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The room took up two stories. Huge shelves spanned the room, the walls rising close to the ceiling, filled with books and rolled parchments and maps and all kinds of documents. I stared in wonder. If one of those shelves were to tip, it would crush anyone standing under it to dust.
“How am I ever going to find what I’m looking for in here?” I asked.
“Simple. Ask the room.”
I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Should I say please?”
Palon cleared his throat. “Library, I want one book on the history of the Otherworld.”
He held out his hand, and a book flew off the shelves and zoomed into it. “You can search by author or title. Search for books covering one topic or by simple mentions. Although be careful, if you ask for every book that mentions a common topic, you may find yourself buried under half the library.”
I stared at him in wonder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Return,” Palon said, and the book he was holding floated back to its spot on the shelf. “I’ll wait at the entrance to the library.” He bowed and then moved back toward the door.
I let out a long breath. It was time to get to work to see if I could solve this mess I was in.
Chapter 20
I stood in a tent just outside of the city, dressed in faerie warrior leathers, a full-length mirror before me. Roisin dragged a brush through my hair with a force I swear was going to snap my neck.
Last night, Dagda had explained the tournament, an annual tradition among the houses of the court, that always occurred thirteen days before Samhain. Each of the twenty-four houses put up two champions from their own families to compete.
Apparently, the past three years, after Niamh’s death, the Royal Ones hadn’t been expected to provide any champions, but now that I was here, Dagda and I could compete.
It was a foolish tradition. I could say no, he’d said.
I’d said yes.
I’d failed him at my welcoming ceremony. And even though I’d asked multiple times, he’d always hedged around the question that was growing to be a shout in my brain—what had he really been doing the last twenty-one years?
Not to mention, Badb’s display before the people during that ceremony had made Dagda appear weak. Today we’d show the people the power and unity of their king and queen.
Win or lose, I could do this for him.
Winning was easiest, but less likely. If we lost, I’d just need to show our unification in another way. A more physical way.
I pressed my lips together, a hungry curiosity burning in my chest.It is only a last resort, I reminded myself. A necessity.
Roisin wrenched the brush across my scalp, her eyes dark, her face in a low scowl. I watched her jerky movements and noted her sharp breaths in the mirror's reflection.
I pulled myself from my thoughts, focusing on her unusual behavior. “Is something wrong?”
Her lips slid into a frown. “Why would anything be wrong, your majesty?”
“You seem a bit… unhappy.”
“Do I?” She gave another savage yank that nearly took off my head.
“Roisin…” My voice was stern with a gentle edge to it.
Her arm dropped to her side. “You made Palon your faerie knight.”
My brows drew together. “So?”
Her grip tightened on the brush and for a moment she looked as if she’d like nothing better than to hit me upside the head with it. “Faerie knights swear not to form any romantic attachments.”
I blinked. “I thought there wasn’t anything between…” I cut myself off at the way her gaze suddenly avoided mine. Apparently, despite Roisin's protestations, there was hope that things might work out. I peeked at the tent entrance, knowing Palon most likely stood on the other side. I dropped my voice. “He’s not from the House of the High Ones. He may not’ve made the same promises.” Dagda had said that only those from Mina’s family were chosen as faerie knights.
