One side of his lips rose into a smile as he perused my stack. “I have a feeling you might be here for a while. I’ll start a fire.”
I skimmed through books, being careful not to damage these valuable texts. The scent of burning logs and the crackle of a fire added a cozy feel to the library and warmed the cool room. When I finally glanced up, Hadrien had arranged himself in the large chair beside the hearth, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.
My cheeks warmed. “How long have you been sitting there watching me?”
“Long enough to see how engrossed you are,” he teased.
“I was reading.” What a silly thing to say, to point out the obvious.
“I noticed.” His voice was a notch softer than his usual gruff bark.
I blinked my tired eyes while I rolled out my neck, which was tight from being hunched forward for so long.
“You should rest,” he said gently.
I rolled one shoulder. “I’m not tired.”
He stared at me with a look that called me out.
“Fine,” I admitted. “I’m exhausted. But there’s so much in here we can learn from. So much we can try.”
“Tomorrow,” Hadrien said. “The wards won’t fail overnight. You can come back in the morning after you get some sleep.”
“Can I?” I perked up. “You’ll let me come in here on my own?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But only under one condition.” He raised a thick index finger.
“What?”
“No looking through my desk. No going through the cabinets. No sneaking into my private affairs.” He gestured toward the upper bookshelves. “Just the books. Understand?”
I nodded. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t go through your stuff.” I set the book I was reading down on the side table with reluctance, smoothing the cover as though it might run away. “What will you do?”
“What I always do.”
“Fly? Wander?” I arched a brow. “Brood?”
A low, gruff sound escaped him, one that almost sounded like laughter. “Brooding sounds good.” And then his mouth spread into something I never thought I’d see on the gruff gargoyle—a half-smile.
Progress. I knew not to push it. A warm tingle spread in my chest.
I pushed myself up from the chair. “Thank you, Hadrien.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome, Little Thistle.”
I cocked my head and smiled. “Still a pain in your side?”
He tipped his head back, his expression pensive. “Less pain. More…the helpful plant you’d described.”
When he brought his gaze back to mine, something shifted in the air between us, filling the space with pulsing energy. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I turned toward the door.
Before I reached it, Hadrien stopped me. “Lilia, wait.”
Lilia?So he did know my name. And the way he’d said it, low and deliberate—it did something to me.
I turned over my shoulder. “Hadrien?”
He stood at the hearth, the firelight behind him casting long shadows across the floor. For a moment he didn’t speak, his weight shifting, almost imperceptibly, from foot to foot. Was this massive, unshakable gargoyle fidgeting?
