Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Benedict strolled through the doors into the Great Library.
He had to do better today. He’d pushed Beatrice too hard the day before, questioning her about the Wild Fae Primrose.
She’d shut down after that, making both his goals of finding the Primrose and convincing her to keep the mate bond that much harder.
He stopped short just over the threshold.
The Library was packed with patrons. Long lines stretched from each of the master librarian tables while even more fae—from the tall, leafy dryads to imposing, broad-shouldered men and women who must be dragons in their fae form—meandered around the atrium, as if waiting for the lines to disperse somewhat before they committed to one.
Assistant and apprentice librarians raced from the tables and into the shelves and back, following the orders of the master librarians.
So much for his plan to spend more time with Beatrice. He’d be lucky if he even saw her today. Not to mention, the two of them would be run ragged by the time their shift ended, leaving them little energy for searching for a way to break the mate bond after hours.
Beneath the Tree, Tybalt, Borachio, and several of the other young librarians and nobles had gathered before Demetrius’s table.
Master Librarian Domitius had also joined them, not having returned to his position at the outpost library.
Despite the line waiting for Demetrius’s help, the nobles chatted as if they had all the time in the world.
Benedict resisted the urge to stare at either Demetrius or Domitius. Or, rather, the false Demetrius and Domitius.
“Benedict!” Tybalt clapped him on the shoulder as Benedict joined them.
“What’s going on? Why is the Library so busy this morning?” Benedict shot a glance toward the line of patrons, the first few in line starting to glare or shift restlessly. It wouldn’t do to keep putting them off.
“Word got around to the other courts that we’ve called a truce with the Court of Revels and that the Library has reopened.
” Tybalt gave a dismissive shrug, waving off the patrons as if they didn’t matter.
“We were just discussing the Faerie Market. Do you think the Wild Fae Primrose will strike at the Market?”
“The Wild Fae Primrose has been rather inactive lately.” Borachio tapped his chin. “Which is puzzling. It’s interesting that the Primrose didn’t rescue you and the others. He rescued some of those who were captured early in the war with the Court of Revels.”
“One of the many reasons I blame the Primrose for my long imprisonment.” Benedict crossed his arms and tried for a nonchalant stance, even as his feet itched to move so he could get to work.
The fake Domitius and Demetrius were openly staring at him now, as if daring him to mention that the real Domitius and Demetrius hadn’t been returned at all.
When Benedict spoke again, there was a real note of bitterness that he didn’t try to hide. “The Wild Fae Primrose turned his back on his own people and left us to rot. He loves humans more than he loves the fae. That’s why he’s to blame for my captivity.”
“I—” Tybalt swallowed back whatever he was going to say, his gaze going to something behind Benedict.
Benedict turned and found Master Librarian Basil, Beatrice’s brother-in-law, standing there. Basil’s dark brown eyes were flat, his mouth pressed into a tight line. While his disapproval was rather obvious, he still wasn’t the most intimidating figure, given his slight build.
Yet there was that tale from several years ago of how he’d faced down a basilisk in the Tanglewood on a particularly monster-filled Midsummer Night. One shouldn’t count him out when someone or something he loved was on the line.
Benedict’s stomach sank. Not only had Basil caught him loitering when he should have been working, he must have heard everything. While Benedict needed to make his blame for the Wild Fae Primrose rather apparent, having Basil overhear made his case with Beatrice more difficult.
Not to mention, Basil held quite a bit of sway with Head Librarian Marco. His disapproval of Benedict would make his pursuit of the assistant librarian opening more of a stretch as well.
The sinking feeling twisted in his chest. The Court and the Library had to come first. If he lost out on the assistant librarian job and on keeping the mate bond with Beatrice, then so be it. Stopping Claudius was more important.
“Apprentice Librarian Benedict, you have been assigned to me today.” Master Librarian Basil’s voice was more clipped and flat than it was usually, and he spun on his heel with a sharp movement.
Benedict followed, clamping his jaws shut to stop himself from explaining or apologizing or otherwise ruining everything.
Basil led the way around the base of the Great Tree, winding past roots and cutting through lines of those waiting to be helped by one of the librarians on duty.
Eventually, they circled the Tree to the nook between two large roots where Basil’s desk was set. Even here at the far side of the Tree, a long line of patrons stretched outward, waiting to be helped.
To one side of his desk, Beatrice stood, tapping her foot on a patch of moss. Her back was to them, her bright yellow skirt swishing as she swayed slightly with her tapping.
Benedict’s heart thrummed in his ears, and he had to resist tugging at his collar. Was it growing hotter in here? He swallowed and clasped his hands behind his back.
As they neared, Beatrice turned, revealing that she had a yellow bookwyrm in her arms. The sight sent his pulse pounding harder.
There was just something irresistible about Beatrice with one of the bookwyrms. She loved the Library and its bookwyrms with a wholeheartedness rarely seen, even among the fae that were supposed to love them.
Yet as soon as her gaze rested on Benedict, her soft smile dropped into a scowl, her blue eyes sparking as if actual flames danced in those clear cerulean depths.
Why did that draw him in just as much as the smile had?
Master Librarian Basil halted before reaching his desk, turning so that he was facing both Benedict and Beatrice. “The two of you have been assigned to me today. I was hoping we’d have a chance to continue our research, but we will need to take care of the patrons first.”
Benedict nodded. The Library came first, of course, as did their duty as librarians.
One of the green-coated assistant librarians ran up, huffing and puffing. She skidded to a halt beside the table. “Reporting for duty, Master Librarian.”
Benedict wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile or shake his head. The coming promotions had everyone competing, from the lowliest apprentice librarian to the best of the master librarians.
Beatrice set down the bookwyrm before she turned to Benedict, a hand planted on her hip as her chin jutted in that angry, determined way of hers. “Want to make it a competition? Whoever helps the most patrons is declared the better apprentice librarian.”
“You’re on.” Benedict smirked at her before he leaned closer. “You know I’m going to win.”
“Not a chance.” Beatrice whirled away from him, her skirt swishing around her.
For a moment, he could only stand there, his breath catching, his palms a little sweaty.
Then he hurried after her, his look softening. No matter what, today would be fun.
Beatrice huffed and puffed as she raced through the shelves, dodging patrons and other librarians. Reaching the atrium, she skidded to a halt before Basil’s desk. The line before the desk was shorter, thankfully, but plenty of patrons still waited.
At the front, a donkey-headed goblin man waved a small book in emphatic, angry movements. “This is unacceptable! I’m not performing this tripe!”
The fox-headed goblin man next to him winced and cowered. “But…but…Nick! That’s the one you picked out before you were captured! We’ve been practicing it for a month!”
Beatrice stared between Nick Bottom, the donkey-headed man who led the goblin acting troupe, and his right-hand actor. She’d never seen Nick angry before. He was always so cheerfully empty-headed. And he certainly had never realized before that the plays he chose to perform were rubbish.
Then again, his troupe’s acting skills were terrible, so it didn’t matter what play he picked. It would be horrible.
“I understand, Nick. We’ll see about getting you a new play.” Basil gestured as the green-coated assistant librarian raced up and halted next to Beatrice, also panting. “Poppy will help you find a play more suitable for your tastes.”
“Come right this way.” Poppy managed to get her panting under control enough to sound somewhat normal and smile.
As she led the goblin men deeper into the Library, Basil stared after them, a furrow across his brows.
Beatrice edged a little closer, lowering her voice. “That was weird, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Basil blinked, shaking his head as Nick and the others disappeared between the shelves. “I’ve never seen Nick Bottom act quite like that before.”
Benedict’s voice rang from behind her. “Perhaps time in King Oberon’s dungeon changed him.”
Beatrice bit down on her yelp, but she couldn’t stop her jump. She whirled to face Benedict.
He had his arms crossed over his gray librarian coat and blue shirt. Today, he had pulled his blond hair into a queue at the nape of his neck, though strands of his hair still fell across his forehead.
Her heart hammered harder in her chest. Anger, most likely. Or she was still recovering from her run. Certainly nothing else.
“The time in those dungeons changed us all.” Benedict’s jaw worked, something flinty in his blue eyes.
Beatrice swallowed, looking away. She didn’t want to think about Benedict locked in a dungeon. Not when he had that hard and deep look to his eyes. Far easier to think of him as the smirking, annoying Benedict who totally deserved to sit in a dungeon for a while.
The next patron in line cleared his throat as he stepped up to the table. “Excuse me. I’m looking for a book on the birds native to the Harvest Court.”