanya says. She shakes her head so her silver fringe dances side to side. “In allmy time here, I’ve never heard of a kingdom so suddenly interfering with the Library. You must havereallycrossed the line.”
“Hanya, come on, you’ve known me since I was a child. I’m harmless!”
She sighs at Will—something I get the feeling she’s done a lot over the years.
“Right…Well. Good luck on whatever nonsense you’re up to. Not that I said that. Donotget me involved.” She twirls a hand under her books again. “And when you’re done being a wanted criminal, I’d better see you back here in classes again. You never finished your alchemy assignment.”
Hanya shakes her head one last time and disappears into the misty shimmers.
