Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Beatrice shut the book, managing to keep herself from slamming it closed by sheer force of will.
This was hopeless. For the past week, she and Benedict had perused the various books on the Laws of Bindings. Maybe they’d missed something within all the dry, convoluted language. Maybe there was nothing to find. How were they to know?
Not that they’d had loads of time to search the books. The Library had remained just as busy for the whole week. All of them had been kept so occupied helping patrons that there had been very little time for in-depth book-searching of their own.
She slumped against the bookshelf behind her before she slid to the floor, her legs out in front of her. Two bookwyrms promptly slithered out of the nearby shelves and onto her lap, their scaly bodies a gentle weight. “This is hopeless.”
Benedict scrubbed a hand over his face before he shelved the book he’d been reading. He, too, had lost his arrogant edge over the past week, looking just as tired and worn as she felt. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break from law books and focus on the romance books instead.”
“Is that an I told you so?” Beatrice was too tired and defeated to even feel that much animosity.
“No, not yet.” Benedict’s smile flickered with a hint of his normal cockiness. “I’m saving that for when we find something.”
“If we find something. The romance books might be just as much of a bust as the law books.” Beatrice flapped a hand in that general direction before she went back to running her hand down the back of one of the bookwyrms.
“At least they will be more pleasant to peruse.” Benedict shrugged, a hint of his grin curving his mouth and giving him the hint of dimples. “Perhaps we can find the piece for our reading while we’re at it.”
“I told you. Not a chance.” The protest gave her enough anger to rouse her somewhat from her exhaustion.
Still smirking, he waved in the direction of the romances. “Shall we head in that direction?”
Beatrice sighed and nudged the bookwyrms off her lap. After clambering to her feet, she picked up one of the bookwyrms. “Fine.”
Strangely, Benedict picked up the other bookwyrm.
Together, the four of them, including the bookwyrms, headed for the vast section of the Library designated for romances.
Here, the shelves were arranged in meandering circles with each circle holding a specific type of romance.
One held the folk tale romances of the Fae Realm.
Another the fictional romances set in the Fae Realm.
Yet another fictional romances set in the Human Realm.
Flowers draped in profusion over the shelves, nearly choking the air with the intensity of their fragrance.
Without even consulting about it, Benedict and Beatrice headed for the section of Fae Realm folk tales. If any of the romances had something about fated mate bonds, it would be these.
Beatrice stepped inside one of the cozy circles of shelves. When the bookwyrm wiggled, she held it near the shelf and let it wriggle its way into the shadows. She glanced over her shoulder at Benedict. “I guess I’ll start here.”
His bookwyrm had slithered onto his shoulders, draping itself around his neck. He paused at the other side of the door into the circle. “And I’ll start here.”
Beatrice plucked a book off the shelf at random. In the small, cozy space, she was far more aware of Benedict’s presence than she had been when they’d been working in the neat rows of law books.
Not to mention, there was just something about seeing his broad shoulders with a bookwyrm draped over them.
Why did the bookwyrms like him so much? He was searching for the Primrose. He hated humans. He was actively working against everything the Court of Knowledge stood for. Usually the Library showed its dislike for those who showed such traits.
Was the difference because Benedict was a fae noble? Did that automatically make the Library pander to him, as the rest of the court bowed and scraped to the higher ranked nobles?
She shook herself and opened the book. No matter how good he looked with a bookwyrm on his shoulders and his blond hair tied back in a queue, she couldn’t let herself become attracted to him.
Even if he’d grown into an attractive man, he’d been a horrible boy.
He’d tormented her as a child, and while he’d grown up physically, his pursuit of the Wild Fae Primrose just showed that he hadn’t changed all that much at heart.
Benedict struggled to concentrate on the book in his hands before he gave up and shoved it back on the shelf.
Across the small space formed by the circular bookshelf, Beatrice hummed to herself, swaying slightly, as she plucked a book from the shelf.
Her glossy golden curls tumbled down her back as she moved, her peach skirts swishing in time with her movements.
His breath caught, lodged by that aching something in his chest that filled him every time he looked at her. Was that the mate bond drawing him to her?
No, it couldn’t be that. He’d felt that ache when he looked at Beatrice long before the mate bond.
He grabbed a book from the shelf, forcing himself to focus long enough to actually register which book it was. “Pyramus and Thisby. The play version of this is so bad it’s almost funny.”
Beatrice turned, a spark in her eyes. She marched across the circle and snatched the book from him. “I actually like that one.”
Oops. For once, he hadn’t meant to insult her. “I’m sorry. I saw Nick Bottom and his players perform the play a number of years ago. Well, perform is a generous word for what they did. They didn’t do the play justice.”
“I was there.” Beatrice’s gaze dropped to the book.
She ran her fingers over the spine, something about the movement and her posture both pensive and fond.
“It was my first night in the Fae Realm. I’d just lost the only home I’d ever known.
Sure, our home was a hovel, our farm had withered to dust in the drought, and we were in danger of being taken away as indentured servants.
But it was all I’d had. Then Basil brought us to the Fae Realm, and suddenly we were walking through this gorgeous palace and sitting in a theater with a real fae king and queen.
It was the first play I’d ever seen performed.
I had no idea it was bad. In that moment, it was wondrous.
I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for the play because of that. ”
Benedict opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words. If he said the wrong thing now, she might hate him forever.
As if his pause had gone on too long, her head snapped up, her vulnerable reverie gone in a blink. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. You’ll use it against me somehow.”
“I won’t. Not this.” Benedict swallowed and held her gaze, hoping she could read the sincerity in his eyes. This was the moment he should share something equally vulnerable about himself. “Beatrice, I…”
What could he say? His most vulnerable moments were those in the dungeon and the realization of how awful a boy he’d been.
Yet he couldn’t tell her any of that. Both because of his geas and because he couldn’t break his persona. Not even for her. Everyone, including her, had to believe he hated the Wild Fae Primrose. It was the only way to save the Great Library and the Court of Knowledge.
He forced his mouth to curve, his stance to harden, even if he couldn’t quite find the will to pretend his normal insufferable nonchalance. “Perhaps we should perform a section of the play for our reading. Since you love it so much.”
She huffed and shoved the book into his chest hard enough to hurt. “No way. I’m not ruining my good memories with bad ones.”
He forced a chuckle as he turned and placed the book back on the shelf. “In that case, I’ll find another option.”
“Not a romance,” Beatrice shot back over her shoulder. “And the rules say it can’t be anything risqué.”
“What kind of fae do you take me for?” Benedict shook his head, a real smile returning.
“Do you really need to ask?” Beatrice yanked another book off the shelf, not looking at him.
Benedict sighed and fully turned back to the shelves. So much for the moment he’d shared with Beatrice.
Beatrice carried a stack of the law tomes she’d paged through earlier. These were some of the ones that had looked the most promising, but she hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of them. Basil had wanted to look through them to see if he could find something she’d missed.
As she neared Basil’s desk, she slowed her pace since both her sister Meg and their friend Helena were standing before the desk.
Helena’s face was tear-streaked, and she gestured in her normal, dramatic fashion. “I’m worried! Demetrius hasn’t been himself since he returned from the war. He’s so cold to me and the children.”
Meg pulled Helena into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“He has seemed different to me as well.” Basil drummed his fingers on the desk. “Concerningly different. He didn’t recognize me at first.”
“Exactly.” Helena wailed the word. “I expected some difficulties because of his imprisonment, but not this. It’s like he’s a different person.”
“I’m sorry.” Meg hugged Helena again. “You and the children will have a place with us if you need it, all right?”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Helena brushed at the tears streaming down her face. “I might stay with my parents for a few days. I don’t know what else to do. It seems drastic, but…”
“If you don’t feel safe, you need to protect yourself and the children.” Meg held Helena’s gaze firmly. “If Demetrius were in his right mind, then he would agree.”
Beatrice remained rooted to the spot, her mind churning.
This was the second time she’d heard that those who had returned in the most recent prisoner exchange were acting strangely.
Both Nick Bottom and Demetrius had returned colder, distant, and even downright mean.
Demetrius’s own wife didn’t know him anymore.
Yet Benedict had come back strangely nicer than he’d been before.
Just what had happened in the Court of Revels? Why had those who had returned undergone such changes to their personalities? The only one who seemed the same was Master Librarian Domitius, but he’d always been cold, mean, and arrogant.
Once Helena left, still sniffing, Beatrice strode the rest of the way to the desk, setting the books down on the corner.
Standing behind his desk, Basil’s gaze swung from Helena’s retreat to Meg. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Helena, but I’ve noticed Nick Bottom acting oddly as well. Beatrice, have you noticed anything off with Benedict?”
“Besides the fact that he’s acting nicer than he used to? No.” She shook her head, grimacing. She probably shouldn’t complain about Benedict getting a personality change, considering it had been a positive one. But that change did things to her heart when she was with him, and she didn’t like it.
It must be the mate bond messing with her mind.
“I’m going to report this to Head Librarian Marco and King Theseus.” Basil strode around his desk and gave Meg a quick kiss. “I should be back before bedtime.”
Meg returned the kiss, but her eyes still held that worry that Beatrice had seen all too often in her younger years. “If not, Buddy, Beatrice, and I can handle things. Whatever is going on, Head Librarian Marco and King Theseus need to know about it.”
Basil nodded before he turned and rested a hand on the stack of books. “Beatrice, could you take these home for me?”
She nodded and resisted the urge to groan as she picked up the books once again. Whatever was going on was more important than her mate bond problem.