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I stared deep into her brown eyes and felt a sense of pride, knowing that I was the source of her terror. But the longer I looked, the more her fear turned to anger. She was a fiery little princess. It was amusing to see so much rage inside such a small human.
I backed off and gave her room to breathe. Emilie was still throwing daggers at me with her eyes, and I resisted a smirk. Did she think she was menacing? She could use more practice.
“This tour was a bad idea,” she said with a shaky breath. “I can find someone else—maybe Marjorie is free. Or I can figure it out myself. I don’t need you to show me around. You weren’t doing a very good job of it, anyway.”
The insult rolled off of me, but as much as I would’ve liked to leave her to wander the castle by herself, I had told my brother I would do this. And I didn’t break my promises.
“The room behind you is a servants’ room. It’s for linens. If you’d like to begin the tour there, we can, but I don’t think it’s the best use of our time.”
Color rose in her face again, and I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. I knew there was another insult on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. “Fine. Let’s continue then.”
I carried on with the tour. The next door led to the kitchen. I stopped briefly to show Emilie, though I doubted she’d be visiting very often. Marjorie had the ability to bring her anything she might want.
We made it to the end of the west wing, and that was where our tour truly began. A three-story library came into full view as we entered through a grand double door.
I heard a gasp from behind me.
“Nothing like the libraries in Dreslen?” I asked.
“Not at all. We only have one library and it’s mostly textbooks shoved into a building no larger than a shed. I’ve never seen anything quite like this.”
She stepped forward and looked completely enamored by the aisles of leather-bound tomes that lined the walls. The light coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows created a sparkling effect on the marble floors, highlighting the veins of black quartz.
Emilie didn’t wait for me before she headed to the right and I followed her from a distance. She skimmed the titles of the books closest to her.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
“Not really. I just want to see what all you have.” She ran a finger over the dusty edges and took them in one by one. “Gods, it’ll take forever to read all of these.”
I huffed a laugh. “Do you intend to read all of them?”
“Of course,” she said before grabbing one with a red spine and gold lettering. I snuck a peek at the cover to find it was a history of Osavian.
Interesting.
I could almost recite verbatim every word in that book. The story of three travelers who had first settled in this land. The eldest took care of his friends—fed them, built them shelter, kept them safe. And in return, they tried to take what didn’t belong to them.
As more people settled into the lands, the eldest became the leader, but the two younger men were hungry for his power. They betrayed him—tried to take his life—and he was forced to banish them. One to the deserts now called Dreslen, and the other to the snow-capped mountains that we now call Murvort.
While relations between Dreslen and Osavian have improved over generations, I can’t deny that treason runs in the princess’s blood.
“Can I take as many as I’d like?” she asked.
“Yes.” A small part of me was curious about what else she would pick up. I’d read most of the books in this library and found it alarming that the first one she picked up was one of my favorites. I’d bet our similarities ended there.
We continued on through rows and rows of books. I explained that the first floor was stocked with non-fiction—history, biographies, potions, maps, and so many more. Emilie took a few on magical theory and added them to her stack.
The second floor was filled with fiction. Any genre a person could think of, they’d find it there. The castle library had a copy of every book ever written.
I watched as Emilie’s cheeks turned a shade of pink before she took three more books from the shelf. She tried her best to hide them from me, using her air wielding abilities to send the books back to the table on the first level and freeing her hands to grab more. But we were in the romance section, so it was easy enough to figure out why she was blushing.
Pathetic.
I’d also read most of the books in this section, too, but more for research than anything else. The stories themselves were completely unrealistic, but they provided good instruction for charming the ladies of Renoa. Unsurprising that Emilie would be interested in these fairytales.
“What’s on the third floor?” she asked when we reached the spiral staircase. It was blocked off with a simple black rope. It appeared as though someone could easily get past it, but what they didn’t know was that it was enchanted to freeze anyone who tried to trespass without permission. I contemplated whether or not I should tell Emilie that.
She reached out a hand, about to unclasp the rope, and I decided to stop her. I grabbed her wrist, and she startled. “I wouldn’t do that. The third floor is restricted. It’s where we keep our more sinister books. Dark magic, the uncensored graphic accounts of history. You know, the things we wouldn’t want just anyone to be reading.”
