Two dozen books start arranging themselves on the table, setting up a display.
I’d bet every bit of money in the McKinley coffers that those are the very books they wanted banned. My lips quirk. Stubborn lass.
“I’m afraid I might’ve lost my temper,” she admits under her breath. “Which certainly didn’t help matters.”
“I’ll speak to my grandfather at dinner,” Leo says. “You have better things to be doing than arguing with a bunch of doddery old fools.”
His books snap shut loudly, folding themselves into a haphazard pile on the cart behind him.
“I’ve made some progress on the runeform,” Kyrith says, meeting his hawkish gaze without flinching. “But there have been other things on my mind.”
“Clearly.” Leo shoves away from the shelf he was leaningagainst and stalks towards the door. “I’d appreciate a copy of whatever you’ve managed. I’ll be in the tower.”
Dakari’s near-silent exhale stinks of judgement as the Ó Rinn heir disappears. “Idiot.”
“Why did your family curse his, anyway?” Eddy asks.
Dakari opens his mouth to answer her, but the mutant kitten behind Lambert’s back lets out an almighty yowl—probably because the scamp has somehow ended up upside down and is clinging to the back of his t-shirt like it might die if it lets go.
Everyone freezes.
Kyrith’s expression goes curiously blank as she turns towards him and raises a brow. “Lambert.”
“Boss lady.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man vibrate with excitement and guilt at the same time before. Lambert might’ve thought this was a good idea, but as Kyrith advances on him like the unstoppable force of nature she is, he actually swallows and averts his gaze.
“What was that noise?”
“Before I tell you, I have a quick question. Do you, erm…like animals?”
He dinnae even ask her that first?
North facepalms as his twin breaks out laughing. I’m not sure which is more appropriate as the Winthrop heir peels the ugly cat from his clothing and brings it in front of his chest like an offering.
Kyrith stops dead. Magic, I need some popcorn or something.
“It’s a cat!” His smile could melt butter, but apparently, the Librarian is immune.
“I can see that.”
“You said you were lonely.”
“And you brought me something with fleas?”
“I thinkthey’re mites, actually…”
Kyrith’s brows rise, and then she whirls, facing the desk. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
This time, I cannae hold back my own snicker. There, sitting innocently on the desk, beside all of her papers and neatly ordered pens, is the most ridiculously extra cat bed I’ve ever seen.
It’s royal blue, with embroidered hearts and a thick, fluffy lining. To make matters even funnier, a tiny brass nameplate pops into being on the leather top.
“Assistant Librarian?” Eddy cackles. “Oh, this is purrfect.”
The room warms, the Arcanaeum basking in the praise, before it starts to go overboard. More cat paraphernalia is appearing by the second—everything from tiny stuffed mice to cat flaps in the doors—and Kyrith’s fingers flex as she lets out a wee groan of frustration.
“Lambert Winthrop…” she begins.
