Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Emilie
“Have you seen the book about nocturnal flowers? The one with a black rose on the front… kind of dusty and falling apart?”
I looked up from my current textbook when I didn’t get a response.
The Harpy was around here somewhere, though it would’ve been hard to spot her through the stacks on the desk in front of me.
I must’ve read through a thousand books from the Castelli’s library, and none of them had led me to the cure for Cyrus.
At this point, the search had become more of a distraction from unpleasant memories than a successful pursuit of knowledge.
I leaned over in my seat, searching beyond my cave of tomes to see where the Harpy had run off to. She was supposed to be helping me with my pursuit of an answer, but she was known to flit around while I stayed planted at the desk. Perhaps she had gone to another floor.
Placing a crumpled bit of parchment inside my book, I closed it and stood, stretching my legs. How long had I been sitting here? I yawned and craned my neck, searching for the gilded clock on the wall. It was still early, but I’d been awake for hours.
The room was quiet, even for a library, but I strained my ears and listened for the sound of footsteps or books sliding across a shelf—any indication that I wasn’t alone.
When I heard a noise to my left, I followed without a second thought. Turning the corner, I found the Harpy sitting on the floor, her black wings tucked awkwardly between her body and the shelf she leaned against. Her feathers ruffled as her eyes roamed the pages of the book in her lap.
She didn’t look up as I approached, nor when I took a seat on the hard floor next to her. “What did you find?”
Finally, she tore her eyes from the book and stared at me with big, haunted eyes. I often wondered what her story was, but she couldn’t recall much before her time with Reyna. She couldn’t remember where she was from or who her family was.
My heart broke for her. The only memories she had were of torture and captivity. Hopefully she’d be able to make new ones in Renoa.
She gently guided the book into my hands and pointed.
I skimmed the fable of a moon goddess sent down from the heavens to protect the innocent and heal the broken. My shoulders slumped, and I frowned. “This is children’s story. I don’t think we can count on an imaginary figure to heal Cyrus.”
But the Harpy shook her head, pointing again to the ink on the page and then to her chest. She double tapped a word on the page and her eyes met mine, trying to convey a message.
I reread the passage. “Selene? What about her?”
She placed her palm over her heart, and a wave of calm washed over her face. Her expression was no longer haunted, but peaceful.
“Is that… is that your name?” I was under the impression that she couldn’t remember her name—that it had been taken from her along with her memories.
She shrugged one shoulder.
“You’re not sure?”
A curt nod.
“But… it feels right?”
She nodded again.
“Hmm.” Maybe seeing the name had sparked something inside her, had called to her despite her forgetting. “Well, then, I think that’s what we should call you. Selene.”
Her eyes lit up at the sound, and I knew it was the right name for her. It was fitting that she be given the name of a goddess whose destiny was to protect and heal. Much of my survival in Murvort was owed to her.
Taking her hand in mine, I smiled. “Now, should we get back to our research?”
Selene looked embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes pointed toward the ground, like she was foolish to be distracted by something so insignificant.
But it was significant.
“Don’t be ashamed,” I said. “This matters. You matter, Selene.”
I’d say her name a thousand times until she understood that she wasn’t small. That she wasn’t someone’s puppet. She was a whole person, and she deserved to take up space. Reyna had kept her on a leash, but she was free now. And I hoped she felt that every day from here on out.
I stood first and pulled her up, briefly exchanging a smile before we returned to the desk. The stack of books somehow seemed even more daunting now. Had it grown while I was away?
Before I could think too much about the long day ahead, the door to the library creaked open.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary—nobles visited the library every so often during the daytime hours—but it still made me anxious to share a space with them.
They always stared and whispered whenever they spotted me.
They didn’t know everything that had happened in the confines of Murvort, but that didn’t stop them from gossiping. Their gaping made me ill.
Footsteps echoed, coming closer until Ladon appeared from behind a towering shelf. His eyes met mine for a moment, and I would’ve gotten lost in them if Selene’s wings hadn’t fluttered at that very moment.
I cleared my throat. “Ladon, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be doing… kingly things?”
Internally, I cringed at my lapse in intelligence. Between spending all my time in the library and Ladon’s handsome face, I was all out of brain power.
Ladon only raised a questioning brow. “My kingly duties are done for the morning. How is the research going?”
He trailed a finger along the spines of the books closest to him, studying them with feigned interest. I knew he didn’t think the answer would be found in his family’s library.
According to him, he’d already read every one of these books, but there was no way he could’ve retained all of that information.
What if he’d forgotten the smallest detail that could save Cyrus?
For some reason, I didn’t want him to know how unsuccessful we had been. Maybe I didn’t want him to lose hope. “It’s going well,” I said, forcing what I hoped came off as a look of encouragement.
He glanced up from the stack of books, and his bright eyes bore straight into my soul. Then he gave me a knowing smirk that made my stomach flip. “Right… Well, I actually came here to share some news.”
Wondering if this news was confidential, I turned my head to Selene. “Could you take this stack and put them back where they belong?”
Her mouth formed a close-lipped smile before she grabbed as many books as she could hold and set off to carry out her task.
“Thank you, Selene,” I said as she walked away.
“Selene?” Ladon asked, stepping closer. His forearm brushed my hip as he reached for another book, flipping through the pages, though his attention never left me.
“That’s her name.”
“Since when?” he asked with an annoyingly charming grin.
“Since now.”
“Hmm.” He inched closer, invading my space until his chest brushed against my shoulder. Suddenly, the book in his hand shut with a thump.
I jumped. Something about his closeness put me on edge, but I liked it. I liked the way his voice made my heart race and my thighs clench together. But now was not the time for that.
“You said you had something to share?”
Curse the gods, he stepped away like he suddenly remembered we were in public and anyone could see the electricity that flowed between us. He placed the book down, nudging it until it was perfectly straight and in line with the rest.
“I did.” He looked to his right and licked his perfect lips. “Actually, I think it’d be better if you just take a look.”
He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and I followed the gesture, walking around a shelf.
My small study area opened up into the library’s atrium, full of desks scattered about and mismatched mage lights floating above them.
Near the door, the librarian was busy chatting with a male patron who leaned across the counter.
She stared at him with wide eyes, appalled by the way he encroached on her space.
I knew the woman well. She liked her space to be neat and tidy, and this man was anything but.
His hair was unruly and his jacket was worn out with a hole near his right shoulder.
The boots he wore looked as though they’d taken him through a swamp or a pigpen.
From here, I couldn’t tell if he smelled like a pigsty too. He probably did.
But then he turned to the side, and I got a view of his profile—his defined jawline and the bump on the bridge of his nose, the crinkle near his eyes as he twisted my way.
“Adrien,” I shouted, running across the atrium.
“Don’t run,” the librarian scolded.
Meanwhile, Adrien held his arms open to catch me. The moment we collided, he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground. “It’s so good to see you. You had us worried for a moment there.”
“What are you doing here? What about Mom and Dad?” I asked, searching the room. He had said ‘us,’ but I didn’t see anyone else.
“What am I doing here?” he huffed. “I’m here for you, of course. You got kidnapped, and you thought I wouldn’t be here to welcome you home?”
“Technically, you weren’t,” I told him, though it didn’t bother me. Truthfully, I had needed a few days to myself before I was ready to see anyone. But he was here now. That was what mattered.
He waved me off. “Details. I would’ve been here sooner, but we came across a nasty storm. Waves twenty feet tall. I thought we were going to capsize.”
“That sounds awful.”
He rolled his eyes and let his head fall back, reminding me how much I’d missed his dramatics. “It was nothing. What’s life without a little danger here and there?”
“Well, I’m glad you made it out alive.”
“Likewise,” he said, his eyes returning to meet mine.
For a moment, we stood in silence. I knew he was assessing me, expecting to see bruises and marks—physical signs of trauma. But aside from the faint white vines wrapped around my wrists and ankles, all my scars were internal.
I shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t matter that he was my brother; I still disliked being observed. It brought me back to a dark, crowded room and a sea of eyes that swallowed me whole. The hair on my neck rose, and I had to look away.