Chapter 13

S leep escapes me once again as I wake up in a cold sweat for the tenth time tonight. Dreams of booted feet kicking my body, all to the beat of a hammer and anvil, and the lilted laugh of an elf tormenting me as I beg for a mercy that never came.

Pushing the light sheet off my body, I swing my legs around as I sit on the edge of the mattress. When I'd gotten ready for bed, I'd noticed the heavy blankets, but knew I couldn't sleep with all that extra weight, too used to sleeping only under a scrap of fabric despite the cold winter chill that seemed to plague us in the slave quarters. So, to make me feel more comfortable, Jayne had found a lighter sheet I could use. Despite that, the fact the mattress was so soft and felt as if it was swallowing me, I found myself tossing and turning all night.

I can see light creeping through the window at the far end of the room, so it can't be long until Jayne will come in to wake me. However, it's still too early for me to be up, and, as I glance at the twisted bedding adorning my plush mattress, I shudder. I'm still exhausted from yesterday's labour, even after Grayson healed my injuries, but I can't find rest here.

Standing up, I turn and grab the sheets and one of the many pillows that adorn the bed. I carry my load over to the rug in front of the unlit fireplace in my room and kneel to construct a makeshift bed. After folding one sheet on the ground and placing the pillow on one end, I lie down and pull the final sheet over myself. Instantly I feel better, more settled, like some part of me felt as if it didn't belong in the huge, luxurious bed, especially while hundreds of children are enslaved and sleeping on rough stone floors.

I'm not sure how long I'm down there for, but I must have fallen asleep because when I next open my eyes, I see Jayne frowning down at me. And there's light streaming in through the now open curtains.

"Why are you on the floor?" She sounds more confused than frustrated, but I can tell she's angry, so I push myself into a sitting position, my cheeks going pink as I glance over to the bed. I was hoping to put the bed back together again before she came into the room, I didn't want her thinking I'm ungrateful, but she caught me before I had the chance. "Is there something wrong with the bed?"

"No, it's just…too soft, I feel like I'm sinking into it," I hurriedly explain, waiting for her to snap, to discipline me for wasting a perfectly good bed, or making the sheets dirty for putting them on the floor. She crosses her arms as she watches me squirm, not saying a word as I quickly work at gathering up the sheets, wincing when I see smudges of dirt.

"Why do you look like you're waiting for me to hit you?"

Avoiding her gaze, I place the pillow on the bed, brushing off any filth and dust that I find. "I made the sheets dirty…"

"I don't care about the sheets." Glancing over my shoulder, I see her watching me intently. I try to look for any signs of deception, to see if she's lying, but why would she lie about sheets? She's never hurt me or given me a reason not to trust her before.

"But you looked angry when you saw me on the floor."

"I'm angry because you looked so at home sleeping on the floor. No child should be comfortable sleeping on the floor..." She looks like she wants to say more, but she bites her lip, looking away for a second before turning back to me. "I'm angry at the situation, not the sheets, I promise."

Watching the older woman carefully, I hand over the sheets clutched to my chest as she holds out her arms for them. She's said similar things before, hints that she doesn't agree with having slaves, and I'm sure that Mary's public punishment is still bright in her mind. Perhaps there are more people out there that share her feelings, if they stood together and… No, the king would never allow it, they would be silenced before they could even utter a word. Jayne is quiet under my watchful gaze, simply depositing the old, dirty sheets, and pulling out a new set from a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. Eventually, she looks up, seeing me standing there awkwardly with nothing to do. She takes pity on me, her stern expression softening into a gentle smile as she gestures towards the bathroom.

"Go wash up, I'll help you dress when you're ready. Grayson is waiting in the dining room for you." Nodding gratefully, I hurry into the bathroom and run the bath, my mind thinking over the dream that was still plaguing my thoughts.

Now bathed and clothed in a rich blue day dress, I head towards the dining room, pausing outside the door to clear my mind. Brushing my hand down the front of the dress, I marvel again at the softness of the fabric. The floor-length dress is another variation of the deep blue the magicians wear, with a front panel that runs from waist to floor, which is embroidered with the Great Mother's symbol in golden thread. The top of the dress is fashioned to imply I have a cleavage, whilst still managing to cover most of it. A lace panel that extends from the neckline and forms a high collar hides the fact that my collarbone sticks out. The matching lace sleeves with wide cuffs must be custom made, as they effectively hide my slave marks while still showing off my Goddess mark.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the doors and walk into the dining room, my eyes cast down until I remember the role I'm supposed to be playing. Raising my head and meeting Grayson's gaze is harder than it should be, but he simply smiles and nods in approval.

"Good morning, Clarissa." His voice is deeper than usual this morning, almost husky, like I'm the first person he's spoken to today, and for some reason that makes me feel warm inside. "You're looking lovely today." My cheeks glow with a blush, my whole body feeling even warmer now as I'm tinged with embarrassment and pride at his compliment. He gestures for me to sit, so I walk up to the large dining table, taking the seat opposite him. The table is full of food, more than we could possibly eat, but I notice there is far less than the day before, which pleases me. When people are starving it seems grotesque to have that much food go to waste. Reaching toward a large metal pot, I scoop a ladle of porridge into my bowl—one of the only things I recognise and feel familiar with. A glass jar with a golden liquid catches my eye, the sweet smell making my mouth water.

"Try it." Caught out, I look up at the mage, who's watching me with a half smile, sipping at his cup of bitter coffee that he seems to like so much. Reaching out, I pick up the glass, noting the way the liquid moves. It's thick, more like a syrup than a juice like I thought it was. Lifting it to my nose, I inhale the sweet, slightly woodsy smell.

"What is it?"

"Honey. It's nice, sweet." At his assurance I reach for a spoon and scoop a small amount into my porridge, stirring it in. I'm acutely aware of his stare as I lift the spoon to my lips and let out a small surprised noise. He's right, it is nice. Reaching forward, I grab the jar again, pouring a large portion into my breakfast. Ignoring the chuckling magician, I eagerly mix the honey into the porridge, almost closing my eyes in bliss as the flavours burst on my tongue. It's rich, and after a few spoonfuls, I have to slow down, my stomach protesting after years of gruel and stale bread. As I reach for my glass of water, I feel a sticky wave of magic wash over me, and when I glance up, I see out of the corner of my eye that my hair is blonde again.

"I'm not working for the priests today?" When Jayne had dressed me in a gown this fine, I'd assumed that was the case, but I hadn't dare hope.

"No." His face darkens, and I have to fight the urge to look away, to cast my eyes downward, but this is Grayson, I need to get used to keeping eye contact if I'm to masquerade as a lady. Grayson puts down his coffee cup and leans back in his chair as he contemplates me. "I spoke with Priest Rodrick and we have come to an agreement. You get today off and will return tomorrow."

A mixture of relief and dread war within me. The thought of having a day's reprieve from the priests is one that makes me want to fall to my knees and thank the Mother. Returning tomorrow, whilst not surprising, makes my stomach twist with nerves. Grayson suddenly leans forward, reaching his hand across the table as if he was going to hold mine, to comfort me. "I have reiterated that you are no longer a slave and shouldn't be treated as such." He knows as well as I do that the priests, especially Rodrick, don't give a damn. To them I will always be Slave 625. Burying those thoughts, I idly stir my porridge.

"What am I required to do today?"

Smiling at my question, Grayson shrugs his shoulders. "You aren't required to do anything. I have to attend some meetings, so you have free time to do as you wish."

"Oh." Blinking, I lean back in my chair. Free time...to do whatever I wish...a concept I've never thought of before.

We finish up our breakfast, with Grayson making an awkward attempt at small talk with me which just makes us both cringe, before he heads out to his meetings. Standing up, I slowly walk through Grayson's rooms, contemplating what I could do with my free time when a shaft of sunlight lands on me from one of the arched windows. Lifting my hand, I examine it under the sunshine, enjoying the gentle heat that warms it. It still looks the same, faint pale scars marring the skin, but yet I feel like I'm seeing it in a whole new light. Turning to face the window, I gaze out and enjoy the view.

Grayson's rooms are blessed with an outside wall, so it looks out over the Black Cliffs of Morrowmer. It's beautiful, especially in the sunlight, which is trying to break through the clouds. There isn't much in Morrowmer except the city of Arhaven where our ancestors decided to settle and build the capital. There are stories of this land once being owned by the elves, saying we fought for the land. Although, many think the long-dead kings settled here because it is easily defendable against our enemies. The whole back of the castle is poised on the end of the cliff, the city sprawling before it, with large walls circling it, protecting it from the outside.

Deciding to make the most of the pleasant weather, I say my goodbyes to Jayne and head out into the corridor. I wish I had paid more attention when Grayson first brought me here, as these corridors all look the same and seem to be a maze. Eventually, I see sunlight illuminating the end of the hall and I hurry towards it, seeing that I've made it to the Queen's Courtyard. This is not where I was planning on coming, although, if I'm honest with myself, I didn't have a particular place in mind. But it's quiet and peaceful here, even if it is close to the chapel.

Shuddering at the thoughts of the priests, I shake my head and walk out into the courtyard, taking a seat near one of the tiled fountains, a small wooden bench built up against it for that very reason. Turning to look at the fountain closest to me, I admire the different colours and patterns on the tiles, the water crystal clear as it falls into the coloured basin. Each fountain is surrounded by beautiful flowers, their scents filling the air. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the tranquillity of being alone in this place, the gentle sound of the trickling water lulling me into a state of calm. I'm not sure how long I stay in the courtyard exploring each fountain, admiring the flowers, and just enjoying having the time to myself. No one comes through while I'm there until the sun reaches its apex in the sky, the bells of the clock tower tolling the midday meal, and then I hear the footsteps of others as they make their way towards the food hall.

The thought of entering the hall by myself, with everyone staring at me, is enough to make me feel sick. My stomach is still full from breakfast, so I decide that it's not worth the stress. Perhaps I'll just explore the castle some more ? Nodding at my new plan, I push up from the bench and walk down the corridor that's parallel to the one I'd entered the courtyard from. I don't think I've ever been down here before, it's quieter than the main corridors with little arched alcoves along the wall. There are no windows, but it's lit with lamps and it feels warm, welcoming. I let my mind wander as I walk, my hand brushing over the stone wall, thinking over everything that has happened in the last couple of days, how my life has changed completely. I feel blessed that the Mother has chosen me for some purpose, but I can't help but feel guilty. Not that I'm doubting the Mother, I know she has picked me for a reason, but I feel guilty that I was picked when the other slaves, children , are left to work until they die. I'd never thought about it much before, the injustice of it all, when I was one of them. What crime could I possibly have committed at the age of eight that deserved enslavement?

I'm so lost in thought that I don't notice the foot sticking out of one of the alcoves. I trip over it, stumbling to my knees with a surprised cry.

"Mother above!" a male voice cries out, and I feel my cheeks blazing red with a blush. I recognise the voice, but I can't quite place it. A hand reaches out and rests on my arm and I look up, my eyes widening in dismay. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Prince Jacob asks, a smile spreading across his face as he realises who I am, his eyebrow raising, giving him a charming, if not cheeky appearance. "Lady Clarissa of Lake Haven, why do I always find you at my feet?"

"Your Highness." I pull away fast, as if his touch burns, realising I just tripped over a royal. If this had been Rhydian, his older brother and the heir to the throne, then this could have ended really badly. I don't know much about the eldest prince, but I've heard stories that make me shudder. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there, I was lost in my thoughts..." I ramble as I try to stand, my feet getting tangled in the skirts of my dress, and it's only when he reaches out to steady me, his hand landing lightly on my waist, that I realise something. "You remembered my name." It's more of a statement than a question, but he answers me anyway.

"Of course I remembered your name, you intrigued me."

So much for keeping a low profile. If anything, more people seemed to notice me now—the pale stranger who arrived at the ball on the arm of one of the magicians, and left with another. I have no answer for the prince's statement, and I flounder, trying to come up with something to say. My conversation skills are severely lacking after twelve years of being mostly silent. Thankfully, the prince saves me by asking me a question.

"Where were you heading? Not many dare to venture down to the royal family's private quarters." His smile turns into a grin and I feel myself paling as he speaks.

I was entering their private quarters? Shouldn't there be guards stopping people from coming down here? Something seems to occur to him and his smile dims, a hint of a frown pulling at his brow. "Were you here to see my brother?" He tries to keep his voice neutral, non-judgemental, but I can tell that my answer is important.

"No!" Realising what he's implying, my eyes widen even further. I don't know why, but I need him to know I wasn't going to see his brother. "I had no idea, I am so sorry, I was just exploring, I—" My words come out in a rush and I can feel my hands start to shake again, his keen eyes picking up on my movements.

"It's okay, I believe you." His touch leaves my waist and he captures my hand, which was quivering slightly. "You were exploring?" His face softens, and I notice he starts to rub his thumb over the back of my hand in a way I'm sure he thinks is comforting, but instead awakens something inside me. "Why don't I live up to my promise and show you the library?" I hadn't really been paying attention to what he was saying, my focus on the movements of his thumb, but at the word library my ears perk and I finally meet his eyes.

"I would like that."

His smile is so bright that he almost blinds me with it, and guilt rises within me. I'm not who he thinks I am. He lets go of my hand and turns, reaching back into the alcove he'd been sitting in. Peering around him, I realise that a sitting area had been built into it, a closed book resting on one of the cushions. Picking up the tome, he tucks it under one arm and offers his free one to me. "In that case, allow me to escort you, Lady Clarissa."

Linking my arm with his lightly, I duck my head, waiting for him to say he was joking or that he made a mistake. "Thank you, Your Highness." He reaches out and touches my chin, making me flinch away from him at the sudden gesture. He pauses, his hand hanging in the space between us, his eyes narrowing for a second before he slowly lowers his hand, placing it on my shoulder instead.

"Please, when it's just the two of us, call me Jacob." I open my mouth to protest—I couldn't possibly call one of the princes by his first name—but at his raised eyebrow I simply shrug. He starts to walk, and as I'm tucked against his side, I simply follow. Thankfully, he treads slowly, my feet still unused to these shoes that Jayne insists I wear. We stroll in silence for a few seconds, and I'm not quite sure what comes over me when I turn my head to look at him, our eyes meeting.

"Then you must call me Clarissa."

I seem to take him by surprise, but he simply smiles again and nods in agreement. "Very well, Clarissa."

We walk again in silence for a couple of minutes, but it's a comfortable silence, and I'm grateful for it. I would never know what to say to one of the princes. We don't see many people as we walk, but those we do see quickly bow, and I don't miss the stares and the whispers.

Who is she? Why is the prince with her? Where is she from?

The whispers seem to follow us, like they're being carried on a phantom wind, my insecurities shadowing us.

"So how does High Mage Grayson know you?" Jacob inquires casually, but I get the impression he's looking for a certain answer. I'm not sure how much Grayson has told them, and I bite my lip as I consider my reply.

Keep it simple, tell him only the basics.

"We grew up together in… Lake Haven." If he notices my stumble over the name of a town I supposedly grew up in, then he doesn't point it out, simply nodding. He is very good at making his voice even when he speaks about Grayson, but I can't help but pick up on the tightening of the muscles around his eyes every time the mage is mentioned. "You don't like him?"

Jacob looks at me quickly, surprise coating his words. "You're very observant." It's not a question, so I simply nod in agreement. When seventy percent of someone's communication is in their body language, and you're one second away from receiving a beating, it pays to be able to read what they're not saying out loud. "It's not that I don't like him, I have nothing against the mage personally," he explains, shooting glances at me, probably worried I'm going to run back and tell Grayson every word he says. "It's magic I have a problem with." This surprises me, and I'm sure he can tell as he nods at my unspoked reaction. "It's brought us many technological advances, and the magicians fight our war—we would be far worse off without them. I just...it seems like an abuse of the Mother's power." I stay silent for a moment after he finishes clarifying, thinking over his words. He has a point, the magicians don't always carry out the Great Mother's will, and there is nothing making them use the power for good.

"But if she grants them the power, surely she is happy for them to use it as they need?" I muse. A look of surprised delight enters his eyes as I challenge him, like a part of him is waking up.

"That's the difference, Clarissa. She's given them this power, and it's their job to use it in a way that suits her purpose." He echoes my earlier thoughts, cutting off as a couple of courtiers walk past us, bowing to the prince before disappearing around the corner. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't like how powerful they are, their seemingly limitless power—it makes me nervous. What's to stop them from trying to take over the kingdom?" He's right, and in a way, I agree with him, but there are some, like Grayson, that would never allow that.

"They never have before, why would they begin now?" My question seems to change something about him, his face darkening, and for a second I think I've offended him. He pulls me to a stop, lowering his voice as he pulls me closer to him so only I can hear.

"Things are changing, Clariss—" His voice low, urgent, until a cough has him pulling away.

"Prince Jacob." Turning to face the person who spoke, I instantly decide I need to avoid this individual. He stands with his hands behind his back, his chest puffed out as he stares down his nose at us, and a fake smile is pasted across his face. I don't know what it is about this person that I dislike, but every fibre of my being is screaming that this man is bad news.

The change in the prince is immediate. His friendly smile disappears and a careful mask slips into place, much like Grayson when we leave his rooms. Jacob is standing so straight at the arrival of the newcomer that I realise for the first time how tall he is. The stranger takes a step closer, his eyes running over me and landing on my chest. Without realising I've taken a step closer to the prince, I feel Jacob tighten his grip on my arm instinctively.

"Advisor Merritt," the prince reluctantly greets the man, to which the man gives him a spindly smile. He reminds me of a spider, waiting in a twisted web to reach out and grab his next victim.

"It's nice to see you without your nose in a book." That's a backhanded compliment, I think. But the prince just snorts a laugh. I'm surprised this man is able to blatantly insult one of the royal princes. Who is he ?

"Ah, well, you will be disappointed to know that I am just escorting Lady Clarissa to the library. Plenty of books for us to get lost in there, I'm sure." Jacob's tone of voice is anything but friendly, and I get the impression that there is no love lost between these two.

"So, this is Lady Clarissa." Advisor Merritt turns his head to look at me, his beady eyes boring into me. His tongue pokes out between thin lips as he licks them slightly, the movement making me shudder. I try to pass it off as a shiver in the drafty corridor, but I know I don't manage to pull it off. "I've heard much about you and your…unusual choosing ceremony. I expect great things from you." I've been in some situations that still give me nightmares, so I know, deep down, that this man promises pain—his whole aura radiates violence.

"We must be leaving, Advisor. The books aren't very patient." Jacob is already leading me away as he speaks, and the advisor makes a noise of disgust but simply nods. However, I keep watching him as we walk away and I don't miss the look of pure hatred he shoots at the prince before his eyes shift and lock with mine. Like a bolt of electricity shoots down my spine, I gasp, my body arching. If it weren't for the prince holding me up, I would have fallen to the ground.

"Clarissa! Are you okay?" Jacob sounds panicked, like he actually cares for my safety, which seems ludicrous given the fact he only met me the other day.

" He's dangerous. Leave the library early tonight, don't go back after the evening meal ." Staring up at the ceiling, back bowed, I have no idea where these words are coming from, except that I have this surety that if the prince doesn't heed my words, he will be in great danger.

"What are you saying?" I can hear the frown in his voice, laced with a tinge of fear. "How do you know I go to the library in the evenings?"

As quickly as it came, the feeling leaves my body, all except for a tingling in the small of my back and by my Goddess mark on my wrist. Absentmindedly, I rub at my wrist until the prince pulls my hand away, exposing the glowing mark. "I don't know what just happened, but I have a really bad feeling about that man. Who is he?" Jacob simply stares at the mark before raising his wide eyes to my own.

"Merritt is one of my father's advisors. A fowl man, but I never would've thought he'd pose a risk to me." He frowns as he helps me stand, taking a step back from me, appearing lost in thought. A flash of fear runs through me, but I realise after a second it's not my terror, more like an echo of fear, of a feeling that will come to pass. I suddenly know with a surety I can't explain that I'm feeling Jacob's future fear. Reaching out, I grab his wrist, pulling him to a stop. The prince frowns at my arm. I'm sure I'm gripping him tight enough to hurt, but as he looks up at me his expression softens as he takes me in.

"Don't underestimate him." My voice shakes with the echo of fear that's seeping through me, my body trembling slightly. Whether it's my words, the surety in my eyes, or some little voice that whispers to him like the one that guides me, he nods.

"Okay, I won't. I promise." Taking a step closer to me, he places his other hand on my shoulder, lowering his voice so only I can hear him. "I'll return straight to my rooms tonight. I promise, Clarissa."

Suddenly aware of many sets of eyes watching us, I take a step back from the prince, putting space between us. I'm not sure where or when the advisor disappeared, but since then the corridor seems to have filled with people, all of whom are pretending not to watch us.

"Would you still like to visit the library? Or would you like to retire to your rooms?" I can tell that he's expecting me to answer with the latter, and perhaps that's what a real lady would do, but I have no intention of doing so.

"Of course I'd still like to see the library!" I exclaim. Does he not want to take me there anymore after my little outburst? A sense of disappointment that I'm not prepared to examine rolls through me, but I shake it away. "Why, do you need to be elsewhere?"

"No!" he replies hurriedly, before smiling ruefully at me. "You're not what I expected." Offering me his arm again, I look at it critically like it might bite me before nodding and linking my arm with his. He snorts with laughter and starts to lead me towards the library.

"Is that a bad thing?" I query after a couple of seconds. I had debated not saying anything, I'm supposed to be blending in, after all, but everything I do just seems to make me stand out all the more. Besides, I want to know his answer.

"No! You're the first lady I have found that I can actually have a debate with, without you simpering and answering only to please me," he explains, as we walk through the castle, dipping his head in acknowledgment to the lords and courtiers who pass us. I follow his lead, not sure on the protocol for greeting others whilst I'm with the prince. After a pause, I realise he's waiting for me to reply, and I scramble for something to say.

"Ah, I was raised differently." Not a lie, he has no idea how differently I was raised. If he realises that he's arm in arm with one of the slaves that serve in his castle…I don't even want to think of the consequences.

"I think I should visit Lake Haven," he says with a little laugh, and I respond with one of my own, deciding his comment doesn't need an answer. It's better to keep my mouth shut so I don't dig myself into any more holes.

The prince continues to lead me through the corridors. The library is on the opposite side of the chapel, built onto the back of the castle. I've never been, but I've seen it from outside. The walls are rounded, covered with gleaming windows. It looks beautiful at night, with lights shining out, the large glass dome on top making it appear as if it's glimmering. I'm filled with excitement at the prospect of going inside, not that I'd be able to read anything, but the prince doesn't need to know that. Reaching the large double doors, I look up with awe at the beautiful carvings etched deep into the wood, with golden accents painted to highlight the beauty of the work. The doors are open, but I have to wonder how they managed to move them, given as they are four times the height of a man and thicker than my torso. As soon as the prince guides me through into the library, the whole atmosphere seems to change. My jaw drops as I take in the opulent room—it's easily as big as the ballroom, if not bigger. It's six floors tall with the domed ceiling making it even higher. The ceiling is painted with beautiful depictions of flowers and plants around the glass dome. There's a large open space with desks for studying in the middle, the natural light from the large windows making it a perfect place to read. Rows upon rows of large bookshelves fill up the rest of the space, with wooden ladders strategically placed around the room available to reach the higher shelves. The large, curved windows along the back wall have a carpeted area before it, complete with comfortable looking leather seats. Two spiral staircases parallel to each other lead up to the next floor, golden handrails gleaming.

"Your Highness," a gentle voice greets, pulling me out of my dazed stare. A middle-aged lady is pushing up from her desk to the right of the large doors, which I'd missed as when we'd walked in, my attention was fully caught on the room. She has a kind face, but I get the impression she could be a force to be reckoned with if you were on her bad side.

"Annalise, this is Lady Clarissa of Lake Haven, she is new here and wanted to see the library." I smile slightly at the woman, clasping my hands in front of me as her gaze takes me in. For some reason, I want this woman to like me. "Clarissa, this is Annalise, the head librarian. She's in charge of the library and there is nothing that she doesn't know," Jacob states with a large grin, laughing as Annalise rolls her eyes, her lips pulling into an amused smile.

"That's very kind of you to say, Your Highness," she replies with a fondness that gives me the impression she's used to him saying things like this. It's Jacob's turn to roll his eyes dramatically.

"Oh, come now, don't start that ‘Your Highness' nonsense again, I've only just trained you out of it."

Laughing again she inclines her head toward me. "You have company." Jacob raises his eyebrow and turns his head to look down at me.

"Clarissa doesn't mind, do you?" Eyes widening, I take a small step backward, or at least I attempt to, but Jacob is still holding onto my arm so he simply pulls me back to him.

"Don't put her on the spot, that's cruel. Wicked boy," Annalise chides, but it's with a long-suffering smile that piques my interest. These two interact in a way that is far more familiar than librarian and prince type relationships. Studying the two of them, I can't help but wonder what relationship they share. I'm pretty sure they're not romantically involved, it's more like that of mother and son. Feeling my stare, Annalise turns and offers me a smile, but I get the impression she's examining me as much as I am her. "What do you think of my library, Clarissa?"

Caught unaware, I blink but glance at the library around us, answering honestly as a small smile graces my face again. "I've never seen anything as magical. It's beautiful."

"I like this one. She's much better than the simpering fools that usually follow you around." Jacob makes a startled sound at her backhanded compliment, which I'm sure is her way of testing me out.

"Annalise!" Jacob barks, his voice sharp, but I stop him with a gentle hand on his chest.

"I like this one," I tell him, repeating Annalise's words, tilting my head to the side as if examining her closely. "She tells the truth unlike the other simpering fools who have tried to get your attention today." Annalise chuckles as she winks at me, reaching forward and capturing my hand in hers.

"You and I are going to get on well."

After meeting Annalise, Jacob takes me on a tour of the library. I can feel his gaze on me as I walk slowly beside him, my eyes wide with awe, fingers trailing over the spines of some of the books. I love it here. The hushed, comfortable quiet, only able to hear the whisper of turning pages, the scribble of pen on paper, and the muted voice of Annalise at the front desk. Even the smell of the books is comforting, like it's triggering an old memory at the corner of my mind, but not quite enough for it to come fully.

We spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, just exploring the hidden coves and treasures, before the sunset bell tolls to indicate the evening meal. Jacob walks me back to Grayson's rooms, and as we reach the door we both pause awkwardly. I don't know how these things usually go, should I curtsy, or—

"Thank you for making my dull afternoon all the more interesting, Clarissa."

"I enjoyed myself, thank you for showing me the library. I loved it."

"Good." He smiles and I can tell he wants to say more, but for whatever reason he holds his tongue and starts to walk away.

"Wait!" I call out, the echo of urgency from earlier still ringing through my mind. He turns, a hopeful expression on his face. "Remember what I told you earlier."

His face darkens at the memory, but he nods, taking my hand in his and raising it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the skin there.

"Good night, Clarissa."