Page 31 of Crown of the Courtesan

I flush with uncomfortable prickles, still not used to such greetings. “Sorry to bother you⁠—”

“Don’t be. My role here at the library is to help everyone, royalty and commonfolk alike.”

“I was told to seek you out to learn more about our history with the Kingdom of Ashland. There are some gaps in my knowledge, and I’m not sure⁠—”

“Follow me.” She places a book onto the cart, which blocks half the aisle, and motions for me to accompany her deeper into the center section. “I knew you’d come eventually, so I had these books set aside. Very few of them are left after the late king’s father decreed that any texts containing the word Ashland be burned across our kingdom.” She stops at a golden bookcase lined with paned glass. From around her neck, she pulls out a gold chain necklace with a key attached and twists it into the lock on the case. She rummages inside for a second. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I whisper, afraid my voice might offend something lurking in the bowels of knowledge stored here.

“Careful, now.” She piles a towering stack of textbooks of different sizes and lengths into my arms.

They’re heavier than I expected. My muscles strain as I heave them closer to my body, the pressure of the books feeling like a hug. “Thank you. This means a lot… I’m tired of not knowing things,” I say, unsure why I added the last bit.

Mistress Wella’s eyes light up. “Knowledge comes to those with consistency and diligence. If you seek it, you will find it.”

I back away a few steps to hold my bundle better.

“This may be none of my business, but have you visited Madame Phyrne since the night of the Bidding Ceremony?” she asks.

My arm muscles tense and lock around my stack. “No, I haven’t.” Something simmers under my skin, threatening to come to the surface.

I hesitate, unsure of how to respond.

“Whatever harsh things your father said about her near the end were just that—just words. The three of us were friends, and that doesn’t stop even in death.”

It’s such an odd thought, thinking of the three of them as close companions, that I’m struck speechless for a moment.

Not waiting for my response, she adds kindly, “Once you’ve finished these, come and find me again. I would love to discuss them with you.” She pats my arm and leaves, her woolen robes trailing behind as I call after her with my gratitude. She waves in acknowledgment as she disappears into the maze of scurrying scribes.

Answers await somewhere in these pages. At least if I can grow to understand the history between our warring kingdoms, I might be able to untangle this knot of dread that leaves me feeling clueless and, worst of all, like a fraud.

I slip between the shelves, eager to return to my chambers and begin reading. However, this section doesn’t look familiar at all. I look around, realizing I’m lost. Perhaps I should have asked Mistress Wella to show me the way back to the main gallery of the library. The books in my arms grow burdensome as I round the corner. I abruptly stop before interrupting what appears to be a lover’s quarrel.

“Betrothal or not, I won’t. You are a child.” I recognize the voice of Captain Wellcrest and suck in my breath.

“Really, Finn,” Klara’s voice cracks as she counters, “why must you insist on insulting me?”

“It’s not an insult when it is true.”

I peek around the corner. Wellcrest holds Klara’s wrist in his fist as if she tried to slap or perhaps even caress him. She tries to pull away, but he holds her tightly. “You prove my point,” he hisses, letting go; his fingers going taut with emphasis.

“Don’t you remember when we were actually children, running through the library, not a care in the world?”

“You’re still a child.”

“Not if you make me a woman,” she implores.

“Bedding you will not turn you into a woman overnight. Don’t you have any other thoughts in your head besides marriage and babies?”

“My dreams of being loved and creating a family of my own are no less heroic than your swords and conquests, if you would only give me a chance.”

My cheeks heat at the sensitive words, and I hide before they can spot me.

Her pink taffeta gown rustles as she flees.

Shifting to move stealthily away, I hear Wellcrest rumble, “Your Grace, you should not wander these aisles unattended.”

I slowly step back, clutching the heavy tomes like a shield. “I’m headed to my chambers. I’ll be fine.”