Page 10 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I grimace apologetically. Talya shakes her head, laughing lightly.

“Well, Mr. Marston felt horrible and mentioned how Lilly is now ‘of age,’” she says in a mocking tone before grasping my hands in hers and squeezing so hard my joints pop.

“She apparently cares deeply for Sebastian—it seems the two of them shared more than one dance at her coming out ball—so now the two of them are engaged, and the Marstons are going to donate an amount equal to her dowry to the archives—and that’s not even the best part! Father said he’llgive me the next year to learn how to handle the books under his supervision before he retires and leaves me in charge of running this place!” Talya finishes in a rush that leaves her nearly breathless in her barely contained excitement.

I couldn’t be happier for Talya and even Sebastian.

“That’s fantastic, you’ve wanted this for so long.” I pull her in for a hug.

“Just think, if Sebastian and Lilly hadn’t danced together, Father might have given all this to him, leaving me stuck at home raising Henry’s children. Don’t get me wrong, he’s nice enough, but he’s as much fun as a soggy piece of bread.” Talya releases a long breath and leans against the bookcase. “I’ve never been so glad for two people to believe in love at first sight.”

My friend doesn’t have a romantic bone in her body.

A wicked grin spreads over her lips. “Now we can keep working together, and I will get to be the best aunt ever and play with his children anytime I want, filling them up with loads of sugar before sending them home.”

The Byron family has run the archives for generations. While Sebastian never complained about the work, he also never took to it the way Talya had. For him, it was a family business. An obligation that was simply a part of life. She implemented new systems to catalog the books more efficiently, making them easier to find based on subject matter and titles.

The three of us practically grew up together. They were like the siblings I never had. As children, we would play among the stacks and pretend to work, though we mostly created more work for Sebastian.

Talya loves being at the archives more than anywhere else in the world. Once we were old enough, we joined herbrother. He tortured us relentlessly the first year, paying us back for all the trouble we used to cause.

It wasn’t long before she convinced her father to hire me to restore and rebind worn books. I suspect he initially agreed to it due to the fact that it is one of the few places in Firnhallow willing to employ someone like me.

After proving my usefulness, Mr. Byron had me begin restoration on historical texts before moving on to the highly valued editions. He even allowed me the option to study whatever I wanted in the main area of the library or to restore any book considered obsolete in the time between jobs.

Our conversation winds down with the tolling of the city’s central bell tower, signaling the official start of our day. Talya walks me to my worktable. She leaves me to start on this week’s rebindings as she returns to the front to assume her duties.

The work is consistent yet not frequent enough to keep me busy all the time. Over the years, I have made my way through every book on the body, illnesses, and medicine available.

I would even take the texts home and spend long nights studying, hoping to find anything that could cure my condition. Or at least give me more time.

Putting all thoughts of forbidden books and fae from my mind, I lose myself in my work. My hands glide over leather and paper in a series of movements I could probably do in my sleep.

I don’t look up until a soft knock on the door breaks my concentration.

Talya pokes her head in. “It’s nearly five. You can go whenever you are ready.” She steps fully into the room and props a hip against the table. “I’m going to stay a little longer. I want to make a list of everything I need to do in the next year.I’m going to prove to Father that he is right to trust me with this.”

I stand and stretch. “All right,” I say, gathering my things. “Promise not to stay past six?”

“Seven.”

“Six-thirty.” I cross my arms.

“Deal!” she says, and we shake on it.

Excited or not, Talya doesn’t need to take chances—especially when it’s not absolutely necessary.

The streets are well lit at night, and the town is encircled by lamps that are kept lit all hours of every day, but that is no guarantee of safety from the wild demons that roam the shadows after dark.

For the first time since the start of my shift, I allow my mind to drift back to the cure. I wonder if it has worked or if I did nothing more than put in a lot of effort for a single cup of tea.

I button my jacket, then step out into the early evening. The sky is clear, but the air holds an icy chill that’s not typical for this time of year. I search my bag for my gloves, but there is only one.

“Pardon me,” a deep, rich voice says from behind. “I believe you dropped this.”

I turn to find the stranger holding out my other glove. He’s tall, with dark hair and full lips. The muscles of his sharp jaw are tense. He is clad in a long, dark jacket and a square top hat with the brim pulled low, hiding his eyes.

He clears his throat, and I realize I’m staring.