Page 87 of The Keeper of the Kingdoms

The scent was thick but not of dust—of fresh parchment and ink and leather. The smell of books was overwhelming in the best way.

“Did you spend hours upon hours here when you were visiting Gran?”

“Always. Some nights, she had to drag me out at bedtime.” She smiled over at me. “I’m going to speak to the curator to see if she can point me in the right direction.”

“Is that wise?” I asked, meeting her eyes.

“They are appointed by my family. Their vows keep their silence, even within our clan.” She nodded like she had to reassure herself as well as me.

I followed her around and down to the base level where the librarians worked or sat at desks. She found one she seemed to know and spoke in hushed tones. I lingered, head tipped back, watching the many levels. The fae on the highest levels looked like ants.

How many stories did it stretch? I’d have to ask Kiera later.

She returned a few moments later. “We are going up. Nearly to the top.”

I looked at the stairs, glad the first flight had kept me in decent shape. We took them with Kiera in front of me. And she needed many breaks. I thought about picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way, but I knew she’d never forgive me.

When she stopped for the third time, I found a chair for her to sit on and dropped to one knee in front of her. “Is there not a better way?”

“No, there isn’t.”

“What about for those who can’t get up the stairs? Surely, it needs to be accessible.” I glanced around for a solution.

“There are chairs that float. But those are reserved for?—”

I cut her off, “For those who need them?”

She shook her head, pressing a hand into her chest. “I’m fine as long as I rest.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked, alarm creeping into my voice as I put a hand on her cheek.

She pushed my hand away, giving a little shake of her head. “We can’t. Not here. Not when—” She didn’t have to finish. She was betrothed, and others knew it. We’d taken a risk at the river.

“I understand,” I redirected, trying a different way. “We are in a place full of healers. Won’t one of them come look at you?”

“Gran checked me over this morning. I’m okay, I swear.”

I took her word for it, even if I didn’t fully believe it, and pushed to my feet. “Can I not fetch the book for you?”

“No, I must search through the section and see if it even pertains to what I’m looking for.”

I ground my teeth, frustration filtering through my blood. I didn’t want to scare her, but as a healer, she should know pushing herself could cause permanent damage. And as someone who understood the delicate intricacies of healing more than most, I knew she should be letting her body recover. She was used to being overworked and not taking the time she needed for proper rest, but now that our magic had started to meld, I got a view of just how badly she’d depleted herself.

It strained our bond, pulling magic from my reserve constantly because she didn’t even have enough left for her life force. Not that I would ever deny her all the magic I possessed, but I wanted her to rebuild her own so she wasn’t running on empty constantly.

“What would you say to a patient if they were like this?”

“I would tell them to trust their own bodies.”

“And are you trusting yours right now?”

She hesitated, “I’m trying to.”

This had to be the culture of their entire clan. Or maybe it was a broader issue in the Twelve Kingdoms. After seeing how the military operated, I wouldn’t be surprised if they all overworked themselves.

Nyx barely had any time to recover after his battle with Octavius and his brother dying. Before he was thrust into the position of leadership, I just felt like the Twelve Kingdoms and the King were failing everyone at every turn.

I didn’t know what I could do, but if I could affect a small change, maybe it would create a domino effect or at least protect those I cared about. We really couldn’t afford to lose any more dragons or healers, having both depleted to where they were burning life force to use their magic. Would it shorten their lives?

---