Page 32 of Where Shadows Bloom

Ofelia huffed, an auburn curl fluttering in front of her eyes. “Very well. Could you at least tell us where to find the library? Perhaps we’ll find her there.”

A guard pointed us in the correct direction, and we finally acquiesced and returned on our path to the library.

Ofelia smiled mischievously as she looked back at the door. “If there are all these guards and all this secrecy, whatever is in that hallmustbe something very important.”

“Something horrible,” I murmured.

“Something wonderful,” said Ofelia, her voice soft and dreamlike.

After a few minutes of walking through the splendorous halls, Ofelia and I stood before a massive set of golden doors. They were carved with leaves and flowers and fruits and vegetables—boasting the abundance of knowledge we would besure to find inside. I started to pull on one door’s handle, but Ofelia’s hand quickly touched mine, then drew back. My pulse ricocheted.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you something,” she said.

I turned to her, my fingers still curled around the door handle. “Yes, my lady?”

“You look beautiful today.”

My breath faltered as I turned to look at her. With Ofelia’s encouragement, I had asked the maids to change my wardrobe a bit, so they’d finally given me a pair of breeches and a waistcoat, simple and cream. They were practical, comfortable.Beautifulwas the word I would have reserved for her—her copper curls tucked back with a fabric rose, and the pale pink of her gown making all the freckles on her shoulders all the more prominent. For a fraction of a second, my thoughts veered into daydreams. Into kissing her shoulder, kissing each freckle, and then I cleared my throat and said, “My lady, you don’t need to—”

“I mean it. You were lovely in a gown, and you look beautiful in a suit.” She smiled like her words weren’t in danger of stopping my heart.

I didn’t know what to say to her remark. Instead, I stiffly pulled open the door for her, and she stepped across the stoop. She let out an excited gasp. I hastily joined her inside the library.

My mouth fell open. I had never seen so many books inmy life. Every wall from top to bottom was filled with them. It was almost obscene; no one man could possibly read so many books, surely! But even the deepest, most cynical part of myself could shut up long enough for me to recognize the library for what it was: a jewel. The spines of the books shone gold in the sunlight from a large, circular window. The books looked like gems lining the walls, every color of a prism.

The task of choosing only one to focus on seemed impossible. Then I saw that word, my favorite word both in meaning and in sound,poetry, and reached out to touch the spine of the book in front of me.

Something touched my shoulder, startling me. An old instinct was ready to claw and fight back—but it was Ofelia, her dark eyes glimmering in the sunshine. Without a word, she took my hand and pulled me down the aisle of bookcases.

The library was vast, with a ceiling that seemed as wide as a field, painted to show the heroes from different ballads and fairy tales. My neck ached trying to take in the immensity of the painting, and I felt a pang of unease for the poor painter who had to lie on their back creating such a wonder.

Among the shelves was nestled the occasional chair or desk, but none were occupied. I’d heard whispers long ago of how the palace was so large it housed a population the size of a city, and after the vast crowds I’d seen last night, I believed it. But it seemed absurd to me that they weren’there.

Ofelia halted in her stride through the library, her handstill curled tightly around mine.

Ahead of her was a desk covered in pages. A lady with grayish hair sat at the desk, her head slumped atop a stack of books. For a split second, my heart clenched painfully at her too-still posture, but Ofelia confidently strode forward, saying, “Madame?”

The woman jolted in her seat, looking up from behind round spectacles. Her hair, the faded yellow of tarnished silver, was all in disarray, and her pale cheeks had grown pink with surprise. “Gods! I didn’t see you. I—Can I help you?”

I followed close behind Ofelia, my fingers itching for my sword or my dagger. Any stranger could be a threat, just as any silhouette could be a Shadow.

“We’re looking for a ledger of all the people who’ve come and gone to the palace in the past few weeks,” said Ofelia. “Could you help us find it?”

The woman smiled, kindness etched in the lines of her face. “I should hope so. I’m the king’s librarian and registrar.” She rose to her feet, which did not do much to improve her stature; she was shorter than the already small Ofelia. But this was not as remarkable to me as her clothing. She was dressed as ornately as the rest of the court: a gown of shimmering silver fabric, with sleeves and skirts like full moons. It hardly seemed practical for a librarian.

“It’s nice to meet you, Madame—”

“Call me Eglantine, please. There should be no courtesyor stations in a room full of books—at least, that’s what I think.”

I liked her already.

Ofelia curtsied nonetheless and introduced herself. When I told the librarian my name, her eyes twinkled.

“You share the name of one of the great poets and playwrights from the south,” she noted.

My mouth popped open in amazement. The people I consorted with rarely made the connection.

“Lope named herself after him,” Ofelia said, her voice strangely gilded with pride.

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