Chapter 8 #4
“It’s not a hard language to master, and if it does wear off, I’m sure that Sylvan will renew it for you.
” She shuffled on her seat, moving to sit straighter before she reached over and plucked one of the books off my pile.
She pursed her lip at it and then waggled it at me.
“Do you really want to be filling your days reading about the history of this court?”
“I thought it might be the right thing to do as heir.” I leaned over and snatched the book from her, setting it back on my pile.
She took the one I had been reading and leafed through it. “I always liked this edition. The pictures add a lot to it.”
“The unseelie part is rather short.”
Her right eyebrow rose as she slowly lifted her gaze to me.
“I’m just saying.” I smoothed my dress, fidgeting with it. “The seelie birth story was beautiful and poetic—”
“And the unseelie side was reduced to a few lines.” She closed the book, not seeming to care that she had just interrupted me—the heir presumptive of this court.
She set the book down on top of my pile with another smile that reeked of mischief, and lowered her voice to a whisper.
“I shall let you in on a secret. The unseelie story is different, and as poetic as the one you read in this book.”
She tapped it with a solitary finger.
I couldn’t stop the frown that knitted my eyebrows. “You’ve read another account of the birth of the seelie and unseelie?”
She glanced at the door, and then the rest of the library, and then whispered, “Yes, and if anyone knew about it, the court would be calling for my head. Such literature is banned.”
“You have an unseelie book.” It was the only reason it would be banned. Somehow, Meiryn had access to a book written for the unseelie by the unseelie, and being in possession of it was dangerous.
“I have more than one.” She grinned and then sighed. “Alas, I do not have them here. They are back at my family’s home, hidden there. If anyone knew about them, my whole family would be killed… so if you tell anyone…”
I made a motion with my fingers, zipping my mouth closed, locking it at the corner of my lips, and throwing the key over my shoulder.
A confused crinkle marred her brow.
“It means I won’t tell anyone,” I said and looked at the books I had placed back on the shelves. “Meiryn?”
“Yes?” Her head jerked up, eyes darting away from my dagger.
“This is going to sound… what year is it?” I grimaced as I asked that, hating that I would now look about as uneducated about this land as everyone expected me to be. “Judging by these books, the fae measure years differently to the mortals, and I’m used to the mortal calendar.”
“Six thousand three hundred and eighty-seven.”
My eyebrows rose. “Now the dates in the books make sense.”
They marked the year with solstices, keeping time with the mortal realm, so a year back home had to be a year here.
Kaeleron was five hundred and sixty, and had been close to sixty when his parents had died, which meant I needed to find books dated around the year five thousand eight hundred and eighty-seven. I could do that.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Meiryn said, following my gaze to the bookcases.
“Just any information dated around the year I was born. I want to know if I’m really the daughter of the Summer King.” The truth. I did want to know if I was his daughter and how my mother had come to bear his child.
I scanned the bookshelves again, and then looked at Meiryn, studying her as I pieced together what I wanted to say, picking my words carefully as a plan formed. A way of getting the information I needed.
“So many of them seem to be written in another language. Like the one on here.” I tapped my dagger. “I don’t suppose you can understand it? I can’t help but worry that the information I want is hidden in those books I can’t read.”
I kept my expression curious, with a touch of concerned. I still didn’t trust her, but I could learn to trust her a little if she could teach me how to read the language that felt like a barrier between me and the truth.
She nodded. “I’ve been learning it in the last eight years that I’ve lived here.”
“Eight years?” I gaped at her.
So much for maintaining my mask. Kaeleron should have given me lessons in that particular skill he wielded so well.
Another nod.
She brightly said, “Eight years, and in that time, I have seen eleven other heirs found and nine arrive.”
Something cold sank into my stomach, pulling it down towards my boots as I did the mental math and replayed last night. Only three of us had been present.
“Are the others away?” I said brightly right back at her, plastering on a cheery smile that did nothing to ease the cold seeping through me. “It might be nice to meet them.”
This time, she shook her head.
My smile faded as that feeling in my gut worsened and my wolf side grew restless, and something oily and dark stirred in my veins, whispering to me.
Warning me.
“What happened to the others?” Those words sounded so loud in the silent library, filled with weight and dark promise that made me want to take them back and tell her I didn’t want to know, that I could fill in the blanks for myself.
I could read between the cracks.
Eleven heirs had been found. Nine had made it to the castle. Seven had—
Meiryn looked me straight in the eye.
“Lorien killed them.”