Page 8
Tea in the afternoons with Nikoly became a regular occurrence. If Tiiran was anywhere but the table on the third floor where he went when he had work that needed to be done without interruption, Nikoly would find him with a cup, or a tray with cups and a plate of something to eat.
Sometimes, Tiiran continued his work, which Nikoly didn’t seem to mind, and sometimes Nikoly would offer a remark about something he’d seen that day—Agate springing off Po’s back, Niksa smiling about something, two kitchen assistants exchanging jokes while carrying pastries to the ovens—and Tiiran got to listen to Nikoly describe it. Nikoly didn’t use flowery language, but he told stories well, and when he laughed, Tiiran often laughed too.
Po had squinted at them once when they’d shared a look across one of the copying tables and Tiiran had erupted into snorting giggles. Tiiran had taken a moment the next day to bring her tea in case she was feeling left out since he and Nikoly had laughed together.
Po had kissed his cheek. Amie had come into the rest area some time afterward to find Tiiran still standing there with his hand on the side of his face.
The scent of tea also seemed to summon Mattin from wherever he was holed up, so Tiiran suggested scheduled afternoon tea breaks regardless of schedule, and everyone had approved, with Niksa even volunteering to go get food from the kitchens.
Tiiran’s eyes had met Nikoly’s at that while Tiiran had blushed hotly for no reason he could think of, and not even the surprise emergence of Toak from his office to ask what the noise was about could affect the warm feeling that followed Tiiran to his bed that night.
It was Toak’s only visit to the library in at least a fortnight, though perhaps he’d let himself into the library the night before and had fallen asleep in his office. He hadn’t been happy to immediately be hit with requests and questions about the work waiting on his desk. He’d marched out not long after that and had not returned since.
Tiiran had responded by taking more work from Toak’s desk and putting it next to Mattin. Mattin had pulled it in front of him without pausing in drinking his tea.
They left him to his extra work, though Nikoly replaced Mattin’s cups when they were empty, winking at Tiiran when Tiiran caught him at it.
“It’s not spring tea,” Nikoly explained one evening, his eyes on his work yet still noticing Tiiran glancing to Mattin in concern. “In the afternoons, I stop giving him spring tea in favor of lighter blends. He does need to sleep sometime.”
Tiiran exhaled in relief, then jerked his head up. “Do you do that with me too?”
Nikoly raised his eyebrows as he looked over. “Don’t you notice the different tastes? I assumed you had. You and Mattin really are twins born on different days.”
About to protest, Tiiran stopped to sniff the cup again, then sighed before finishing the cold dregs, something he had seen Mattin do more than once. Unlike Mattin however, he shuddered at the taste.
“I can get you more,” Nikoly offered.
Tiiran simply huffed in reply and went back to staring at accounting lists. “Thank you, though,” he whispered several moments later. “For thinking of our sleep. And, while I’m at it, for putting honey and cream in my spring tea. I don’t need it, but it does taste better that way.”
When he looked over, Nikoly’s head was down, his curls hiding his eyes but not his pleased smile. “Would Orin mind me serving you?”
Tiiran stared at him blankly. “He’d be pleased that I was remembering to eat more and resting, even though it’s not really me remembering. He’d probably thank you for it and suggest that I…” enjoy the handsome man bringing you food and tea, kitten . Tiiran snapped his mouth shut. “He would say I need more friends,” he began again, paying more attention to what was about to come out of his mouth. “He thinks I don’t take care of myself, not enough in the basic areas like rest and meals, and not at all in the extra ways, like….” His thoughts stalled.
“Like smelling some roses?” Nikoly filled in curiously.
“Like peeling myself an orange and arranging it nicely on a plate,” Tiiran corrected him quickly, only to pause. “And stopping near a garden to smell the flowers, yes.”
“Not in the garden?”
“The fae are in there,” Tiiran grumbled, positive he’d heard more tinkling laughter when he’d followed Orin’s order to visit the garden.
The fae were allegedly everywhere but Nikoly thankfully didn’t remind him of that.
“Well, you have your petals now at least. A thoughtful gift, from your large, clever outguard.”
“I’m worried the scent will fade,” Tiiran fretted aloud. “It will the more I open the pouch. I thought of getting some more petals and drying them, but I don’t know how.”
“The things that worry you,” Nikoly told him with another shake of his head that seemed fond, unless Tiiran imagined it. “I am sure some noble or healer at some point wrote a guide.”
“Several,” Mattin remarked out of nowhere. He didn’t raise his head. “I cannot vouch for the healing advice but the information on the drying of plants should be applicable. I can direct you to them if you wish. I’ve found some plant lore, and some copies of healing treatises, and some diaries and such, as well as….” Mattin stopped abruptly. He often did, as if anticipating people growing bored with him. “I’ll find them later for you.”
He’d forget. But now that Tiiran knew where to look, it didn’t matter. “Thank you!” he called over to Mattin. “If I had even half his knowledge….” he added quietly to Nikoly. “If I have time, I can read with purpose but I will never read as he does.”
“I will wager that he feels the same about your ability to see things through, or to understand that budget you’ve been glaring at.” Nikoly nudged him lightly.
“ You’ve been frowning over your work,” Tiiran huffed back at him. “And Mattin could understand accounting if he ever needed to learn how. He’s simply never had to watch his spending as others have.” He wondered if Nikoly had learned math for the sake of budgeting for his family’s business. “You get some money when you work in a noble’s house. But not enough to be able to move freely if you want to. Not in the houses I was in. You get paid to work, you see, but not as much as in other places because they also give you room and board. Which might sound nice until you notice it means you’re never really off-duty. Oh, they say you are, but if they are shorthanded or someone gets sick, they will find you and put you to work. Perhaps there are kind noble families, the kind who have guards happy to swear their lives to them.” Tiiran couldn’t imagine it, but it happened.
Nikoly stared back at him with wide eyes.
Tiiran rolled a wrist. “And if you don’t get along with someone, you’re still stuck working with them or, worse, often sharing a room with them. You might get clothing provided, but otherwise, you still need to pay for your own clothes to wear anywhere else. If you want to be able to leave your annoying roommate, or you are mistreated by the cook or Head of House, you have to be able to look for work elsewhere, which you cannot do in dirty scullery clothes. So you have to make your coin count, for that, or for anything else you might want. There was a cook’s assistant who sent coin to her family in the country,” he suddenly remembered that, and how he’d thought at the time that the nobles were supposed to ensure their people didn’t have to do that. That they had enough.
But some only gave their people enough and never anything beyond that. Some didn’t even bother with that much, too occupied with trying for a throne.
“Both houses I worked in served the staff plain food and never anything… never anything sweet or purely to feed ‘starving senses’ as Orin would say. It should be that if your belly is full and you’re in good health, then taste shouldn’t matter. But sometimes… sometimes, you see the things nobles get to eat—that their children and their heirs get to eat—or what people in the capital have on feast days and you wish….” Tiiran looked away. “But wishing is stupid. The fae don’t listen, and if they do, apparently they’ll still fuck with you.”
“It’s said that what they do is aways ultimately for the good of the person who wished.” From Nikoly’s gentle tone, he meant no offense, but Tiiran turned back to him and scoffed.
“Like leave a baby with no one to give a shit about it? They’re about as good as my human parent, whoever the fuck they are.”
“You don’t even know your human family?” Nikoly was shocked, then frowning like a thundercloud.
Evidently, no one abandoned children in his part of the country. Tiiran had heard that; some places took in unwanted children, especially the fae ones, though he did wonder if it was out of genuine concern for the children or a fear of offending the fae.
Tiiran did his best to be gentle; Nikoly was upset enough already. “They told me I was left on a noble’s doorstep and the noble’s family refused to open the door. But I think that was a fanciful story to tell a child. More likely, I was the child of a cook or a maid, or the child of a relative of theirs. Who knows? Who cares? They didn’t.”
Nikoly’s eyes were nearly as mournful as Mattin’s could be over spilled tea. Tiiran should have snapped at him, but that sadness was for Tiiran and said clearly that Nikoly thought he’d suffered. Which maybe he had, but that wasn’t Nikoly’s fault.
Tiiran slipped off the stool, bringing them closer. “It’s all right. Aside from being an alley cat with no manners, I turned out well enough, didn’t I? It’s not like you told people to abandon me. You would have been barely toddling about at the time anyway. You must have loving parents.” People with caring families were often confused by Tiiran. “And a sister—more than one sister?”
“Two.” Some of Nikoly’s sadness left him. “It’s not however you might think it is, having sisters. It’s more like your friendship with Po than anything else.” He smiled briefly when Tiiran shook his head in confusion. “I also have a half-brother, and several cousins who spent a great deal of time with us. They call me Lyli.” He paused expectantly.
“Not Ly like your friends call you?” Tiiran didn’t know why Nikoly sighed. “You must be very close to them. That’s probably why you get along better with the other assistants than I do. You grew up with people around your age, who liked you. Oh, I’ve made you look thunderous again.” Nikoly did, shooting a scowl toward the mostly empty copying tables before Tiiran touched his arm to draw his attention away. “There’s no need to be upset at them. It’s not their fault I don’t understand certain things. Ah, and now the thunder has given way to sadness. Or perhaps pity? Really, it’s not necessary.”
“I’m not pitying.” Nikoly was clipped and precise. “You were failed when you should have had family. You should have had friends, and help, and people who loved you.” He paused to take a breath before looking up again. “How did you end up here? How did you even know to ask to work at the library?”
“Oh.” Tiiran looked to the table, to Mattin, bent over his reading. He kept his voice low. “Lanth.” Nikoly obviously had not met Lanth but he would have heard her story in his time in the library. Tiiran could tell he had because he went very still. “She said she saw potential in me.” He turned back to Nikoly. “She was out at a tavern. She loved the library but she always said it was good to sit among people who weren’t librarians.” Orin would likely agree. “She saw me there, I was clearing tables and sweeping floors then, and she thought I should be educated. Which took some doing, since I didn’t know numbers or my letters at all. She had to tutor me in her spare time.”
Nikoly looked like Orin did whenever Tiiran spoke of Lanth; as if he read something else in Tiiran’s words no matter how simple and plain they were.
“I’m sorry for the loss of Lanth in your life,” Nikoly told him. “And for those who should have cared for you failing to do so. But—” Nikoly pulled in a deep breath “—you should know, I have seen fae with my own eyes—bless them. I have watched them take offerings and beheld a member of the fae when they spoke to a clan head—a position with my people that is like the head of a noble family, but not the head of the whole family, only one branch of it. You are also not the first fae-touched I have seen. But you are , Tiiran. You’re fae-touched. They will be near you even if you don’t see them. They must have a plan for you.”
Tiiran stepped back, bumping into the stool with a noise that brought Mattin’s head up.
Tiiran stared at Nikoly. Nikoly stared back without flinching.
“And… and what?” Tiiran demanded at last. “They left me to fend for myself? If the older cook assistants hadn’t been kind to me, I wouldn’t even have known what kindness was . I’d never even hugged someone until I asked Orin to allow me to try. All because the fae are bashful? Because they have some plan for me but would rather not get involved? Fuck them!”
He couldn’t handle the worried furrow of Nikoly’s brow. “Which isn’t your fault,” Tiiran added, only slightly quieter. “You meant well. But I am never going to thank them for anything. Ever ,” he growled at the air around Nikoly before focusing on Nikoly again. “If I’m fae-touched, it’s probably just my destiny to be something an important beat-of-four uses as a step stool to do something great. A cog in a gear at a mill.”
Nikoly was suddenly directly before him, his hands raised as if he was about to cup Tiiran’s face to hold him still and had barely stopped himself. “You’re far more important than that. Must I make you see it? Will it take two of us?”
“Nikoly.” Tiiran was surprised to hear himself whispering. “I’m not important. That’s Master Keepers or beat-of-fours. Or the ruler, I suppose. The library is important. It’s been here as long as the country has, you know. I’m just working here for a while… my whole life, probably.” Though he’d never seen an older assistant. They tended to become Master Keepers, or return to merchant life, or become scholars with noble patrons. But nothing said Tiiran couldn’t stay forever if he wanted to. He only had the library. Not a future.
Though a future might include an office in the library someday, if Tiiran worked hard and the library remained standing.
As if he had already considered that fate for Tiiran, Nikoly spoke earnestly. “You’re the only reason the Great Library is still functional. Mattin is wonderful, but he’s no administrator. You’re the Head of House here.”
Tiiran opened his mouth but not a single sound emerged. He did not even think he breathed. He had only just considered the possibility of an office, yet Nikoly imagined the library safe and under his supervision.
“ Nikoly ,” he exhaled at last, beyond shocked. “I’m nobody.”
Nikoly narrowed his eyes. “Ask anyone here and they would say they believe you can do it. Some would even say you’re already doing it.”
Tiiran’s heart kicked against his ribs.
“It’s dangerous to reach for things,” he managed. Orin would be so pleased to find him cautious.
Nikoly glanced to the side, possibly to Mattin, studiously working or ignoring any rash statements. He set his shoulders before turning back. “Only in these times.”
Rulers didn’t care that much about the goings on in the library. But Tiiran had a feeling that breaking with tradition now, when it was all some rulers had to try to keep their thrones—and heads—would not be excused.
“In any times,” Tiiran informed him softly, realizing only once he’d said it that he was grasping the front of Nikoly’s robe. “With many Master Keepers within these walls, there would be politics here too, and traditions to be followed.”
Nikoly looked ready to argue. A strange experience; Tiiran was usually the one with forceful words on his tongue.
“But thank you,” he added, warmth moving through him at the realization that Nikoly’s anger was on his behalf. “It’s a pretty dream, isn’t it? I try not to have those. But I might keep that one, just for myself. You won’t speak of it to the others? For your own safety, you won’t? There are eyes-and-ears in the library too. Orin is always reminding me.”
Nikoly pulled back, then raised his head. He did not look pleased, but he nodded once jerkily, before taking another step away. He returned to frowning at his work a moment later. Or at least, he returned to frowning. Tiiran couldn’t say for certain where his mind was.
Perhaps that was why, although he knew it was foolish, Tiiran took several copies of beat-of-four histories to his room with him that night, and why he spent the next day frowning over words in the Old Tongue that were used everywhere without anyone knowing their meanings. Some scholars claimed to, but Tiiran wondered. After all, if anyone truly knew the origin of the names of the noble families, would they have cut them up into bits and pieces and glued them back together into names of four beats? Those names were gibberish.
Which said a lot about nobles. Not that everyone else was any better. Nearly everyone had names that had their origins in the Old Tongue, supposedly to honor dead loved ones or history. Yet for all anyone knew, Piya meant chair. Or snake. Or cowardly do-nothing—which at least was appropriate. Mattin might mean daisy the way Po would insist it did. The infamous Arden of the Canamorra might have a name that meant nothing more than sharp . Tiiran could have been the word for spoon which was far more likely than his name meaning something poetic like whirlwind .
For two nights, Tiiran carried on in such a way. To be a Master Keeper meant a working knowledge of the noble histories, and he had a great deal to learn.
The third night, he startled awake to Nikoly holding a lamp and glaring furiously down at him. The lamp above the table had gone out while Tiiran had been reading… sleeping, his head pillowed on the opened book on top of several other volumes all marked with slips with paper covered in Mattin’s bright inks that Tiiran had borrowed.
“Um,” Tiiran mumbled, swallowing to wet his dry mouth, “why are you still here?”
“Why are you still here?” Nikoly was not pleased. “Po caught me as I was heading to my room and mentioned she’d locked up but hadn’t seen you.”
“So you came to get me?” Tiiran asked muzzily, sure Po should not have given her key to an assistant who had been there less than a year. “Why?”
“The kitchens are closed.” Nikoly was so stern, Tiiran nearly apologized before he remembered he didn’t have anything to apologize for.
“Many librarians have wound up spending a night in here,” Tiiran argued. “Or forgetting a meal. It’s not a crime.”
“I suspect if I mention the damage this does to you, you wouldn’t care.” Nikoly didn’t lessen his glare. “So I will mention what might get through to you: what would your outguard say if he found you like this?”
“He’s not my—” Tiiran sat all the way up, more of his joints protesting, which said his posture before he’d fallen asleep had been truly horrible. “He would threaten to put me over his knee,” Tiiran muttered, then sucked in a breath and shot to his feet so fast his head swam.
Nikoly caught his arm to steady him, or so Tiiran thought until Nikoly had already urged him out from behind the table and out toward the stairs. Nikoly must not have heard Tiiran’s remark, or maybe had but hadn’t understood it. Tiiran clung to that hope all the way down from the dark third level to the even darker first, and when Nikoly led him into the rest area and let him go just to inform him that he had writing on his face again.
“ The will to claim the length of the land ,” Nikoly read aloud, the lamp nearly blinding between them.
“Someone speaking of the first ruler,” Tiiran explained.
Nikoly studied him solemnly, which was when Tiiran finally took a good look at him. Nikoly was not in a robe or clothes meant for the library. He had been out of the palace again most likely. Emerald green suited him.
Tiiran dropped his gaze the moment their eyes met, although he didn’t think Nikoly could see his eye color in this light.
“I can get that for you,” Nikoly offered, already putting down the lamp and turning toward the cabinet for a washing rag.
Tiiran’s tongue was suddenly thick. “Really, Nikoly.” Nikoly’s sigh wasn’t called for. “No, no, you don’t need to heat water. Cold water and a scrub will do. If not, I can use solvents in the morning.”
Nikoly stood tall in front of him, then cupped Tiiran’s jaw in one hand before bending to examine the ink. He exhaled, his breath warm and smelling faintly of cider.
“Did you have fun in the capital?” Tiiran was quiet, his voice growing even lighter at the first slow pass of the wet rag over his cheek.
“Would you like to join me there?” Nikoly asked, eyes on his work, which was good, since he was so close that Tiiran had to shut his eyes or grow dizzy watching him.
“Really,” Tiiran tried again. Exhaustion was making him slow, leaving him to blush where Nikoly could feel it and turn his head to allow him to work instead of protesting with more force. “A hard scrub would only be uncomfortable for a moment.”
“And yet you told me Orin was gentle with you.” Nikoly’s breath made Tiiran shiver.
“I did?” Tiiran couldn’t seem to remember any such conversation. Nikoly moved his free hand, sliding it into Tiiran’s hair to tug his head up. Tiiran… really should frown about it. But the pin was already loose and Nikoly’s touch wasn’t painful.
“Even if he does also want to put you over his knee.”
What went down Tiiran’s spine was too strong to be called a mere shiver. He opened his eyes, then promptly shut them again.
“He gets—ah—upset with me for not taking care of myself, as he sees it.”
“As anyone would see it, Tiiran most worthy.”
Tiiran blinked his eyes open and tried to meet Nikoly’s gaze but Nikoly seemed focused on his careful, gentle work. “You said that before. Does it mean something?”
“Yes.” Nikoly was silent so long, Tiiran thought that was meant to be his entire answer. “The Rossick do not have sworn guards the way many other noble families do. Some who are not of the Rossick are loyal to them and choose to serve them, but the Rossick have others within the family who swear to them as protectors, as watchdogs and helpers, as eyes-and-ears. But they don’t swear to protect the entire family as sworn guards do. They serve one or two chosen family members only. They’re not ordered to do this by tradition or by the head of the family. They do it because they want to. Because they feel that person, or persons, is worthy of it.” Nikoly exhaled heavily, almost wistfully. “I told you my mentor would admire how you work, and by that I meant, if you were Rossick, you would have people sworn to you as she does. They would be eager to.”
Tiiran turned his head, not giving a fuck about the wet cloth or the ink on his skin. “I’d accuse you of lying, but I can’t think of why you would.”
Nikoly glanced to him, then let his attention linger. “Orin is a patient man, I think.”
Tiiran frowned. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything you just said. But maybe I’m more tired than I thought. Oh, I left those books up there! I should…”
“They will be there when you return at dawn.” Nikoly put the rag on the counter and picked up the lamp again. “You should sleep.”
Tiiran was having trouble following him tonight. “Yes, but…”
“What would Orin say if he were here and saw you heading to bed this late, under protest?” Nikoly put a hand to Tiiran’s back to gently, firmly, nudge him from the room and toward the library doors. “Over his knee again?”
“Possibly,” Tiiran admitted, uncertain why, but it was too dark for his blushes to be seen. “Which is more of his teasing, so you know. He hasn’t…. That is… we don’t.” He pulled in a breath. “Orin is not my lover.” His voice was strange.
Nikoly looked at him, but said nothing while Tiiran fumbled for his key to lock the doors behind them. Nikoly had a key of his own at the moment, but Tiiran didn’t remark on it, glad to be looking away.
“But what would he say to find you like this? Exhausted, alone, hungry, getting stares from palace guards?” Nikoly asked that last part in a whisper.
“He would sigh and tell me to get myself something extra at breakfast, something only for me and no one else in the library. Or to leave early tomorrow night. Or both.”
“And you do what he tells you?” Nikoly’s voice was also strange, low and strained. “Tiiran, who obeys only the ruler and that only reluctantly, obeys one particular outguard?”
“Shh.” Tiiran bumped into Nikoly’s side. “No talk of rulers! And I… I do what he tells me because it makes him happy, and that….”
“Makes you happy?” Nikoly filled in, soft.
“Not happy ,” Tiiran clarified. That would be too strange. “It makes me feel without tangle . And sitting in a garden or eating a meal is a small thing to give Orin to make him speak warmly.” He stopped walking. Nikoly stopped a second after him, glancing around in alarm before seeming to realize Tiiran’s arms were crossed as Tiiran stared hard up at him. “If you laugh, I’ll throw you out of the library myself.”
Nikoly’s head went back, then slightly to the side. “Why would I laugh?”
“Oh.” Tiiran waited, then uncrossed his arms. “All right. But don’t tell the others. Po already teases me for it. And I know you heard what those outguards said, but it’s not like that, even if I… it’s just a game Orin and I play.”
“A game,” Nikoly echoed. “And in this game that many people happen to play, in and out of their bed sport, what does Orin do if you obey? If you sit in gardens, and eat meals, and allow yourself small pleasures like keeping the scent of roses near, or eventually place yourself in his lap?”
“Nikoly!” Tiiran exclaimed, stirring one of the palace guards falling asleep at his post some distance away. Tiiran crossed his arms again just to do something. “The things Orin suggests for me to do are all things I want to do, even if I don’t know it at the time!”
“You said he was observant.” Nikoly froze Tiiran in place, then returned to his side to put his palm to Tiiran’s shoulder to urge him on. “To be ordered about in that manner is something many people want.” He said many people in a particular way.
“Yes,” Tiiran spat with sudden, though fleeting anger, “in and out of bed sport, you said.” His exhaustion must be catching up with him because his body was heavy. “I am not his duckling. You would make a much better duckling than I. You’re many things I’m not: good with people, handsome, skilled at things outside of copying books.”
“Is this the way to your room?” Nikoly let Tiiran take a few more steps, turning off a corridor to head down another one, and followed him without acknowledging Tiiran’s words. Tiiran nodded, having walked this way more than once with no conscious choice of direction, letting his tired feet carry him to the right place.
“You’re good ,” Tiiran continued to explain to him, sliding his back against the door to his room and raising his head.
Nikoly’s lips were parted. He stood close, the lamp down at his side in one hand, his other hand hovering over Tiiran’s shoulder. “Am I?”
“You would do as you were told,” Tiiran decided, briefly dizzy when Nikoly smiled. “Not that you’d need to be told to feed yourself or rest.”
Without the lamp close, Nikoly’s eyes were dark. “I can be told to do other things. And perhaps it makes me happy to hear you say that I am good for doing so. Perhaps I want to please you as you want to please your Orin.”
The wood of the door behind Tiiran was solid enough to keep him upright, which was fortunate, because he was suddenly lightheaded.
“The others respond better to teasing than I do,” he answered at last, with no idea how much time had passed since Nikoly had last spoken. “If you are teasing.” Tiiran did not think of Fial. “I never know how to take it. I never know… if people mean it or not.”
Nikoly took a step back. “I’m beginning to see Orin’s problem.”
“Problem?” Tiiran raised his head, his vision swimming. “Orin doesn’t have a problem. You don’t even know him.”
Nikoly held up a hand. “I misspoke.”
“Probably the late hour is to blame… or whatever you had while you were out in the capital.” Tiiran drew himself up. “But I wouldn’t know anything about,” fun in the capital, pleasing others, “ that . Nor do I need to know.”
“Tiiran.”
Tiiran didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll be up early. I should try to get some sleep. Thank you for waking me. Although I really was fine. I don’t even understand why you’d worry, to be honest. That… doesn’t make sense. You worrying for me.”
“ Honeybee .”
“Good night .” Tiiran turned away from Nikoly altogether and fumbled with the handle on the door until it opened. Once inside, he closed it behind him, making slightly too much noise, but there were no assistants in any of the rooms near him, or sharing his with him, so only Nikoly might be bothered. “Which is not a problem ,” he muttered to himself, but stayed by the door to listen in case Nikoly spoke again.
He heard nothing, not even footsteps.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8 (Reading here)
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
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- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
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- Page 26
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- Page 28
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- Page 37