Did I manage to hide the tiny shiver that just ran down my spine?
It should be impossible to focus like this, but I let my eyes lower to the charts, anyway.
When he inevitably drifts off half an hour later, I stand, letting his fingers fall free of my hair, and stare down at him.
With his expression unguarded like this, the extent of his exhaustion is plain.
“I understand why you’re like this,” I whisper. “But I fear you’ll lose everything that matters in your quest for a cure, and you won’t notice until it’s too late.”
With a long sigh and a wave of my hand, I transmute a different chair into a soft mattress, but the Arcanaeum goes one step further, creating a cosy cubbyhole bed, nestledbetween the shelves and stuffed high with cushions. Leo doesn’t even stir as the furniture lifts him, then tips him into bed, nor when I tug the covers over him.
“For the record,” I whisper, as I gather the charts I was reading and perch on the edge of the mattress to continue my work. “I am still angry with you for how you behaved when your curse activated.”
But if I’d had a brother, or any siblings at all, I think I might’ve done the same.
Sixteen
Kyrith
Ihave no idea how I got here. The last thing I remember is deciding to put down my work and wait for Leo to wake up so I could share what I’d discovered, and now…
I’m pretty sure the warm surface beneath my cheek is his chest. I can’t think what else would be rising and falling so rhythmically. I’m surrounded by the crisp scent of windstorms and paper, his soft snores tickling my hair, and his arms are wrapped around me, trapping me. The covers are tangled around us both, my leg flung carelessly over his hip as we cuddle in the intimate sleeping nook the Arcanaeum created.
How did this happen? I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I wasn’t even corporeal the last time I checked and?—
“They’re so cute,” Lambert whines. “I wish my phone worked here. I want a picture so bad.”
The Arcanaeum does something—draws power—and Lambert’s answering whoop is more than a little concerning.
My eyes have never opened so fast. I search past the soft wool of Leo’s sweater and find him blinking open sleep-crusted blue eyes. The room is bright, though the shelves on either side mute the worst of it. Magic, we must have slept most of the morning away like this.
Worse. Lambert Winthrop is now holding an oil painting of the two of us up for North to admire.
Really? An oil painting. Dear sweet stars above, I will never live this down.
I ghost free of his embrace before the Library can conjure a second copy, smoothing my clothes, which are rumpled in all sorts of places.
“It wasn’t what it looked like. I was simply…checking he was still alive.”
That is the flimsiest excuse ever, and Lambert’s face breaks out in a puppyish grin. “Alive?”
“Bullshit,” North coughs.
“He might not have been breathing!” I double down, even though it’s useless. “I…couldn’t see his chest moving from over here. Nothing untoward?—”
“Yeah, I imagine you got a much better view of his chest,” North drawls. “Among other things.”
“Northcliff Ackland,” I growl, summoning his card into my hand for the dozenth time.
Lambert, as ever, rushes to his friend’s rescue. “Boss, you can cuddle Leo if you want to. He could use more snuggles in his life.”
“Indeed.” Leo finally shoves himself up against the pillows. “I’m glad you’re so concerned for my welfare, Kyrie.”
Oh, magic, this is all so embarrassing.
I need to change the subject. Distract them. In my panic, I blurt the only thing I can think of. “I think I figured out how to untangle the first layer of your ensorcellment. Properly this time. I’d like you to check my workings before we attempt anything, and perhaps we should consult a third party?—”
“What?” Leo scrambles out of the cubbyhole, headingstraight for the neatly organised papers on the desk with new single-minded focus. “What constellation was it? When did you find this? Why didn’t you wake me!?”
