“Stop that,” I grumble. “They’re grown adults, and that was unnecessary.”
“A simple thank you would suffice,” North says,plucking his sticker from the air and adding it to his shirt—just to spite me, I’m sure.
Eddy pops hers on her notebook, blowing the ceiling a kiss in thanks.
She’s started doing that—acknowledging the Library in little ways that make it prickle with happiness.
“Thank you.” The words are reluctant, but he did save me time by getting rid of them all at once. “Let me deal with the line and then I can help with that.” I gesture at the pile of books Eddy is carrying.
I know she was hoping to spend the week before term starts studying. I taught her a little more conjuration over the holidays, but she’s woefully behind on alchemy and ensorcellment.
It’s not uncommon for liminals to start the year with less knowledge than their adept peers, but everyone else has had twelve weeks of tutoring already.
The next patron is marginally more civil. The one after him is banished for being worse than Goodberry. Not all of them are terrible. Several are simply nosy or in need of the usual assistance.
And through it all, North stands rightthere, like he’s daring them to make a scene. I don’t need a defender. I wouldn’t even say I want one.
I can only hope this doesn’t come across as my favouring Ackland.
By the time I’m finished, I’ve received several compliments on my outfit, and rumour seems to have spread that the closure of the Arcanaeum is related to parriarch business and not to be questioned. Either that, or all of the disgruntled patrons are busy drafting up letters of complaint for Josef.
“That was a lot,” Eddy says, as I send the last patron on her way with directions to the Kinetic Hall and a promise thatseveral useful texts will be waiting in the reading room to help her with her paper.
I nod. “It’s good to be busy, but I promised to help you get started. Come, the Arcanaeum has reserved the normal booth.”
Ghosting through the desk, I pause as I meet North’s eyes. “You don’t need tutoring?”
“I’m just checking on you.”
What?
My first instinct is that he means both me and his sister, but his golden eyes don’t leave mine as he says it.
My hackles rise in suspicion, but…Eddy is smiling. Ordinarily, if he were doing something rude or annoying, she’d be the first to call him out on it, and I trust her.
This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed North behaving strangely since I embodied, either, though I assumed the book on alchemy he presented me with at Christmas was simply to stop me from feeling excluded as Eddy unwrapped half a dozen presents. Either that, or perhaps he gave it to me to annoy his father. After all, the tome still had ‘Property of the Ackland Collection’ stamped on the copyright page.
Not that the Arcanaeum had any quibbles about erasing the ink and adding the volume to its collection.
Was it really a peace offering? A…truce? Did something change?
His actions today, defending me, only confuse me further. For some reason Northcliff Ackland is moving from civility to downright…niceness. Thank goodness my cheeks can’t flush in this form.
My cough does little to disguise the way the shelves around us sigh a little.
“I’m perfectly content,” I promise, straightening my spine and looking away. “I had a wonderful New Year, and I’m much more used to…the new order of things.”
I keep my words vague as we pass a handful of patrons. I don’t want to bring up the incident where I fell apart in front of the heirs.
I’ve been given a gift. It would be foolish to waste time bemoaning what I can’t do when I’m so much better off than I was. My quality of life is much improved, and I no longer have to reenact my death every night.
“You can update the group chat now,” Eddy says, a wry grin stretching her cheeks. Before I can ask, she explains, “They’ve all been asking for updates on you—and that’s only in the chat I’m in. I’m almost sure they have a boys-only version.”
North rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment. “Someone had to check on her. It was either just me, or the whole lot of us. No one wanted to overwhelm her on the first day back at work. Well, Lambert did, but we managed to convince him out of it.”
Should I be concerned that they’re all in collusion with one another? Just who is in this ‘group chat’?
Before I can ask, we arrive at our destination. The booth is already set up for their use, and the tiny sign reading ‘reserved’ disappears the moment Eddy slides in.
