Page 25

Chapter Twenty-Two

B riony

Mate – what the hell does that mean?

Despite what everybody at the academy seems to believe, us Slate kids did receive some sort of education. I’m not dumb. I can read. I can write. I even know my twelve times table.

I understand the definition of the word mate.

Partner – more specifically a sexual partner.

Is that what everyone is referring to? Maybe some thralls don’t sleep with their protectors – they’re too busy cutting their toenails for them or changing their sheets.

Maybe only thralls who satisfy their protectors in other ways earn this title.

It’s just, the way they are all talking about it makes me think there is another different, alternative meaning I’m not party to.

Just like firestones, another thing I don’t understand.

I could ask my friends. I could even ask Beaufort himself. But I’m fed up with being the ignorant one. Knowledge is power and right now everyone else appears to be in a much more powerful position than me. I want to be better armed.

Later that evening, I make my way to the library, hoping with every bone in my body that there are no romantic rendezvous happening in there tonight. Also hoping the library doesn’t still hate my guts.

The building is dark when I arrive and silent as I step inside. I peer into the gloom and take a deep inhale.

“Good evening, Library,” I announce, feeling just as silly as last time talking into an empty room. “I know it’s late and I’m very sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

Above me the grand chandelier flickers on and bathes the library in a warm, welcoming light. I take that as a good sign and continue.

“I need to find out about mates.” The chandelier spins on its chain and the books vibrate on the shelves.

The library is listening to me. “You see, I’m sort of in this relationship with these guys.

” I tuck loose hair behind my ear and shift from one foot to the next.

“They picked me out as their thrall, but now it seems there is more to it than I first thought. They keep referring to me as their mate and I really need to understand what the hell that means.”

The chandelier flickers on and off above my head and I have the distinct suspicion that the library is going to turf me out. Maybe my request wasn’t intellectual enough.

But then a book comes hurtling over the shelves. It lands with a thump on the polished floor and skids across it, crashing right into my toes.

I stare down at it dumbfounded, as the cover flops open and the pages flip over, halting suddenly. I wait a moment and when nothing more happens, I crouch down and cautiously scoop the book up into my arms.

At the top of the page is a title embossed in gold.

Fated mates .

I drop down onto my backside, legs crossed and settle the book into my lap. Then I get to reading, devouring everything I can find on the topic in this book.

When I’m done my mind is spinning. It’s answered a lot of questions and given me a whole heap more.

Fated mates – couples, throuples and even quadruples brought together and bound together by destiny. Their connection intense, irresistible and often unbreakable.

Do the princes truly believe I am their mate? Do they feel such a connection?

Do I?

My head spins even more because maybe I do. Maybe this is the force that has been pushing me towards them even when I’ve hated, feared and mistrusted them.

I lay my hand on my heart and try to breathe, forcing myself to think straight.

The book says there are signs that prove people are fated mates.

As far as I know, as far as I’m concerned, none of those signs apply to us.

Sure, they turn me on, sure I find it hard to resist them, but that could be because they’ve done a very good job at seducing a lonely girl.

They could simply be messing with my head.

I blow my air from my lungs, puffing away all the confusion.

They don’t know about the firestone in my possession. To them, I am nothing more than a commoner girl from Slate. Which reminds me …

As I’m here, and the library is in a cooperative mood, there’s more I need to find out about.

“Thank you, Library,” I say. “That was just the book I needed. It was extremely illuminating. I am now much better informed.” The lights flicker in a manner I take means the library is pleased with that little compliment.

“Now, do you think you could help me with another topic? I’d be really grateful. ”

The chandelier above me spins and the shelves seems to vibrate with excitement. The library seems to like helping me after all.

“I need to learn about firestones.”

Like before the shelves start to spin, books flutter up to the ceiling, then descend back down to the shelves again.

I get the impression this request is a harder one to answer.

However, after a few more minutes, I have a pile of different books by my feet.

One looks like a children’s fairytale book, one an encyclopedia and the others are volumes on historical events.

I flick through each in turn and soon I understand why my second request was more difficult. There’s no definitive answer like there was about fated mates. The historical accounts disagree as to what firestones were, what they could do and if they ever existed in the first place.

I may have a better understanding of fated mates – even if the entire thing seems incredible to me. But firestones? I’m no clearer at all.