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A wave of guilt crashes into me, and I shake my head hastily, the gesture likely too forceful to look sincere. “No,” I lie, “I’m not scared of you.”
Arluin heaves out a breath and runs his fingers through his loose, dark curls. “I didn’t mean what I said to Kaely. I heard rumors of what she said this afternoon, and with the way she was talking to you now, I just...”
“I know,” I say, not meeting his eyes as I reach for his hand. I focus on his fingers and the way they feel against mine. “I know. It’s all right, I promise.” I hope he can’t hear the trepidation in my voice and that my words sound more convincing than they do in my head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his shoulders sagging.
And I am sorry, too. But I don’t tell him that. Because it would mean admitting my fear.
I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around him. I press my head against his chest, staring down at the hardened leather covers bundled in my other arm.
Arluin returns my hug, and we remain like that for a long while.
He’s not a monster. I know he’s not. If he were a monster, how could his embrace be so comforting?
His fingers curl around a stray strand of my hair. “What time will you finish working for Erma?”
“By nightfall. But I doubt she’ll let me leave until I’ve finished returning all the books.”
“I was going to study for a few hours, so I’ll wait until you finish.”
“I’ll stay at yours tonight,” I say, wanting to return the atmosphere to normal.
His lips brush the top of my head in a soft kiss. I give his hand a squeeze before we break away, and I return to the task of tidying away the stack of books.
Ten
Returningallthebookstakesmeseveralmorehours,andwedon’tleavetheGrandLibraryuntillongafternightfall.TheArcaniumismostlyemptynow,thoughwepassafewmagiaswecrossthroughtheatrium.
We step beyond the pillars at the Arcanium’s entrance, and the night breeze washes over my cheeks. Having spent far too long inside the library, the cool night air feels refreshing.
Our hands entwined, we wind down the spiraling stairs and continue past the statues lining the path out of the Arcanium. When we reach the archway with the words QUEL ESTE VOLU, PODE NONQUES VERA MORIRE etched into its stone, we come to a stop. Arluin pulls me nearer and closes his eyes, conjuring aether in his fingers.
Before he can finish casting his teleportation spell, I tug his arm.
“Let’s walk back,” I say.
“Aren’t you tired?” he asks. “Erma had you running around the entire library.”
“She had me running around so much I can’t even feel how tired my legs are. My head is the most tired. Hopefully some fresh air and a gentle stroll will wake me up enough to cook. I can’t even remember when I last ate today.”
“I’ll cook.”
I snort. “How? You can’t cook.”
“I can.”
“Your cooking tastes awful.”
“It tastes fine to me.”
I cast him a dubious look. “Then not only am I worried about your cooking skills but also your taste buds.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my cooking, nor with my taste buds.”
“Fine,” I say with a shrug. “I’ll cook for myself and you can cook for yourself when we get back. How’s that?”
Arluin presses his lips together and hesitates for a terribly long moment.
