23

Living in the Library

My head pounds, racing from the darkening hours to the first break of light. The light rain trickles down my bedroom window, fresh life singing in the air. I envy this flourishing weather, wishing for it to visit Axidoria.

I pray to the Makers I can fulfill my end of this arrangement with Jerrick and train fast. I need a way to remove my magic and melt away my winter.

But despite the cold filling and spreading across my home, I grew to relish and enjoy the longer winters. The darkened, cloudy skies would always match my mood, and I, somehow, found comfort. Those days would call for locking myself away, bundling up next to the fire with wine and blankets for company.

But my own preferences are irrelevant, the need for other seasons essential for new and plentiful crops.

I push through the dull ache, rising for the day and choosing to dress for comfort in anticipation of being down in the library with Jerrick. Our altercation yesterday only sent everything blowing up in my face.

He can manipulate blood.

He is cursed.

And I think he is still hiding something. I didn't have a chance to challenge him further about my father yesterday, but he better know I am not going to let that, too, be swept away.

He knows how to use his magic, and I need to do whatever I can to take advantage of his knowledge to help myself.

A greeting from Dorit is welcoming when she enters wearing her pleasant smile. She carries a tray of dried meats and cheeses.

I am not one to gorge myself on food in the mornings, and I am pleasantly surprised she has made herself aware of my habits. It makes me like her even more.

Offering my thanks, I fasten the laces binding the top of my tunic together, concealing my breasts. I hate to admit that the shirt and trousers grew on me, despite only wearing them yesterday. I couldn't help but reach for a second set today.

"Here, let me help you," Dorit offers, resting the tray down and helping me lace the string through the trousers.

"Thank you."

Dorit eases me through my minor setback, ensuring the tunic is properly tucked into the trousers with the fabric billowing away from my body.

"There," she chides. "Now, let's do something with that hair of yours."

I reach for the dried meat and cheese while she combs my hair, plaiting it into one long braid that goes down the length of my spine. A loose strand works itself free in her efforts, and I tuck it behind my ear before she notices and starts all over.

Dorit is not the only observant one, though. Bless her, but I've noticed she is a bit of a perfectionist.

As my stay has continued, her little quirks became more noticeable. The need for hair to be perfectly styled, the right amount of food on each tray she brings, the dresses and ensembles fitted and tailored flawlessly.

I chew through a slice of cheese, hiding my snicker from her as she ties off my braid.

"What?" she asks.

I chew on through my amusement quietly. She sees my laughter, and she pushes her hands against her hips, eyebrows raised in question.

I break into a fit of giggles, nostalgia flooding my senses. "You remind me of my sister, Runa, and my friend Betina."

Tears well in my eyes as I realize how much I miss Niko and Betina. And my laughs stop when I'm reminded of who I really miss. My family.

I mask the pain, blinking away my grief. "I apologize if I offended you."

Dorit slumps in relief. "Thank Yeva. I thought I had something in my teeth."

I throw my head back in laughter, and Dorit laughs as well.

She helps herself by reaching for a slice of dried meat, earning approval that she feels comfortable enough to do that.

"Meetings or library today?" she asks, her jaw working through the meat.

I swallow my food, biting my tongue. I pinch my features at the sharp, abrasive pain. "Library with Jerrick today. And probably the rest of my life, if we are being honest."

"Why do you say that?"

I shrug, building more lies. "We have a lot to work through. With my magic and his magic—"

"You mean his curse?"

My lips pop. "You know?"

She gives me a knowing look, and we both speak at the same time. "Gossip."

We grin, my heart content, and she continues, "I don't know the extent of it, only that he does have a curse."

Has she felt Jerrick's powers like I have? Does she know what his magic is versus what his curse is? They knew each other before he inherited his abilities.

"What was he like before?" I ask, unable to stop the question from escaping my lips.

Her face sours slightly, growing quiet. "He is still very much the same as from when he and I—you know. But I can't say for certain. I don't think anyone can but Jerrick."

"Not even Jonas?"

She shakes her head. "They are close, but I don't think Jerrick lets in anyone fully. I think he believes he is alone in the world between his curse and being king."

Shoving another piece of cheese in my mouth, I nod to her in understanding. I know all too well the mantle and stigma of managing a kingdom can weigh on one's shoulders. A pang of guilt claws at my chest for Jerrick, similar situations befalling the two of us.

But he killed his father, whereas I brought doom.

Two different types of monsters.

I catch my own reflection in the vanity, the monster within filling the frame and sending ice crackling around me. I blink away my fears, grimacing at the evil shining back.

No, I was wrong.

There aren't two types of monsters, only one.

And it is staring right at me.

I flinch away from myself, darting my attention to Dorit, seeking to bury my wretchedness.

She quietly tidies up the sheets on my bed and gathers my chamber pot. My boots sit near the door she passes, a reminder of the final thing needed to get me out and into the world.

A hesitation turns my gaze toward Mother's mirror, which I haven't touched in a while. I need to warn Niko about Jerrick. I don't have all the pieces yet, but I have to give him something.

"Tove?" Dorit draws my attention from Mother's mirror, concern lacing her question. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just reminiscing," I lie through my teeth.

She drops into a low curtsy and leaves my bedchamber as I make my way over to my boots, slipping them on with more ease than yesterday.

I descend the hall toward the library where Jerrick greets me, waiting for me, along with a new pile of books stacked on the wooden table. I grumble at his greeting, knowing I am half here against my will.

He gestures toward the other chair, and I join him, looking over each spine of the books. Jerrick hands me a book, taking away my freedom to choose what to read, and I sigh when the title tells me nothing about my magic.

I look at Jerrick, needing reassurance that I am not being strung along again. "Are you really going to help my people and me if I help you break your curse?"

Jerrick's eyes flash, and I expect him to yell or threaten me, like he has done since I've arrived. But instead, he surprises me with a faint glimpse of the man I met in Axidoria.

"I have signed off on the most recent trade exchange as a token of good faith in you helping me," he says with tenderness.

Food and clothing being approved and sent to my people fills me with gratitude.

But he shortens my moment of relief by adding, "Now you really need to earn the right."

I scowl, grinding my teeth. "How else am I supposed to do so if I am already helping you?"

A hint of amusement dances in his blue irises, a devious smirk gracing his features.

I squeeze my thighs together when his voice turns velvety and smooth.

"We could revisit what happened with a certain wall yesterday."

I clench the book tightly, the leather rubbing against my fingertips, when Jerrick winks.

The bastard is fucking taunting me.

I bristle through my annoyance, hating the blood rising to the surface of my skin.

Choosing to pick my battles rather than goad him on, I lean back and sever the lust building in the air. Reacting to his every touch has me wondering how often he has used his gifts on me.

Could he have used his powers on me without me knowing? Sweet Makers, how often does he use his gifts for his own advantage?

I avert my gaze from Jerrick, not wanting to think about him any further. Opening my book to the first page, I wipe away some collected dust.

Jerrick takes religious texts featuring priests that specialize in documentation on Anwir, the Deity of Illusion.

Leaning back, I read the title before glancing up to see Jerrick mimicking my actions. I incline my head, and he returns it in kind prior to returning to his text.

And so we read.

Betina falls back against my bed, and Niko's eyes widen when I tell them about Jerrick's curse.

But their jaws slacken at my last update. "He can also manipulate blood."

The news is disheartening, especially because it darkens the bright day Niko and Betina were having before I reached out. I pinch my features, regretful, as Niko runs a hand through his hair, his visible muscles flexing.

The chandelier is lit in my room rather than the hearth, Aiyana's spring finally peeking through winter back home. The dressing down of blankets on my old bed clue me in, as does Betina's coiled locks, which is frizzier than normal. The humidity in the air when warmer weather comes has her styling tight plaits along her scalp versus wearing her hair unbound and voluminous during the colder seasons.

Here, in Palaena, the staff have already removed blankets and stacks of firewood from the hearths in every room in the castle, as well as near Jerrick's and my claimed area of the library.

Tunics and trousers are a new constant for me, noting how much cooler it is to be in them with the temperatures rising versus stuck in a comfortable lounge chair in regal attire, pinching and tugging at the seams.

I thank the Makers Niko and Betina have still only seen me in my day gowns and dressing robes. If their reaction to the news about Jerrick is anything, I don't even want to imagine how they'd react if they saw me in a tunic and trousers.

"H-How did you come to find this out?" Betina asks.

Niko focuses on me, envy and rage replacing his shock.

I remind myself his anger is not directed at me, just the situation. But it still does not make being underneath his scornful gaze any easier.

"He told me and then proceeded to use his powers on me."

Niko steps up to the vanity, lethal calm forming his own line of questioning. "What did he make you do?"

"The king did not make me do anything," I reassure him.

His eyes soften, but I can still see the fury and violence he wants to extract on Palaena and their king. It is evident in his demeanor.

I convey as much love as possible to Niko. "All I felt him doing was awakening my powers while also dissolving them."

Betina stands and approaches. "But how do you know that was him and not you? He has already kept information from you. Who is to say this isn't just another lie?"

Niko nods in agreement, but I turn down her logic. "I have always been able to tell when my magic awakens and when it quiets. So, I know he is not lying about that, at least."

"But what about your parents? The curse?" Niko asks.

I look away from his frustrated gaze, my mind reeling over everything Jerrick and I have already read so far about glamour magic, curses, and letters exchanged between my mother and his father. They validated Jerrick's story of their past involvement. Not to mention the ledger of Axidoria's cursed criminals proved that my mother could cast a curse.

That and Jerrick's dedication to our research has me believing even more truth in his tale.

He's the first to arrive and the last to leave each day. Deities, he might actually live in the library.

I toss aside Niko's question, putting my trust in Jerrick's actions and the proof of what I've read so far. "There is truth and evidence behind his statements. But I still do not believe that my mother killed herself and that Palaena was not involved with my father's death. Something still feels like it is missing."

The two of them are silent in their own contemplation.

"Did the king say when he would train you?" Betina asks.

"No," I grumble. "He said I had to earn that chance by helping him first."

Niko shakes his head. "What an asshole."

I shrug, familiar with people being assholes. There have been plenty of occasions when I've been one, too. I am sure Niko and Betina themselves have muttered how much of an asshole I can be when my grief is unbearable.

But each day I meet Jerrick in the library, I understand his cause a little bit more, finding him not as awful as I thought.

He did not associate with me because of his mistrust of my family, a sentiment I, too, hold close to my heart. But Jerrick put his issues aside when he chose to tell me everything and even offered a small token of peace. He is facilitating trade between Palaena and Axidoria, and if I ever earn the right, he will help train my gifts.

Even though Jerrick went about telling me everything in a fragmented way, I find myself empathizing with him.

"He told me he did not want to associate with the daughter of the woman who cursed him, and I get it," I tell Niko and Betina.

"You get it?" Niko protests.

I don't react to the sharp bite in his tone. "Palaena views Axidoria as Axidoria views Palaena—as the enemy."

Niko grimaces, angry and annoyed that I'm living with the enemy.

I place a hand on my heart. "I only get it because it is how I feel myself."

Those amber eyes flare as Niko seethes silently. "It's not because of anything else, right?"

Confusion draws my eyebrows together, not understanding his question.

Betina glances between us and lightly touches Niko's elbow. "Tove knows how hard you've already been working on calling the banners and training everyone."

Emotions strain in my throat, and my eyes water.

For the first time since talking to Niko, he relaxes, and the ache in my chest tightens at the strain I have put him under.

"Niko."

My voice strains.

His head drops, patting Betina's hand in thanks.

Her deep brown eyes offer me sympathy.

I mouth the words love you to her, and she does the same in return.

Betina peers out the window, checking the time of day.

I do the same, panicking when I realize I am running late for my standing appointment in the library with Jerrick.

She grabs Niko by the arm, ushering him out as she speaks. "Tove is running late. We need to let her go."

I hurry out of bed, carrying Mother's mirror with me as I watch Niko and Betina try to leave.

Niko's eyes find mine, and my heart springs out of my chest, hopeful to see his handsome, boyish grin. But his features remain stark as he warns, "Be careful."

My hope for him saying something else cracks my mood. I nod quickly, uttering the same to him. "You, too."