Page 5 of The Throne Seeker
Tristan shot her nervous glances now and again as if he were double-checking that she was real and not just a figment of his imagination.
If she was honest, she fought hard not to do the same.
At last, they reached her favorite part of the castle—a place where she used to spend hours upon hours.
The library.
It was just as she remembered: antique cathedral windows lined the west wall, with Cathan’s symbol hand-painted onto each panel. Books were neatly dusted and organized in alphabetical order. As usual, the library was empty around lunchtime.
The impressive collection of books covered a diverse range, including the history of Vallor, enchanted artifacts, herbology, and various magical creatures like dragons, sirens, and other beasts. No one knew exactly why Cathan had retained so little magic within its borders after Argarion Atticus split Vallor into seven provinces. Some speculated the land had lent its loyalties to those it favored, while others believed it was an equalization of power. Magic was a fickle thing, she’d discovered, almost an entity of its own.
Rose approached one of the wooden bookshelves, running her fingertips over the spines.
A small, delighted smile crept onto her lips.
“Do you still read?” Tristan asked from behind her.
She kept her gaze on the books. “Not as much as I used to. I haven’t had the time or the luxury lately.”
“You always were the smartest of us,” he admitted. “Reciting phrases and quotes right out of a textbook. Our tutor favored you for it. I’d get so jealous that she let you leave before the rest of us.”
“Well, I was easy to love,” she teased, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with a small shrug. She froze, realizing what she’d said. She threw him an uneasy glance.
“Yes…” His longing eyes slid to catch hers. “Yes, you were.”
She swallowed hard, averting her gaze.
She spotted her favorite bench nestled in front of a large, golden-framed window. The sun’s rays filtered through the dust swirling in the air onto the dark-green cushions—the precise ones she used to read on. How she used to love looking out while she read, especially when it rained. She had always found the pattering splashes on the glass a soothing comfort.
“I remember that night we went into an absolute panic not being able to find you,” Tristan recalled. “We searched high and low, worried you’d gotten lost or hurt somewhere in the woods. Until we realized we hadn’t checked in here.” Tristan’s mouth slid up into a handsome smile. “And there you were, right on that cushion. Book and mouth wide open, planted on it fast asleep.”
Her mouth mirrored his; she remembered all too well. “My mother was furious with me. I was forbidden from playing with you all for a week.”
“Little did she know I’d sneak into your room to keep you company.” His eyes lit with mischief.
“You even pillaged the kitchens to bring me food.”
“It was worth every minute of the hour it took to get that damn shortcake from the kitchen to your room without being noticed.” He gave a short laugh.
She raised her brows. “You brought me shortcake?” she asked, not recalling the small detail.
“It was your favorite, wasn’t it?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Unable to find her voice, she felt lost at sea in his eyes. “Yes,” she replied softly. “Still is.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She cleared her throat, disappearing between another set of bookshelves.
They weaved their way through the jungle of shelves, passing by the librarian, a short and stern woman who peered at them from behind spectacles as she wheeled a cart brimming with books to be sorted. Rose offered a brief hello and a small smile before continuing through the walnut aisles. Her fingers brushed against the spines again as if reconnecting with long-lost friends.
They had just paused before a tall cathedral window to admire the sea when Tristan spoke. “You look better,” he stated in a less formal tone. “Why’d you wait so long to come back?”
She fixed her eyes on the infinite blue horizon. “After my father’s death, my mother needed time away, and so did I.”
Tristan’s gaze bore into the side of her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I ever got to say that to you.”
She strained to plaster a smile on her face. “Thank you. But you don’t need to be. We’re doing much better.”
“If I’d known sooner that he’d passed, I would’ve come to you.”
