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Chapter Thirty-One: Rhea

The library in the palace is absolutely breathtaking. Deep brown wooden bookcases line the walls from floor to ceiling, only broken up by three large arched windows, their points decorated by blooming flowers of different sizes and colors. Vines grow on the wall around them and work up to the corners where they meet the ceiling, some even stretching across to the other side of the massive space. On the right, passageways between the bookshelves lead to a maze of different aisles. Small wooden signs with cursive script identify the different genres and subjects, and ladders attached to metal rods aid in seeing the books on the top shelves. With the living vines and bobbing glass balls of spelled flame that float in the air, it is the kind of library that feels like it should exist only in a fairytale.

The scent here is familiar, like leather and old paper, though there’s also something unique mixed in—woodsy and fragrant. A small pang of yearning hits me for my library in the tower, the only place from that prison worth missing.

When Nox told me this morning we would be venturing to the library, I was hesitant to leave the comfort and safety of his room. Especially after learning from him that not only had the council of advisors been summoning Nox since we arrived from the Mortal Kingdom, but also that he had been ignoring their calls. His father had come to speak with Nox briefly about it while I had been washing in the shower. He told me they were currently occupied in a meeting with the king, so we didn’t have to worry about them finding us here.

My eyes are still wide with wonder as Nox leads me around a corner and between the aisles, the signs identifying these bookcases as ones filled with works of nonfiction. I wrinkle my nose, something he notices and chuckles at.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. I think we’re heading to the romance section, but I’ve never actually ventured to that part of the library before,” he says quietly. My smile widens, and I lean into him, kissing his arm. “Tomorrow, we should meet with my parents. If only to discuss what we should do with the council.”

Though I nod at his casually spoken words, I can’t help but tense. It feels easy to rejoice how wonderful it is to be out of the tower, to not have to worry about the watchful eye of my uncle and to move about freely. But with the council wanting to question Nox—question me —my freedom seems more of an illusion. Maybe it is foolish to worry that it might be a recurring theme in my life, but I find myself silently hoping that it won’t be. That there might be a day where I can walk about the palace, the kingdom, whenever I want without fear of someone questioning who or what I am.

Deep in the labyrinth of shelves, Nox finally finds the books dedicated to love stories. The minimal natural light that had blanketed the library near the entrance is non-existent here. Instead, floating flames in glass bowls bob in the air above us, making the center of the space glow yellow while the corners of the shelves still hold shadows.

“I’ll give you time to look around. I’m going to go say hello to Rayna, the main librarian here. The old bat gets cranky when she knows I’m back home and haven’t checked in with her.”

“Okay, take your time.”

His lips find mine, that spark of heat that’s always present near him flaring to life for a moment before he pulls himself away with a quiet groan. His steps are nearly silent against the thick rugs, and I watch him go until he rounds a corner and is out of view. Blowing out a breath to cool myself, I turn and examine the books in front of me as I tuck my unbound hair behind my ears. The selection is overwhelming, and I’m not sure how much time passes as I browse, only that, eventually, I have a stack of eight books in my arms.

I try to backtrack to the front of the library, but with how similar the shelves look and the overwhelming number of aisles, I quickly get turned around. My heart pounds soundly against my ribcage as a familiar tension begins to creep into me. I’m not in the tower. I’m not in the tower. I can’t explain why or how quickly it rises—the fear. Fear of being trapped and left here, even if I know it’s a library and not a stone prison. Fear that I’ll be found by someone who wants to take me back to my uncle.

My throat grows tight, and my chest compresses as air trickles to my lungs. Stumbling over my sandals, my feet still clearly not used to being dressed, I smack my shoulder into one of the bookcases, and all of the books I’m holding go flying, scattering onto the floor in front of me. My hand trembles as I bring it to my chest, the frantic racing of my heart making it heave.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

Whipping my head around, I meet the gaze of a woman with copper hair, the color exaggerated by the spelled flame she’s standing under. Her gray eyes move quickly to the carnage of books on the floor and then back to me, pausing on my shaking limbs. Before I can respond to her question, she kneels beside my mess.

“I’m always stumbling into things. Especially when I don’t have my glasses on.” She doesn’t look back to me but, instead, points to the glasses on her face as if I wasn’t aware of where they were. One by one, she stacks my books up by her knees. “My parents say it’s because I have a bad habit of reading while walking, but sometimes a book is too good to put down, you know?”

I try to slow my breathing down, remembering all the times that Nox has helped me do it. In and out. In and out .

“And because I walk everywhere , I have a lot of time to kill. So why not get lost in the pages of made up worlds and fantastical characters?” she continues, picking up a blue leather-bound book, the title embossed in gold over a picture of two people kissing. The woman gasps loudly and turns to me. “Have you read this one?”

The fog that had been clouding me seems to part enough for me to at least shake my head in answer.

“Oh, it’s incredible! It’s about a princess who falls in love with the captain of her guard, and they have to hide their romance, but she’s also forced to be betrothed to her best friend, and then the friend betrays her and nearly kills the guard, and—” The woman sucks in a breath, a look of annoyance on her face as if offended that she’s interrupted her own explanation of the book to do so. “Anyways, chapter thirty-two will absolutely make you sob . Full on crying with snot and everything.” Standing with my books now stacked in her arms, she turns to me fully, her round black glasses sliding down her nose.

“Thank you,” I mumble, reaching out for the books.

“No problem. Are you new here? I’ve never seen you in the library before. Not that I know everyone , but I spend a lot of time here, and I’m pretty sure I would remember you.”

I stare at her, the weight of the books in my arms making my shoulders round. A few awkward seconds tick by before I clear my throat. “Yes. I’m new to the palace.” My eyes widen at what I’ve said, how I’m admitting to this stranger that I’m not from here. Scrambling, I blurt out possibly an even worse admission. “I mean, I’m new to the kingdom.” For the love of the gods, Rhea. The woman’s brows draw together, her pert nose wrinkling in confusion. My mouth opens and closes three times before I finally settle on, “I mean , I’m new to Galdr.”

Her laugh is light as she shakes her head. “It’s okay! Sometimes I talk faster than my brain can keep up with. Want me to walk with you to the front desk? It can feel like a maze in here until you get familiar.”

Nerves cause my palms to sweat, but I force out a shaky reply, “Alright.”

The woman smiles wide, a small gap showing between her two front teeth. “I’m Elora, by the way.”

“I’m Rhea.”

It feels like we endlessly turn corners, books all blurring together and the signs identifying them ranging from Queens of the Mage Kingdom to The Care of Flowers and Fauna and a particularly jarring section titled Death and Creation: Where Do We Come From? which only housed a few books on a single shelf.

I keep a half step behind, my gaze continually sliding towards her even at the risk of tripping again. Elora is dressed in comfortable-looking clothes: loose tan cotton pants and a white button-up shirt that is tucked into the front, the back billowing out. Though the outfit is casual, it does nothing to hide her voluptuous curves underneath them. Her sandals are similar to my own, strappy and black. When I catch her watching me, I scramble for something to say— anything that will help me not seem so awkward. So out of place.

“So, do you like to read a lot of romance novels?” she asks, saving me from myself.

“I do. They are my favorite. So much better than the boring history books N—” I make a heinous choking noise to interrupt myself before I say Nox’s name, heat rising up my neck and face.

Elora laughs again right as we finally break free of the labyrinth of books and approach two light-colored wooden desks that are set in front of the large square window, the forest beyond a thickly woven sea of trees. Vases of small flowers in dark purple and blue dot the front corners of each desk.

“I don’t mind reading some of our older tomes that talk of magic and life centuries ago—before the Spell and war. The newer stuff, however…” Elora shivers from whatever she deems unfit about those texts. “Anyway, I can check out the books for you.” She rounds one of the desks, the other occupied by an older woman—her hair white as snow and tanned face set in deep wrinkles—who must be Rayna. She hums to herself as she flips casually through the pages of a book, not sparing Elora or I a single glance.

I grunt as I set my books on the desk, making the vases shake. Elora opens a small drawer, pulling out a pen and a large notepad. The pages are lined, scribblings of what I think are names and possibly titles of books written on each one. She takes a seat at the desk, writing the titles of my books and giving me little summaries of each one and what chapters were her favorite—an odd number of them involve her being brought to tears.

“Okay, Rhea, what is your last name?”

I swallow, my eyes flicking to hers. I don’t know if I should give my real last name, but I hadn’t even considered asking Nox about creating a fake one. Should I have given a fake first name? She tilts her head expectantly as she watches me, her pen lifting from the paper so as not to make the ink dot that had grown while she was waiting any bigger.

“Just put it under my name.” His voice immediately relaxes my shoulders and ushers in a deeper inhale.

Elora’s eyes widen, her mouth comically falling agape. “His Highness. I mean, Your Highness , Prince Nox. What are you doing here? Sorry, what am I saying? You can be here whenever you want!”

Elora laughs again, the noise higher pitched as her cheeks turn bright pink, nearly drowning out the freckles that dot her fair skin. Nox sets two books down on the desktop, his arm wrapping around my low back with his hand resting on my hip. Elora’s eyes grow impossibly larger, moving from me to Nox’s hand and then back to me.

“You two—”

“Elora, stop gawking at them and give them their books!” the older woman chastises, not even looking up from her own book.

“Right.” Elora pinches her lips together, flicking her plaited copper hair over her shoulder as she writes out the titles for Nox’s additional books as well as his name. “There. You guys are all set!”

Nox grabs all eight of my books, shooting me an incredulous look at the amount I have chosen.

“Rhea,” Elora says, standing from her chair and walking to the side of the desk, her hands sliding into the pockets of her trousers. “If you ever want to talk about books, I’m here most days. If I’m not here, I’m at our bookstore in the central shopping square. It’s called The Overflowing Bookshelf. If you are ever free, I mean. I’m sure you’re probably busy most of the time.” Her eyes dart to where Nox is waiting a few steps behind me.

I study her face, her smile genuine while her gray eyes sparkle with an eagerness that makes me want to say “yes.” To try —as Selene suggested and as Alexi and Bella would want—to live a life worthy of their sacrifices.

“I would like that,” I say, and I mean it.