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The fairy who greeted me earlier is back, lurking just over my shoulder.

“Are you spying on me?” I accuse, my voice a whisper.

He gives me a shrewd look, standing even taller. “The King of the Night has requested I make myself indispensable to his mate.”

Uh-huh.

“He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Way to go, Callie. Tell your would-be stalker that no one knows where you are.

He tilts his head. “But doesn’t he?”

Fairies have this weird doublespeak I’m starting to get the hang of. This one is pretty clear. Translation: Better check your facts, lady, because he totally does know where you are.

So Des is keeping tabs on me, and he sent Would-Be Stalker to help me.

I reassess the fairy at my side. “Callie,” I finally say, holding out my hand.

He stares at it for a beat before delicately clasping it in his own. “Jerome.” His gaze moves to the book in my other hand. “Are you looking for anything in particular to read?” he asks.

“Just browsing,” I say. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“Perhaps you’d enjoy a different section of our library—unless you’re worried about curses.”

“Curses?” I repeat.

Stoically, he says, “The book you’re looking at deals with curse-caused ailments—particularly those that cause hemorrhoids, unexpected bowel movements—”

Jesus.

I close the book and return it to its shelf.

A thought comes to me. “Do you have any books on the king?”

***

Several hours later I sit at one of the tables, a stack of biographies and histories of the realm next to me.

Some of the books were originally written in English, the colloquial language of the Otherworld, but the book I currently have open was originally written in Old Fae. When he pulled it from the shelves, Jerome spelled it to read in English. It’s a strange sight; every time I turn the page, Fae letters dance and morph into English ones.

As for the content of the book…it is equally intriguing. I feel like a thief in the night, learning Des’s family history without his knowledge.

He would’ve done the same thing had roles been reversed.

My finger moves over the text. It describes yet another battle Des fought in. Like most of the others, this one took place on the Borderlands, the area where, according to this book, “day meets night.”

And like all the other battles mentioned, the book discusses how swiftly Des cut down his opponents and how courageously he fought.

I begin to skim over the battles. It’s not that I’m unimpressed, but after reading about the umpteenth person getting brained, the glory of the fight is a little lost on me.

Several pages later, I close the book. I’m not sure what I expected to find—perhaps some insight into who Des the Night King really is—but I should’ve known better. So far, all the books seem scrubbed of all interesting and relevant information.

All I’ve really learned is that Des has been a revolutionary king, dragging the Kingdom of Night from the dark ages (pun unintended) to be not just one of the leading realms but also one of the most enlightened, a title that had traditionally belonged to the Kingdom of Day.

I’ve also learned that before Des was a king, he was a soldier, as the last book so eloquently (graphically) described.

Other than that, there’s precious little about my mate.