Chapter 59
Fifty-Nine
Pierce
The Solarium is a lot more romantic when we aren’t using it as a magical duelling pitch.
Mathias didn’t bother meddling with the tiny greenhouse in the courtyard, so it’s exactly as we left it, albeit with a few more decorations.
The floor is hidden beneath piles of cushions and blankets. I know Kyrith won’t be able to feel them or enjoy them as she would with a body, but hopefully the gesture comes off as thoughtful rather than insensitive.
I’d ask the Arcanaeum for its input, but in the day since its return, it’s been mostly silent. Kyrith says the Library is resting, which is good, but it still leaves me with only these two idiots to help get things ready before our Librarian figures out we’re up to something.
“You stole my idea,” Jasper complains.
I frown, because it wasn’t like there was a whole lot else I could do, given the limitations. “Are you honestly upset?”
He hands North the cushion he conjured with a frown. “Naw, but I wouldnae expect you to do something this rustic. Figured you’d go for a Michelin restaurant and a five-star hotel or something.”
“If you haven’t noticed.” I grunt as North flings a pillow at my face.
“There’s a lack of those in the Arcanaeum.
” I add it to the pile with a huff and return to work on the wisplights I’ve been casting around the edge of the room.
“I had much grander plans that involved a sleigh ride and a glass igloo, but our current circumstances are less than ideal.”
If Kyrith ever decides to try leaving the Arcanaeum, I’ll take her on that trip. For now, this is the closest I can manage. Right now, she’s understandably hesitant to do anything that might jeopardise the Library’s recovery.
“While we’re here,” I add after a few minutes of silence. “I’d like to apologise.”
North straightens. “I knew it was you. Lambert said it was that dodgy kebab, but you poisoned my—”
“For the last time, I didn’t poison you.” I grind my teeth together. “I’m talking about when I wiped your memory months ago. It was necessary at the time. And Jasper…I should’ve tried to get you out sooner.”
“Wasnae your choice,” he grunts. “I could see that, even then. Apology not necessary.”
My lips twist, and I finish up with the lights.
“Hey, wait…what meeting?” North frowns. “And why are you bringing this up now?”
“It wasn’t a long conversation.” I shrug his death-glare off. “Eventually, the spell will unravel anyway. I’d rather you weren’t pissed at me when that happened.”
It’s a lame reason, but the truth is harder to put into words. Mathias is dead. So is my grandfather. My future is with Kyrith and the rest of these men. I want to start it on a clean slate.
“I kidnapped you from the magiball game. Ensorcelled you. My grandfather and Josef interrogated you about Kyrith’s cracking.”
It’s been long enough that my words must shatter whatever remains of the spell, because North pinches his temples. He grunts, bending double under the pressure, but it passes quickly. Unsurprising. It was a relatively small mind-wipe. Under an hour’s worth of memories.
“You remember?”
“You were an utter prick,” North says, chucking a round pink cushion at my face with more force than necessary.
“I did what I had to.”
He gives me a frustrated scowl, straightening. “Great fucking apology. Very convincing.”
I shrug. “I am sorry that I kept the truth from you. My grandfather asked me to. He was trying to build an alliance with Josef, which would’ve served to keep Mathias away from the position of vicegerent.
Then the Ackland parriarch got himself killed.
” I shrug again. “With everything that happened, I put the matter aside. Now that things are settling—Will you stop that?” I catch the next cushion with a glower.
“If I do, do you promise to shut up?”
I open my mouth, but Kyrith pops into being directly behind him, and I snap it closed. My eyes must widen because North and Jasper turn, then grin.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Jasper says, heading straight for the door, blowing a kiss at the Librarian. “Enjoy your evening, lass.”
“But not too much,” North adds, following.
The door shuts behind them, leaving the two of us alone in a stained-glass room, an ocean of blankets and cushions between us.
“What is this?” she asks carefully, eyes lingering on the wisplights, then on the small pile of books resting on the blanket nearest the door.
“A surprise.” I wave her towards them. “What do you think?”
The words are confident, but there’s a strange fluttering in my gut as I take my own seat facing the door and wait for her to join me.
She might say no. After all, I am stealing Jasper’s idea.
When she doesn’t laugh in my face, my shoulders inch lower.
“I’m…not exactly dressed.” She looks down at her scorched skirt and blood-stained shirt with dismay.
“Fortunately, the reindeer don’t care.”
“Reindeer?” She peers at me like she’s wondering if she misheard me, then lowers herself to float just above the cushions with her knees out to one side just the same. “What did you have planned?”
“I thought you might like to read beneath the northern lights.”
At the reminder, I knock on the door, murmuring the name of the cabin I rented for the night.
It swings open, and snow immediately gusts through.
Oops.
I grab for my grimoire before it can spread any further. “Culdua tuthiri.”
An invisible barrier covers the door, shutting away the blast of freezing air. I fumble for a heat scrap, and once cast, the snow that did manage to cross is evaporated and the sheets are toasty once more.
Kyrith might not be able to feel the cold, but I can. She’s already staring through at the dark sky. There’s nothing there yet. Damn. I had this all planned out, but I can’t control solar winds.
Narrowing my eyes at the uncooperative sky, I silently urge it to get on with it.
The stupid lights remain absent, mocking me. Ugh. Typical.
I should’ve checked they were there before I started messing with cushions.
At least the view over the fjord is pretty enough. The cabin I picked out is high up, with a good line of sight over the dark water and the shimmering stars above.
I dim the wisplights around the edge of the room, leaving the one by the door bright enough to read by, but hopefully not so bright as to ruin the view if the aurora does show up.
“I have a couple of options,” I explain, grabbing the pile of romance books from behind a cushion. “My preference is the Norse mythology one with the—”
“Your preference?”
I stop. “I thought we would read them together. I’ll turn the pages, though you’ll have to wait for me to catch up.”
She reads at a speed that intimidates me, but I’m not surprised. She’s had hundreds of years to master the skill.
Kyrith’s brows are still raised, and I shrug. “If you don’t want to read the Norse one, Dakari says he brought you a couple of others…”
She shakes her head. “No, that sounds good. I just…I didn’t think you’d want to read romance books.”
I shake my head. “Why would I not want to? The worst that can happen is that I get to see you enjoying yourself. If I’m lucky, I might even pick up a few ideas.”
The wink I shoot her has her cheeks creasing in a barely suppressed smile, and I hold up the book. “This one, then?”
She responds by lowering herself so she’s lying on her front, her body bisecting the piled-up bedding as she rests her chin on the backs of her interlinked hands. “Yes, please.”
I copy her, only to freeze when an unmistakable blue-green glow bathes the books in front of us.
Ah. The sky doesn’t hate me, after all.
She doesn’t notice at first, which gives me time to glance at the ribbons of light just starting to dance in the sky, then look back to catch her expression.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathes.
It’s disgustingly cliché, but all I can think is, ‘yes, you are.’
“I’m surprised you didn’t ever just leave the door open somewhere like this before we came along,” I tell her, getting comfortable.
She doesn’t even glance at the book, just drifts so she’s hovering on her back, staring up at the sky through the doorway.
“I want to read with you, but I don’t want to stop watching,” she confesses quietly.
My lips quirk, and I guide the wisplight closer to the book so that it won’t interfere with her view.
Flipping open the cover, I turn to the first page and clear my throat. “Chapter one…”
Her eyes flick to me, but I keep reading. Eventually, her focus shifts back to the sky, and she sighs happily.
The book isn’t bad. I’m glad she picked this and not the one with triplet billionaires falling for a barista. Somehow love blossoming in the Norse underworld seemed less fanciful than three Fortune 500 CEOs deigning to notice someone on minimum wage.
I make it through three chapters before she rolls onto her side and looks at me. Her mouth opens, then closes, brows furrowing like she wants to say something but can’t decide how to say it.
“What?”
“You’re pampering me.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “Yes?”
“I thought dates were about getting to know each other.”
My head is shaking before she finishes speaking. “This isn’t a date.” Her face starts to fall, and I hurriedly add, “Darling, we walked through hell together. I’m not doing something as trivial as ‘dating’ the woman who sat with me through the worst loss of my life. I’m marrying her.”
Her jaw drops, the northern lights forgotten as she blinks at me like I’ve started speaking a foreign language.
Eventually, she stammers, “That’s not a proposal.”
“No. It isn’t. I have something more spectacular planned for that.”
Her eye roll is exasperated. “Lambert already proposed.” Her fingers stroke over the large oval stone on her other hand, as if checking it’s still there.
I sigh. “Yes, I’m still shocked that he managed to find something more sophisticated than a Haribo ring.”
Her uncomprehending look reassures me she doesn’t understand the reference, and I snort.
“He made it clear to all of us that your marrying him wasn’t an exclusive arrangement. Any other excuses?”
She shifts back, the motion so slight I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t so attuned to her. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
I chuckle under my breath. “Well, you have time. Like I said, this isn’t a proposal.
This is me fixing something.” My throat thickens, and I have to pause to clear it.
“You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back.
It wasn’t because I don’t feel the same, but I wanted the moment to be special.
I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since. ”
I thought I’d lost my chance when we searched the Arcanaeum and she was nowhere to be found. I thought I’d lost her.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to. I want to.” My heart skips anxiously in my chest. “I love you, Kyrith. I have for some time. I should’ve told you back in Scotland, when I first figured it out.”
“No, this is perfect.” She leans forward, as if intending to kiss me, only to pause ruefully at the last second. “Almost…perfect.”
I close the gap, her cold lips tingling against mine. If she wants me to kiss her, I’m not going to let something as superficial as incorporeality get in the way.
Still, her shoulders slump a little as she draws back.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
It’s not nothing. I have an older sister. I’m well aware that ‘nothing’ is a trap. So I hold her gaze with mine, waiting.
It doesn’t take too long for her to fold.
“I can’t feel it. I keep hoping and hoping, but that doesn’t change. When it’s one of you brushing against me, I can shrug it off. Hugs are harder, but bearable. But when we try to kiss…” The wistfulness in her tone grows barbs, drawing blood. “I miss it too much.”
“You’re not going to be stuck like this forever,” I promise. “But while you are, I won’t initiate any kind of touch unless you ask me to, deal?”
The fathomless depths of her eyes swim with something nameless. I’m not sure if it’s sorrow, disappointment, or grief. Whatever it is, it makes me want to wrap her in a blanket and shield her from it.
But I can’t.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I love you,” I repeat. “And I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes, but I refuse to keep doing something that hurts you.”
She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, mouth twitching. “I love you too.”
“Good. That was the only acceptable response.” I gesture with my chin. “Now, shall I continue where I left off, or would you rather just watch the sky together?”
She hums under her breath. “Just one more chapter? I don’t want to take advantage, but…”
I smile, already knowing it’s not going to be ‘just one.’ “Chapter four…”