Page 77 of Kingmakers, Year Three

She opens her mouth to attack me in return, only to be interrupted by Miss Robin’s surprisingly sharp voice.

“What happened here?” she demands.

Lola instantly reverts to her innocent smile and sing-song voice.

“Cat spilled her milk,” she says sweetly. “I told her food isn’t allowed in the library.”

“She spilled it on her own head?” Miss Robin says coldly. “How ingenious of her.”

Lola shrugs shamelessly. “She’s so clumsy.”

“You’re banned from the library,” Miss Robin says without hesitation. “For one month.”

“What!?” Lola shrieks. “How am I supposed to study for our exams?”

“I really don’t give a shit,” Miss Robin says. “Now get out before I make you mop up this mess with that fancy little blouse you’re wearing.”

Lola is white with anger, her expression venomous.

The usually shy and gentle Miss Robin faces her unafraid, her hazel eyes snapping and her arms crossed over her chest.

Lola is wise enough not to argue further. She and Dixie skulk off down the ramp, while Rakel tries to gather up the sodden textbooks.

“Sorry about that,” I say to Miss Robin.

I really do feel awful about soaking the table and rug in milk, even though it wasn’t exactly voluntary.

I’m still dripping milk right now, which makes it difficult to help clean up. Also, my soaked white shirt is now transparent, a fact the boys at the neighboring table have not failed to notice. Corbin Castro mutters something to Thomas York and they both laugh. My face burns.

“There’s paper towels over by my desk,” Miss Robin tells Rakel kindly. “Cat, why don’t you come upstairs with me. I’ve got a sink; you can clean up. You can borrow a cardigan, too.”

“Thank you,” I say gratefully.

I follow Miss Robin up the spiraling ramp to the topmost level, trying unsuccessfully not to leave a trail of droplets along the rug.

The library is always chilly, which is probably why Miss Robin wears three or four sweaters layered over top of each other, the sleeves long enough to hang down over her hands. The milk was fresh out of the dining hall fridge, and I’m shivering.

Miss Robin stretches up on tiptoe to pull down the ladder that leads to her private loft.

I feel a little awkward following her up. I’ve never been inside a teacher’s quarters before.

The compact, circular space sits directly under the pointed roof. I notice at once how tidy and organized she is, not a single cup or book out of place. Despite the fact that the library is stuffed with thousands of books, Miss Robin keeps dozens more upon her personal shelves. A low couch, a narrow bed, and a hot plate all share the same space.

No art hangs upon the walls—instead, I see dozens of the weathered maps and schematics upon which Miss Robin labors in pursuit of her doctoral thesis on ancient monasteries. She has them pinned up all around, several marked with post-it notes.

“Don’t tell the Chancellor about those,” Miss Robin says with a conspiratorial smile. “I don’t think you’re supposed to stick a post-it to a seven-hundred-year-old document, but to be frank, they were hardly in pristine condition when I got them. The archives are an absolute mess. Half those charts were soaked in mouse urine and god knows what else.”

She opens a hobbit-sized door leading to her bathroom.

“Watch your head,” she laughs. “I think they expected all the librarians to be pocket-sized.”

“I am, so I’ll be fine,” I assure her.

I head into the bathroom, which is just as scrupulously clean as the rest of Miss Robin’s space. A fresh pat of soap sits upon a pristine dish, and the hand-towels are freshly laundered, folded neatly over their bar.

I can smell Miss Robin’s perfume. I can’t resist locating the glass bottle sitting on the toiletry shelf. Givenchy L’Interdit—orange blossom, jasmine, and dark vetiver. Exotic and rather thrilling for a librarian. But of course, I’ve long suspected that Miss Robin has hidden stores of adventurousness inside of her. After all, she came to this lonely island to work, and she certainly had no trouble telling Lola to fuck off.

I grin, remembering Lola’s livid face, as I carefully set the bottle back on its shelf.

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