Page 44 of Crown of Roses
Lir eyed the pile of books. “Let me help.”
He took most of the books into his arms without waiting for a response, and the Old Laic history book fell to the ground. He was faster than she expected and swooped it up, dropping it carefully onto the small tower of books. He skimmed the title and his lips pursed. “What do you know of the old language?”
Needles of apprehension poked along her spine. She couldn’t gauge his tone. She didn’t know if he meant to mock her or if he was simply curious. So, she shifted her weight, and went with honesty. “Admittedly, not much. I know I can recognize it when I hear it. But it takes a lot of effort to understand the meaning. Reading it, however, is another beast entirely.”
The faintest hint of a smile graced Lir’s lips, then vanished. “It’s like that for us, too.”
Us. Them. The fae. Not her.
They returned to her bedroom and Lir stacked the pile of books on the floor near the bed. Then he walked out without another word and stood in the hall across from her door.
Maeve followed him. “Will you be posted here all night?”
Again, he didn’t respond.
“Okay. Well, goodnight. Thanks for helping me with the books.”
“It’s not me you should be thanking, Your Highness.” His gaze darted down each direction of the corridor and he kept his voice low. “And be wary to whom you extend your gratitude.”
Right. The last thing she wanted was to be indebted to a fae for their help in carrying books or some other trivial task.
“Of course.” She offered a small smile and slipped back into her bedroom. “I’ll take that to heart.”
She carefully undressed, and hung the delicate gown in the empty wardrobe. There were a few large drawers on the inside and she pulled them open to see if she could find something to sleep in that wasn’t made of lace. Several fancy underthings, all of which she had no desire to wear, caught her eye, so she just tugged on her old white blouse since it fell to mid-thigh anyway. The Aurastone would go beneath her pillow, and she set her belt of throwing stars on the nightstand. Wonder overcame her when she realized her bathroom had a proper soaking tub. One day, she reminded herself. One day she would bask in warm, scented waters and smile while rose petals floated around her. But, today was not that day. Maeve scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth, then grabbed two books and took them to the balcony.
Balmy summer air slid over her skin and grazed her bare legs like a lover’s caress. She took a long, deep breath, and her blood hummed in a warm, welcoming sensation. The blood curse made her comfortable here, she realized. It was as though the magic coursing through her recognized Faeven as home, and knew its creation stemmed from the land, the seas, the skies, and realm. Unnerved, she dropped her books onto a cushioned lounge chair that was positioned on the balcony just outside the glass door overlooking the Crown City of Niahvess. From her vantage point, she could see the dazzling display of lights and the shadowy outline of rooftops and palm trees. The soothing lullaby of gentle waves echoed in the distance and she knew that out there, in the eternal night where the stars dipped beyond the horizon, was the sea.
She settled onto the lounge chair and grabbed the first book on top of the stack. Its thin pages were like satin between her fingers, and with the bewitching thrum of a guitar playing from somewhere far away, Maeve settled in to read.
Her mind devoured the words as she read about beastly winged creatures, glittering birds made of starlight, and solitary fae who lurked in dark forests to steal secrets, borrow memories, and collect dreams. She didn’t notice when the tome felt heavy in her lap, or when her eyes fluttered closed for good.
When Maeve woke to the sounds of birdsong and the glow of dawn, she found herself still on the balcony curled into the chaise. The last book she’d been reading was closed, and the page was marked with a slip of paper. An azure blanket of downy fabric was draped over her, and her skin was kissed by morning dew.
Chapter Fifteen
Maeve jolted upright and almost toppled out of the chair.
Someone had been in her room during the night. Well, technically not in her room, she was on the balcony, after all. She’d left her door unlocked because Lir had been standing just outside of it. Surely if she’d been in any kind of grave danger, he would’ve done something…at least, she told herself as much.
The slip of paper tucked into Aran’s book caught her eye.
She carefully pulled it out and her breath caught in the back of her throat.
* * *
Summer looks good on you.
* * *
Goosebumps broke out over her flesh and the breeze flowing in from the sea tickled the hairs on her neck. She read the words again, studied the smooth lines of the script, and the way the ink blotted at the end of the sentence. It was a leisurely, casual note. Nothing written in haste. The knock on her bedroom door jarred her out of her stupor and she jumped up off the chaise.
“Come in!” she called, then grabbed the books and blanket, and dumped them hastily on the bed as Deirdre waltzed into the room.
“Morning, love. I’ve brought you another dress…” Deirdre’s gaze shifted to the dumped books on the unused bed, then back to her. “Gracious, did you sleep outside all night?”
Maeve tugged on the hem of her blouse, which now seemed indecent, and embarrassment colored her cheeks. “I fell asleep reading.”
The old woman’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. “There are worse ways to fall asleep, I suppose.”
