Chapter 27
Hakeem is led deeper into the castle by Jean-Pierre towards the library, where apparently Lady Eloise Nocturne is patiently awaiting his arrival.
He is unable to form a plausible theory as to why she would want to meet with him, hoping it isn’t to demand he distance himself from her grandson.
It doesn’t seem unlikely, compared to her family he’s no more than a clever peasant.
Eddie would be a much more suitable suitor for Jackson than he could ever hope to be.
As his steps echo behind Jean-Pierre, Hakeem tries to banish the negativity swirling through his mind.
They arrive at the grand double doors of the library, meticulously carved white wood adorned with vines of gold.
The doors creak open unprovoked, they’ve been expecting him.
Jean-Pierre bows his head and gestures with one gloved hand for Hakeem to enter.
He does so with trepidation, the doors closing slowly behind him.
The grand library easily is five stories tall, seemingly endless shelves lined with books.
Some bound by worn leather, some seem new and untouched, others locked away behind enchanted glass.
The air is thick with the scent a thousand stories, some lost to time forgotten.
It’s filled with magic laying dormant in the grimoires lining the walls, waiting to be unleashed, longing to play.
All of Hakeem’s nerves are quickly replaced with unparalleled wonder.
A royal library like no other stands before him, the stuff of myths, legends and his wildest dreams.
His attention is soon drawn to a figure seated on a plush armchair beside a roaring hearth, the seat opposite her vacant.
Two cups of what smells like tea, a blend of something black and spiced from the scent that tickles Hakeem’s nose, are poured by a gentleman standing by the side of an elderly woman seated in the armchair.
His eyes flicker to the handkerchief, a shade of blue.
That is Jean-Paul if Hakeem’s memory is correct, and logic dictates the woman must be none other than-
“Lady Eloise Nocturne, of the Winter Realm.” Hakeem bows at the waist, removing his mask as a sign of respect as he regards her.
“It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” He pulls out every bit of etiquette he can think of that applies to this moment, keeping his head bowed for a moment longer hoping she won’t immediately send him away.
Her voice rings through the air, laced with power yet sweet and gravely. “My oh my, what a polite young man. Where did my Jackson find you? Raise your head, child, and come sit with an old woman.”
Hakeem tucks his mask into a side pocket of his jacket as he raises his head, “It would be my pleasure.”
Hakeem takes his place across from Lady Eloise, removing his jacket to drape it across the chair.
The hearth’s warmth breaks through the chill creeping into the air, the tea’s mild bitterness and fragrant spice rouse Hakeem’s senses.
He relaxes his shoulders for the first time since leaving Jackson and Eddie’s side, the visible relief earning a chuckle from Lady Eloise.
“I do hope you don’t mind being pulled away from the festivities.
Personally, I only attend out of a sense of responsibility.
Though I may have relinquished my title of matriarch of House Nocturne, I still hold a seat on the bureau’s high council.
I like to make sure these young fools don’t lose all our traditions in their attempt to modernize,” she addresses Hakeem whilst sipping from her own cup.
“Not at all my lady. Though I am curious as to why you wanted to meet with me privately. I haven’t done anything to offend you, have I?” Hakeem cringes at the idea of somehow insulting one of the most powerful people in the realms, who also happens to be the grandmother of one of the boys he likes.
Lady Eloise grants him an amused smile, brushing a strand of gray hair from her cheek behind her ear.
She wears an elegant ensemble that Hakeem would say makes her resemble an Edwardian dowager duchess from books and shows he’s seen, exuding a classic elegance.
“Nothing of the sort, my dear. I simply wanted to meet the child born to change fate.”
“Oh, I see.” Hakeem blinks once, then twice, before realization slowly creeps up his face.
Wide eyes, heat filling his cheeks (not from the tea or fire), the cup of tea trembles as Hakeem attempts to place it aside.
“I’m sorry,” his voice cracks on the last syllable.
He clears his throat and tries again, “My lady, I’m not sure I heard you right.
By the child born to change fate, you can’t possibly mean me. ”
“I can and do.” She responds matter of factly, drinking her tea with Jean-Paul standing patiently behind her, awaiting a command with his eyes closed and hands drawn behind his back.
Hakeem’s fingers clench on his thighs, knuckles turning white as his fingers dig into the fabric of his dress pants.
“There must be some mistake, I’m no one special like that.
” Lady Eloise raises a gray eyebrow, yet doesn’t interject at this moment.
“I’m just a studious kid from La Fay, from a small and loving family.
Sure, somehow I ended up being the mana match of a wonderful man.
And somehow another asked me to be his date for this ball, but I cannot change fate. ”
“Ah, but you already have, my dear.”
Hakeem’s head snaps up to face Lady Eloise, who is giving him a contemplative look, a thin finger tapping at her chin, lips pursed. “Most notably, you seem to be three months ahead of schedule.”
Hakeem’s confusion grows as he furrows his brows, forehead creasing as a thousand questions swim through his mind. “I don’t understand. Three months ahead of what, my lady?”
Her eyes snap wide, as though realizing Hakeem had truly no idea what was going on. “Oh, silly old me. I mustn’t speak as though everyone is as knowing as I. Jean-Paul,” she addresses the man behind her, whose ruby eyes snap to attention, “my book, if you please.”
“Of course, my lady.” Jean-Paul bows and snaps a gloved hand, a large book appearing before him that gently floats down to Lady Eloise’s lap.
Hakeem’s eyes focus on the title engraved on the leather spine: ‘A Fateful Encounter’.
His gaze trails down to the author’s name, ‘L.E.N. Winters’.
That was the author of the last book he read before meeting Jackson and Eddie, was it an unreleased story?
No, why would Lady Eloise request a romance novel now?
Especially from an author known for their…
..explicit writing style. It must be a coincidence, an older author by a similar name.
Lady Eloise notices him staring, “Are you familiar with this author?”
“I am familiar with one of a similar moniker, though they tend to lean towards the romance genre. I’m certain that this ‘L.E.N Winters’ is a different one from the author I know.”
Lady Eloise skims through the pages of the book before her. “Unless someone else besides me has used that moniker in the last thousand years, I can assure you they are one in the same, dear boy.”
Hakeem is stunned, his speech failing him.
Did she just? Does that mean she is? His mind races whilst trying to piece together all the information present.
He leaps to his feet when the final clue rings through his head loud and true.
“LADY ELOISE NOCTURNE OF THE WINTER REALM!” He instantly claps his hands over his mouth, embarrassment staining his neck and cheeks in a deep blush as he falls back into his seat.
Lady Eloise doesn’t look up from her spot in the book as she regards him, “The one and only, dear. I take it you’re a fan?”
Hakeem’s mind filters through all the books in his personal collection, L.E.N Winters is one of his favorite authors.
He has all books released to date. So many romance novels.
So many scandalous encounters and swoon-worthy declarations of love.
And by the gods, so many descriptive moments of… illicit activities.
His voice trembles as he speaks, “I, um, may have a book or two….dozen, of yours. I must say you have-um, quite a way with words, my lady.” He wants to run and hide, bury himself deep into the ground, when a burning question trembles on his tongue.
“If I may be so bold, my lady, what does one of your books have to do with why I am here?”
She looks up from her scanning of the pages, eyes narrowing as her lips purse whilst contemplating how to answer Hakeem’s query. “Well, this particular story was created with the help of a dear friend before her passing. Are you familiar with a one Mrs. Brenda Lee?”
He is.
She was the friend who willed Jackson the apartment, along with her wand and grimoire. Furthermore, she was an oracle, a category of astromancy that favored predicting the future versus how his mother used the stars to map out the past.
“During her final years, Brenda came to me with a request. Fate had changed, drastically, just over two decades ago. She wanted to tell Jackson how this change of fate would affect him ever so greatly. However, there are rules to these sorts of things. So, we created a road map, a way to keep track of how things progressed when she could no longer look out for him. This book is the original, unedited, unreleased and, I can assure you, unembellished manuscript of how this tale was meant to go. It contained warnings of when darkness would seep in and claim my grandson’s heart.
When a beast of unparalleled power would break free and wreak havoc across the land.
And,” She points a thin finger towards Hakeem, who silently watches her explanation, “when a star, plucked from the heavens, would lose its shine in the name of love and freedom.” Hakeem notices the book in her lap was easily four times the size and length of any other of her books in his possession.