Neela

Neela

There was no denying I was a little bit drunk. Either that or the walls in this palace really were weaving and swaying.

“Is there somewhere I can sleep?” I asked the fae royal companion, Liz, who, for some reason, was happy to help me. She’d told me it was because she was bored, and I believed it. Boredom could be a powerful motivator.

“Is there somewhere the Floran princess can sleep? Yes, I think we’ll manage to find a room,” she said, deadpan.

She led me upstairs and into an enormous bedroom. Seriously, you could hold a party there and still have room to sleep.

It was gorgeous, too. Cascading vines of ivy and blossoms twined their way up the pillars of a four-poster bed draped in flowing dusty-pink silk curtains, and large windows let in cool moonlight that highlighted intricate carvings on the wooden walls of tiny winged faeries and pixies dancing.

“Will this do, princess?” Liz asked. Her green eyes danced with mischief, and I couldn’t tell if I despised her or liked her. Time would tell.

“Sure, I guess.”

Liz stood and watched me, so I ushered her away with a shooing gesture, which she accepted far better than I would have—she just scowled but didn’t curse, and she left me alone.

“Holy fuck in a forest,” I declared, sitting on the bed. It was soft and smelled comfortingly of sea-salt spray, which was the scent that had accompanied my entire life. Perhaps it had chosen that aroma just for me.

I kicked off my shoes and wriggled under the blankets, too tired and tipsy to do any more exploring.

But in the early morning, my eyes sprang open, and adrenaline hit my bloodstream. What the hell was I doing, lying about and playing princess? Could I really trust this Liz chick? Maybe she was off calling the authorities right now. I should scope out this palace and start working on my contingency plan—the one where I stole some expensive shit and started thinking about where to sell it.

Bare feet were best for sneaking, so I kept my boots beside the bed and slowly opened my bedroom door. It wasn’t locked, so at least I wasn’t a prisoner. That was a good start.

Time to explore the Rose Palace. I started at the top and worked my way down methodically. The highest room, where the rosebud would be, had a tall, glass dome ceiling letting moonlight stream in. I could practically picture counts and ladies waltzing with a string quartet in the corner. This must be the ballroom, I decided. But there were no knick-knacks I could pocket, just massive gold-framed portraits of serious-looking fae with an array of colorful hair.

The next level down, the third floor, had my bedroom and a bunch of other rooms. Poking my head into a couple, I saw they were all bedrooms too, but I didn’t want to keep prying in case I stumbled on Liz and woke her up. I’d have to save that for when she was out on an errand.

The second floor’s layout was different, with the corridors on the perimeter and rooms in each petal that peeled off it. The windows were enchanted, letting in a golden glow as if the sun was always out.

Poking my head into one of the rooms inside the giant petals, I saw the throne room, with large windows letting in the moonlight and a crystal chandelier dripping thousands of tiny rainbows. Annoyingly, there was nothing I could steal without hiring a forklift or a crane, so I kept moving.

From force of habit, I peered around corners before marching out, though I was a long way from Joey the Bull. When I creaked open the door to the next petal room, my breath stuttered. It was vast, with curves and points like we were inside a giant petal, and every wall was lined with books.

I gasped, a literal, out-loud gasp. I’d never seen so many books. They were leather-bound, with gold leaf letters and intricate cover designs. I walked toward one of the shelves, padding across the cold marble floor and running my hand over the spines. They were written in a language I couldn’t understand, but the titles were intriguing.

I almost felt guilty being there, like an intruder in someone else’s life story. But then again, if the fae were going to make me feel foolish by forcing me here with the enchanted tattoo, they deserved it.

As I made my way to the opposite side, I noticed a small table with a quill and inkpot. How quaint. I picked up the quill and dipped it in ink, and hesitantly wrote my name on the blank page of one of the books. It was a silly thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt like I was leaving a mark, a small piece of myself in this magical place.

Time stood still in that room, and I lost myself in the beauty of the books.

Flipping through the pages, they seemed to be made of enchanted paper that shimmered in the golden light, and the writing inside danced across the page as if it was alive. It didn’t stay still long enough that I could read it.

I was so engrossed in the books that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late. I spun around to see Liz standing behind me, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “What are you doing here?”

I tried for confidence and cocked out a hip. “I live here.”

Liz’s scowl deepened. “You don’t live in the Library of Whispers. You’re snooping.”

As we spoke, the books around us seemed to murmur quietly, which was probably why this place was called the Library of Whispers.

“That’s a great name,” I said.

“It’s a practical name,” Liz corrected. I took in her pajamas, which were just as utilitarian as her day clothes. Pants, shirt, one pocket, no frills. It was a mint green that set off her hair and eyes.

“Same thing,” I said, and her expression softened, her jaw relaxing slightly, her brow clearing.

“I suppose it is,” she said, her eyes flicking over to the book in my hands. “You shouldn’t touch those books, they’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” My eyebrows shot upward. “What do you mean?”

“The enchantments on those books are old and powerful. They can affect your mind, make you see things, make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying at all,” I muttered, setting the book back on the shelf. It was disappointing, though. The books had seemed so magical, so full of promise. But they were just another danger to avoid. Still, they might make good money on the streets.

“Come on,” Liz said, gesturing for me to follow her. “Let’s go back to your room. It’s not safe to wander around the palace at this time of night.”

“How calming and restful,” I deadpanned. “I’ll be sure to sleep soundly now.”

I hesitated, wanting to explore more. But fatigue won out. There’d be plenty of time to discover the secrets of the Rose Palace, but for now, I needed sleep.

At the threshold of my room, Liz turned away. She walked a few steps, then called over her shoulder with a final piece of advice that made me decide I really did like her. “If you steal anything, I’ll track you down and burn you alive.” Her tone was light, but I believed her.

I snorted. Liz was my kind of girl. Someone I could work with.