Page 38 of Crown of Iron (The Crown Trilogy #1)
Twenty-Three
W ood scrapes along the floor, disrupting the silent room. I plant my finger on the yellowing page before me and glance up under my lashes. Leif flips the chair across the table from me around, straddles it, and rests his arms on the back.
“I recall someone saying she swore she wouldn't step foot in the palace library once she finished her studies with Borin,” he says. The candles on either side of the table flicker with a faint orange glow, brightening his lopsided grin.
I close the tattered tome I've spent hours reading, rest my elbow on top, and prop my chin in my palm.
I had vowed never to return to the library again, and I had every intention of keeping that promise.
This was where I spent almost all my childhood days, deep in studies with Borin.
He sent me off on assignments through the maze of floor to ceiling bookshelves, searching for the answers to his impossible questions.
When I grew tired of his scavenger hunts for information, I'd find a book about mythical creatures and lands far away and hide in corners and under tables, losing myself in other worlds.
Today I've skipped my favorite fictional stories for reality.
I tap my fingers on the golden embossed cover of the history book recounting Micah's and Esmeray's days leading up to the separation of the Pliris kingdom. “And I would have kept that promise if pieces of all those long-winded lessons weren't conveniently left out.”
“Do my ears deceive me or did the great Raelle Mansi just admit she doesn't know everything?”
“I do know you're annoying.” I toss one of the many balls of paper with my discarded theories about what Esmeray wants at his head.
“Speaking of people being annoyed.” Leif tosses the paper back at me before continuing, “Borin came into the billiards looking especially irritated last night. He and Micah spent a few minutes in a whispered exchange. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?”
I brush my blue feather quill over my lips and look up at the second-story walkway circling around the study area. “Borin and I had it out about Kyron after my family left. He has it in his head that something is going on between us.”
Leif leans in and drops his voice, saying, “Well, is there?”
“No. Yes. It's really complicated.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I know firsthand that anything involving you is complicated.”
“Yeah well, kissing Kyron last night didn't help matters.”
“I knew it!” He slaps the top of the table, and the ancient archivist in the corner glares at us over his thick-rimmed glasses. Dropping his voice, Leif continues, “Your little cozy ride in the carriage and the way you two kept flirting at dinner, it was bound to happen.”
I blow out a long, slow breath. “I don't know if it was the best idea.”
“You regret kissing him?”
My mind wanders back to the Omnis and the touch of Kyron's lips on mine.
That single, soft kiss breathed new life into me.
Everything was brighter and smelled sweeter.
The brush of his thumb over my knuckles as we walked back to the garden was like tiny zaps of electricity in my veins.
And when he wished me goodnight, his voice was a warm rumble vibrating in my chest until I fell asleep.
“No, I don't regret kissing him,” I say.
“It was amazing, more than amazing. It's the first time I've felt an intense spark kissing someone.
Not knowing that feeling made it easy to do the things I have to do.
I was blissfully ignorant, but now I don't think I can live without feeling that for the rest of my life.”
Leif places his hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “You know you don't have to go without it. I want you to be happy, just like you want me to be happy. You can fulfill all your commitments and still be in love, Elle.”
“Whoa,” I hiss pulling my hand away. “I didn't say I was in love. But I do have a strong need to kiss him again.”
“Call it whatever you want. All I'm saying is that you don't have to forfeit your happiness.”
It's difficult not to consider what people would say if I took Kyron as a lover. They won’t be quick to accept him.
It doesn't matter that he has led our soldiers in battles against the Stigians, that he has fought and bled to protect our way of life.
Most people will struggle to see past his transgressions that earned him his black-colored eyes.
“I can't do that to him, Leif. He has already overcome so much and earned the respect of his soldiers. How could I ask him to lower himself? People will see him as nothing more than the Stigian whore of the queen.”
“You can say you don't want to take a lover, but I don't think it's fair for you to make that decision for Kyron. He knows what he can and can’t handle and what he’s willing to sacrifice for you.”
“We haven't even been friendly for that long, and now we’re talking about making sacrifices?” I chuckle and look up at the glass dome in the center of the hand painted ceiling. “But I will admit that you and I having dinner dates in the banquet hall with Kyron and Wel would be interesting.”
Leif smirks and says, “I always thought the fun part would be when we retired to our separate rooms for the evening and the men we want to share our beds with sneak in late at night.”
My cheeks burn with the images of Kyron in my bed, his tan skin against my soft sheets and his hair mussed when he wakes up next to me. His naked body wrapped around mine. I want to experience that with him so badly.
I shift in my seat and run my fingers under the collar of my dress, pulling it away from my heated skin. “The rumors would be terrible,” I say.
“But would we be happy?” Leif's hazel eyes shine with a glint of hope.
It never crossed my mind how important it is to him that we both be happy, even if we accomplish it by unconventional means. “As happy as we can be within our circumstance,” I say.
Leif pulls on my arm, yanking me from my seat and dragging me over the table with my legs flailing behind me. I yelp in surprise as he pulls me into his arms and tightly hugs me. The tome falls to the floor with a thump, echoing throughout the library.
The archivist clears his throat, and Leif releases me saying, “Sorry, I'm sure you know how young love goes. She just can't keep her hands off me.” Leif turns to me with an exaggerated look of shock. “Please, Your Grace, I wish to keep my innocence until our wedding night.”
The archivist snorts. It would appear that even the elderly have heard about Leif's sexual escapades.
I hoist the book back onto the table, and Leif says, “What are you doing with that?”
“I was looking for clues, but it’s all so impersonal. You would think Micah would share his own account of the separation, but other than letters written to the people and transcripts of his speeches, I've found nothing in his own words.”
Leif points at the archivist. “Have you asked our studious friend over there?”
“I was hoping to stay inconspicuous and do it on my own.”
He walks around the table and guides me out of my chair. “Have you not learned anything from your time working with the army? Things are easier when you have help.” He gives me a gentle shove toward the old man bent over his workbench.
I bat his hand away and smooth the skirt of my dress as I approach the archivist. “Excuse me, sir.”
He looks up at me over the rim of his glasses. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“I was wondering if you could direct me to some scripts written by the king.”
“As in his personal journals?” he asks.
I clap my hands together in excitement and at the same time, I kick myself for not thinking of that first. “Yes!”
“The king remains in possession of his journals. They will be passed down to you upon his death, so he may continue to bestow his wisdom when he resides as one with the Statera. It will be at your discretion to give them to the library.”
“Of course,” I grumble and quickly change my tone when the archivist furrows his bushy, gray brows. “How very thoughtful of our king.”
He nods at that, and I march back to the table, gather my discarded scraps of papers, and toss them in the fireplace. Leif moves in beside me while I watch my theories burn. My efforts today were in vain, but at least I have a new course of action. I need to read Micah's journals.
When the paper is nothing but ash, I turn to Leif and say, “Looks like I won't settle very well into my new quarters tonight. I think a little midnight exploration will help with my unease.”
One side of Leif's lips pulls up, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Sounds like trouble.”
We smile and at the same time say, “The fun kind of trouble.”
A light tap comes from my door, and I crack it open in time to see a familiar muscular figure turn at the end of the dark hallway.
I wait for the click of Leif's footsteps to fade into the distance.
Everything is going to plan so far. Leif will watch and distract any of the guards who might find me wandering through the palace, while I'm busy with a little breaking and entering.
I ease out of my room and hurry down the corridor.
The floor is freezing under my bare feet, and my nightgown and matching robe of pale pink satin and delicate lace do little to ward off the cold.
The fancy sleeping attire is just one of the many pieces of the new wardrobe that awaited me when I moved into my quarters.
Not only must I act the part of future queen, but I must dress it as well.
I reach the section of the palace dedicated to the king and his daily duties and slow my steps.
This passageway is darker than the rest, with heavy crimson drapery and rich wood trimmings.
A storm rages outside, pelting rain against the windows and setting my nerves on edge.
With trembling hands, I reach inside the last sconces mounted to the wall before Micah's study and pull out a key.