He still sat on the moss floor, his back to the shelf, one of the bookwyrms still munching spiders out of his hair. His gaze dropping away from her, he gave a wave. “Go on. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She nodded and hurried from the shelf into the rest of the Library. Perhaps he still needed a minute or two to gather himself after the spiders. Or to let the bookwyrms finish eating all of those said spiders.
Another stab lanced her heart at that. She really shouldn’t have done that. It truly had been childish, and he certainly hadn’t deserved it, given it had reminded him of his captivity in the Court of Revels.
As she neared the atrium, where she could see the long lines of patrons stretched from the various master librarian tables, she squashed the guilt and all thoughts of Benedict.
She was a librarian with a job to do. Now wasn’t the time for figuring out just what was going on with a certain handsome fellow apprentice librarian.
Chapter Twelve
Beatrice found herself humming as she stepped from the Anywhere Door into the Hall, earning her a few glances from those around her.
Benedict’s apology yesterday didn’t erase the years when he’d been a boy tormenting her with pranks. But it eased some of the lingering hurt she’d had all these years.
In spite of the nicer version of Benedict, she still wanted to end the fated mate bond. After all, she wanted a choice. Nor had she planned on marrying quite this young.
But perhaps searching for the answer to breaking the mate bond wouldn’t be so bad, now that they’d found a better footing between them.
Then there was the memory of him defending her from the fae who had wanted to carry her off in the Market. Seeing him protecting her like that had squeezed her heart and fluttered in her stomach.
Not that she wanted to get flutters around Benedict of all people. But a few flutters were allowable, right?
Entering the Library, she made her way toward Basil’s table. He’d left for the Library extra early that morning, having wanted to go through a few of the books she’d set aside for him.
This early, only a few patrons lingered around the tables nearest the doors or wandered the shelves. As she made her way around the Tree, even that much bustle died away until, when she reached Basil’s desk, the quiet was deep enough for her to hear the rustle of his flipping pages.
Basil hunched over the book before him, one hand on the page, the other tousling the strands of his dark hair. His eyes flicked back and forth, his mouth moving in a silent murmur, as he was utterly absorbed in what he was reading.
She halted before his desk and cleared her throat. “I’m going to search a few more books until my shift starts.”
Basil looked up from the book before he straightened. “Yes. Of course.” He paused, his gaze still on her. Then he sighed. “Has Benedict been treating you all right? I know having both of you working under me has thrown the two of you together more than you’d prefer.”
“He’s been…” Heroic when he rescued her in the Market. Sweet when he gave her desserts. Vulnerable when he all but admitted to being tormented while held captive. “Strangely nice.”
Basil made ahmming noise, his fingers tapping on the book. “Just keep an eye on him, all right? With how strangely Demetrius and Nick Bottom have been acting, it casts suspicion on all of those who returned during that prisoner swap.”
Beatrice’s stomach sank, the flutters she’d been feeling all morning twisting into something more painful and sour.
Was Benedict’s change of heart just whatever strange phenomenon that had been afflicting those who had returned? What if it wasn’t real? What if it didn’t last?
“I’m being careful. Don’t worry about that.” Beatrice forced a smile as she began to turn away. “I’ll be back once my shift starts.”
Even as she made her way through the shelves, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to break.
Benedict sauntered into the Library,a new lightness to his step. Somehow, breaking down in front of Beatrice, even if he hadn’t been able to tell her what had happened to him, had lightened something inside him. As if some of the weight had lifted from his soul.
Pausing beneath the spreading branches of the Tree in the atrium, Benedict took in the bookwyrms scurrying between the shelves, the librarians and patrons hustling by the desks and into the sprawling Library, and the nobles of the court drifting throughout. Yet even with all the bustle, the Library remained muted and peaceful, the air filled with floral scents mixed with leather and paper. Butterflies danced among the branches of the Tree and throughout the shelves while flowers grew from the moss that carpeted the floor.
How he loved this Library. And today, it seemed all the more peaceful and wonderful.
Still strolling jauntily, he wound his way between the various shelves and patrons, a smile on his face. Yet when Benedict arrived at the circular shelves, he found them disappointingly empty.
No matter. He set to work searching the books, flipping through them more by rote than with any kind of intention.
When she appeared, a flutter of pink skirts and golden curls, it was without the normal spring in her step. Instead, shetrudged to the shelves, a bookwyrm in her arms in a sure sign she’d sought comfort from the Library.
“Is everything all right?” He studied her. After their breakthrough yesterday, he’d expected her to greet him with a smile, not a frown.
