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She glanced at me, as if expecting a response. I said nothing. The last thing I wanted to do was dig myself into a deep hole discussing the policy decisions of my grandfather, Constantine—especially when the king’s father, Drogo, had been the one to kill Constantine in cold blood for the throne. Constantine had led Frasia like my father led Daybreak, with a focus on respectability and diplomacy, not the savagery of the Nightfall wolves. If Frasia was still led by Daybreak, the manor would be in much better shape, and certainly without shifted servants running around.
“The king has continued what his father began,” Camille said. “Returning the land to its natural state and allowing the inhabitants to reveal their true selves without restriction. The freedom has invited the Fae back into Efra. I’m happy to work with them.”
I nodded in understanding. If the Fae had come again, something in the land was changing. But unlike Camille, I wasn’t sure this was a good thing. Drogo’s reign had not ended well for him—I couldn’t imagine that the king’s would, either. The Fae’s return was an omen, but not necessarily a good one.
“Well,” I said, “I’m delighted to hear it.”
Camille smiled politely at me. She seemed almost disappointed that I hadn’t offered her more of a reaction.
As Micah took Fina’s measurements, Adora looked more and more distraught.
“I just can’t decide!” she said. “I love the neckline on this gown, but the hem length on this one. And I’d prefer silk, but then it must be lined for the cold weather—and what about this fine jacket!”
“We can combine elements, milady,” Camille said. “You have a good eye for this kind of work. What are you envisioning?”
“Pardon me,” I said as I stood up. “Adora, do you mind if I pop over to the bookstore?”
“Oh!” Adora smiled warmly at me. “No, not at all—we’ll meet you there just as soon as we’re finished.”
“Wonderful,” I said. “Excuse me, Camille.”
“Of course. I’ll send your outfit over just as soon as it’s completed.”
I hurried out of the tailor shop with my cloak wrapped tight around my shoulders. The driver escorted me through the busy streets of Efra around the corner to the bookstore. Luckily, it was close, and I avoided eye contact with the wilder residents of the city as best I could. Perhaps it was rude to leave the other two in the tailor shop, but that was the kind of rudeness that would play in my favor—good manners, bad decisions. I had a feeling it’d be quite the process for Adora to build her dream gown.
Besides, Camille’s words had ignited a burning curiosity in me, and I wanted all the time I could get to sate it.
A small bell jingled when I pushed the door to the bookstore open. It was darker than the tailor, dim and cozy, and the smell of paper and ink washed over me like a wave. Immediately, the tension in my shoulders loosened. The store was different than the manor’s library—it was low-ceilinged and packed tightly. It wasn’t designed to impress; it was designed to store as many books as possible in the small space. It felt homey.
“Welcome, welcome,” the bookseller said. He was a short man with a lined face and big ears—perhaps some imp ancestry—and his eyes were immense behind the magnifying glasses. “Can I help you find anything in particular today? The organization system is a bit strange here, I must admit—”
“History,” I said. “Or geography. Particularly of Frasia.”
“Ah,” he said with a smile. “A lady of taste. Come this way, I have just the thing.”
The bookseller led me through the narrow aisles to a section in the back. The shelves were full to bursting, with immense tomes bound in leather and faded titles like Lord Keva Kavaney’s Travels by Land and Sea and A Brief Review Of Livestock Domestication in Starcrest.
“Is there a certain subject that interests you?” the bookseller asked.
“Would you mind if I took a few minutes to peruse?”
“Not at all,” the seller said. “I’ll be behind the desk if you need anything. Do take your time.”
I carefully examined the shelves of books, passing over books that enticed me (maps, memoirs, historical accounts) until I found what I was looking for.
“History of Fae in Frasia,” I murmured as I pulled the slim volume from the shelf. “Hae Blaylock.”
Despite its narrow size, the book upon thumbing through it was filled with detailed maps, both large-scale maps of Frasia and smaller ones of the city and its neighborhoods. I flipped to the first page. “As our numbers dwindle in Frasia, I wished, as a citizen of Efra with trace Fae heritage, to preserve the history of our people in the city and beyond…”
Perfect. I didn’t want to be caught with just this book in my possession, though—better not to rouse too much suspicion if I could avoid it—and it wasn’t like I needed a reason to buy more books. I found more tomes that interested me: an atlas, a jaguar shifter sailor’s memoir, and a collection of Frasian myth. I was juggling my finds in one arm while kneeling in the back corner of the shop, peering at a poetry collection, when the bell jingled again.
“Oh, I’m just here to find someone,” I heard Fina say to the bookseller. “I believe I’ve misplaced a Lady of the Court in the stacks here?”
The bookseller laughed. I straightened up and hurried out of the corner, and nearly walked directly into Fina. She grinned knowingly at my finds. “Pretty neat shop, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” I said.
“Come on,” Fina said. “Adora’s in the coach outside.”
