“Maybe not. But it made me realize how awful I’d been back then.” He swallowed, still unable to look at her.
“It felt horrible at first, but don’t forget. I pranked you just as enthusiastically back.” Beatrice’s hand on his arm shifted as she shrugged. “It became almost fun after a while.”
“No, don’t minimize what I did to you. Don’t romanticize it or dismiss it.” He shook his head again, his shoulders slumped. “I was horrible, and I’m sorry for that. You were responding in kind because it was the only way to defend yourself. There’s a difference. Yes, my parents raised me to be like that, but that’s no excuse. It was cruel and wrong, and I understand now how awful it was. No one should hurt another person for entertainment.”
She didn’t speak for long moments, so long that he risked glancing at her. She stared straight ahead, although she hadn’t withdrawn her hand from his arm. Finally, she released a long breath. “Thank you for the apology. I never thought I’d hear it from you.”
“I know. Noble fae aren’t exactly known for recognizing our faults, much less apologizing for the wrongs we’ve done.” Benedict gave a harsh laugh. He well knew that his parents and brother would never apologize, and certainly would never apologize to a human.
“True.” Beatrice gave him a small smile. “Then again, most people, fae or human, aren’t great at recognizing when they’ve done wrong and apologizing sincerely for it, much less actually changing their ways. And from what I’ve seen lately, you’re doing all of that. It’s…impressive.”
Impressive enough that she would want to stay in the mate bond with him? He didn’t dare voice the question out loud.
“Thank you.” He finally raised his head, telling himself that he didn’t still sense the creeping, skittering, prickling feeling of spiders crawling down his spine. But he was on shift so he couldn’t just leave to wash and change clothes, much as he might wish to.
It was fine. He was fine. He had endured much worse in the form of illusions in Claudius’s dungeon.
A green bookwyrm poked its head from the bookshelf near Benedict’s head, its tongue flicking in and out. Swiveling to Benedict, the bookwyrm’s head darted forward, its nose a light bump on his shoulder, before it withdrew. It did it again before its tongue flicked over Benedict’s hair.
Eating the spiders. Benedict forced himself to relax and slouch more fully against the shelf behind him as another bookwyrm, this one yellow, appeared on his other side. “Thank you, bookwyrms, Library.”
“They probably feel as guilty as I do.” Beatrice’s gaze fell away from him again. “They helped gather the spiders.”
“It’s forgiven. Truly.” Forcing a smile, he turned to her more fully, reached into a pocket, and pulled out two of the sticky buns he’d transferred into his gray coat from the temporary green one. “After a moment like that, we need sticky buns before we get back to work.”
Beatrice took the sticky bun slowly. Instead of smiling, she stared at the dessert in her hand. “Now I really feel awful about the spiders.”
“Don’t.” Benedict bit into his sticky bun, the sweetness coating his tongue and banishing the last of the shakiness. He hadn’t had desserts in that dungeon. At a grumbly hiss, he broke off a couple of pieces and fed them to the bookwyrms.
“Still, let’s agree. No more pranks.” Beatrice continued to hold the sticky bun rather than eat it.
Benedict swallowed his bite before he spoke firmly. “No more pranks.”
He’d stick to that. No more swapping books out. Sure, he’d had the intention to innocently tease her more than prank her. But her reaction in gathering the spiders showed that she hadn’t taken it as mere teasing.
He would need to continue to do better where she was concerned. If he didn’t want to be like the fae who had tormented him there in that dungeon, then he would need to make a conscious effort to treat her with the dignity and respect she deserved.
Beatrice lickedher fingers of the last of the sticky bun as she side-eyed Benedict.
In the past few minutes, he’d been more real, more vulnerable, than she’d ever seen him. This was the Benedict beyond the smirks and pranks.
And it did something funny inside her chest. Something that was both pleasant and far, far too scary to name.
Worse, he’d apologized—sincerely apologized—for everything he’d done to her when they’d been children.
How was she supposed to keep Benedict of the Heart-Fluttering Smirk at arm’s length when he did stuff like apologize and give her desserts?
“There the two of you are.”
The voice made Beatrice jump. She swiveled to face the opening into the circle of shelves.
Rosaline, one of the other apprentice librarians, stood there, her brown hair long down her back. She glanced between Beatrice and Benedict, her brow slightly furrowed.
Beatrice could only guess at what conclusions Rosaline was making at finding Beatrice and Benedict sitting rather close to each other like that. Leaping to her feet, Beatrice brushed at her skirts, only to realize that her fingers were still sticky. She held out her hands to the bookwyrms for them to lick off. “Yes? You were looking for us?”
“The two of you have been assigned to Master Librarian Basil.” Rosaline spun and started walking away at a quick clip. “There’s a rush of patrons again.”
Beatrice took a step toward the exit of the circle shelf but halted and glanced over her shoulder at Benedict.
