Page 9 of Wicked Prince of Frost

The streets and sidewalks are busy, as usual, during mid-morning. Each step causes the book to bounce against my hip like a thudding heartbeat while I focus on keeping my pace steady. I return the smiles and nods of the familiar faces, waiting for one of them to stop me, reach into my bag for the satin-wrapped parcel, and reveal my crime to the world.

Perhaps it would have been better to wait until thisevening to try the experiment. At least then my nerves could fray in the privacy of my own home.

An eternity passes before I reach the top of the steps to the archives. Warm air washes over me as I enter. The familiar scent of aged paper, ink, and leather is calming. This place has given me a sense of peace each time I step foot through the door.

Mr. Shaw is already reshelving books from the previous day. His hair is parted to one side and combed neatly. A few black strands persist in the mass of thick grays. He moves slowly, and though his back is slightly bent with age, his hearing is as sharp as ever. He pushes his thin, circular wire glasses up the bridge of his nose as he turns.

“How are you this morning, Mr. Shaw?”

The older man is one of the kindest people I know, though most find him unapproachable because he doesn’t talk much. It’s not that he’s quiet so much as he prefers to wait for others to give him room to speak.

“Ah, Violet, it’s always good to see your smiling face,” he says, then nods toward the large clock behind the main desk. “You’d better get going. Miss Byron arrived fifteen minutes ago, and she’s been looking for you.”

My brows rise. “What mood was she in?” I ask in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in.

He hums thoughtfully while scratching under his chin. “She is either happy or up to no good again.… It’s difficult to say.”

Talya is likely plotting something to torture Sebastian again.

There are times I envy them for having each other… then again, when they argue, I’m glad to be an only child.

I wave to Mr. Shaw and hurry toward the back room.

The lights are on, but it’s silent. Talya isn’t waiting for me as expected. She must have gotten bored waiting.

Quickly shrugging off my jacket, I hang it on the coat stand with my hat. I don’t waste time taking the wrapped book from my bag and striding down the last row of books. Reshelfing the book exactly where I found it brings an immediate sense of relief.

It was mixed in among a handful of antiquated human books that line the three bottom rows of the bookcases in the far back corner. The section reserved for books kept for prosperity that are considered low priority. Texts with information that has long been proven to be outdated.

It’s hard to say if they were intentionally hidden or stored there by mistake and forgotten when the fae demanded their return generations ago.

The door of the back room swings open on squeaky hinges. It’s followed by a thud of books being unceremoniously plopped onto the worktable, causing my heart to thud painfully against my ribs.

“Oh, good, you’re finally here, Violet,” Talya calls out from the entry. Her voice fills the room. “Where are?—”

Instantly rising onto my toes, I begin wiping the highest shelf I can reach just as she rounds the far end of the aisle.

“There you are!” Talya heaves a sigh, letting her shoulders slump in exaggerated relief. She looks around, arching a brow. “What are you doing back here?”

I wave the cloth in my hand and start swiping at the next shelf down. “Just… dusting?”

“I’ve been waiting hours for you!”

“You have not.” I snort. “You only got here a few minutes before me. Besides, I got here at the same time I always do. ”

“Fine, fine… itfeelslike I’ve been waiting hours.” Talya grabs me by the wrist and pulls me to the other side of the aisle as if it will somehow give us additional privacy.

Playing innocent, I ask, “Is something the matter?”

Talya ignores my obvious act and bounces impatiently like a little kid waiting to go to the fair. “Something amazing happened, and I am about to burst if you don’t let me tell you in the next five seconds!”

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” I say.

“Do you remember when Mr. Marston came by with his eldest son two weeks ago?” I nod as she continues without waiting for an answer, “Well, when Father took them to the study after dinner, I thought for sure they were discussing trying to marry me off to Henry—but as it turns out, he was secretly courting Pearl Buntham and the two of them will be engaged by the end of the month. I cannot tell you how relieved I was when Father told me, but that didn’t explain why he’d been talking to Mr. Marston almost daily since then.” Talya offers a broad grin, her round cheeks causing her eyes to close.

“That’s great,” I offer, not knowing what else to say. I knew she never wanted to marry him, but there’s more to this story for this level of excitement.

Her expression falls. “Honestly, Vi, sometimes I can’t tell if you are messing with me.”