Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Beatrice dragged herself into the Library the next morning. When she’d finally gone to bed, she’d tossed and turned the rest of the night, unable to sleep as her mind churned through everything that had happened.
Benedict hadn’t set that trap for her sister. No, he’d done it to save the four people still locked in Claudius’s dungeon and the whole of the Great Library.
And she had yelled at him, hadn’t trusted him, and could have ruined everything.
What was she supposed to do and feel about him now? He wasn’t at all like what she’d thought for those brief moments the night before.
Worse, he was now an official part of her sister’s Primrose League. She couldn’t hate someone who was a part of the League. And that brought a whole new problem.
Barely paying attention to the peaceful bustle of the Library, Beatrice trudged around the Tree to Basil’s desk.
He glanced up from the book he had open before him. “If you need more sleep, you can go home.”
“I must look terrible if that’s how you greet me.” Beatrice braced herself against the front of the desk. “Besides, I’ll just go back to tossing and turning instead of sleeping. We’re already down a librarian so I might as well push through.”
Basil nodded, but his gaze remained searching as if he didn’t fully believe her.
Before Beatrice could protest further, Rosaline hurried up to them. “Did you hear? Benedict was arrested last night for treason.” Glancing around, Rosaline lowered her voice. “He was trying to set a trap for the Wild Fae Primrose.”
Beatrice clamped her mouth shut before she blurted out the truth. Rosaline was a part of the Primrose League, but Brigid must not have gotten the word out yet.
Or perhaps Brigid had decided to be cautious and wouldn’t even tell the rest of the League. Not that any of them were untrustworthy. But the more people who knew, the more chance that someone would slip up and tip off the imposters or Benedict’s family.
“Did you know? You’ve been spending nearly every day with him.” Rosaline stepped closer to Beatrice, her gaze compassionate. She gestured toward Beatrice’s hand. “You must really want to break that.”
Beatrice rested her left hand over the gold, floral swirl on the back of her right hand. “Yes.”
For some reason, she couldn’t dredge up any true emotion as she spoke the word.
Beatrice crept along the hall in King Theseus’s white marble palace, the green runner on the floor muffling her footsteps.
After turning a corner, a shorter hall ended in a doorway that must lead to one of the many towers and turrets that formed the palace. Partway down the corridor, two swordmaidens gripping spears stood before one of the doors on the inside wall.
Drawing in a deep breath, Beatrice straightened her shoulders and strode toward them as if she was perfectly confident in her right to be there. Halting before the swordmaidens, she lifted her chin. “I’d like to see Benedict, please.”
Would they let her in? Benedict was ostensibly a prisoner, and she wasn’t sure what kind of orders these swordmaidens had. Neither of them was the imposter, but that didn’t mean Queen Hippolyta had told them what was really going on.
The swordmaiden on the right swept a glance down Beatrice before she gave a sharp nod and stepped aside, giving access to the door. “You may enter.”
Beatrice’s breath whooshed out of her. She hurried forward and opened the door before the swordmaiden had the chance to change her mind.
After she closed the door behind her, she turned to fully take in the room. She stood in a small sitting room with a single couch and two chairs clustered around a small table. A door on the other side must lead to the bedchamber.
That door opened, and Benedict peeked out, his eyes bleary, his hair tousled around his face and shoulders. “What is it?”
He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Giving her an eyeful of his muscled chest and slim waist. An eyeful that was now seared into her mind.
She made a gargled squeak, and Benedict blinked at her for a long moment before his eyes widened. “Beatrice! I…uh…” He drew back and all but slammed the door closed.
She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on drawing a few deep breaths to cool her heated face. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a shirtless man before. This was the Fae Realm, and she lived in a Summer Court. Some of the male fae simply walked around shirtless all the time.
But she’d never felt such a jolt inside her at the sight. Then again, she’d never been in a fated mate bond with any of those fae.
It was just the magic messing with her head. Everything would go back to normal once they broke this bond.
Which would only happen by pledging their undying hatred for each other. Something she found increasingly difficult to contemplate.
After only a few seconds, the door opened again, and Benedict stumbled out, now wearing a rumpled shirt, his blond hair still far too handsomely tousled in a way that sent her pulse thrumming faster and her fingers itching to straighten the strands.
“Beatrice.” Benedict halted behind the couch, facing her.
“Benedict.” She met his gaze, but after coming all this way, she couldn’t dredge up anything to say.
“What are you doing here? It’s late.” Benedict braced his hands on the back of the couch. “You should go home. It isn’t safe to be wandering alone at this time of night.”
She waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. Basil is working late.”
Not to mention, Munch was currently in Brigid’s tower handling Primrose business for her, but Beatrice wasn’t going to tell Benedict that, even if he was now a part of the League.
Just because someone was a part of the League didn’t mean that the person learned all of the Primrose’s secrets.
Even Beatrice didn’t know all of them or even most of them.
Such as exactly what Munch was handling or who most of the people in the League even were.
“Oh, all right. That’s good.” Benedict raked a hand through his hair, tousling it further.
For a long moment, the two of them simply stood there, looking at each other, both seemingly at a loss for words.
What was there to say after what had gone down the previous night?
Benedict clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back on his heels. “I understand why you were so furious when you thought I was going to trap the Primrose. The Primrose is your sister.”
“Yes, she is.” Beatrice tangled her fingers in the swishy fabric of her skirts. “Sorry for the things I said.”
“You were under the impression I was threatening your sister.” Benedict shifted, as if prepared to step around the couch between them. “I find that level of loyalty admirable.”
Of course he would. His family turned on him the moment they realized their own actions had put them at jeopardy.
“Your family’s disloyalty isn’t your fault.” Beatrice walked closer.
Benedict took a step back, keeping the space between them. “No, but it will have consequences for me as well. You’ll likely get the assistant librarian position.”
“Or Rosaline might get it. She’s been far more dutiful than either of us.” Beatrice took another step, but Benedict stepped backward yet again. So strange since he’d been the one to flirt the past weeks.
“You’ll get it. I know you will.” Benedict’s blue eyes were sad, his mouth in a flat line.
“Benedict…”
“We’re going to end the mate bond in less than a week.” Benedict held his hands out between them, the gold of the mark on his hand flashing in the low light.
“What if we didn’t—”
“We have to.” Benedict’s tone rang firmly, no room for argument.
“Even once this is all over, I’m still going to be disowned and disgraced by my family’s actions.
I don’t even know if I’ll be allowed to keep my apprentice librarian position, and even if I do, I’ll likely be sent to a far-flung, out-of-the-way outpost library to serve there rather than here at the Great Library. ”
“You don’t—” Beatrice tried again.
Yet again, Benedict cut her off. “You should go. Please.”
She gritted her teeth at the repeated interruptions. He was too stuck in his own head to listen to a word she had to say. She refused to be a yapping dog that he dismissed as an annoyance.
“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t try.” She spun on her heel and marched from the room before Benedict had a chance to get in another word.
Beatrice slouched against the table in the House, blinking blearily at her toast. She’d slept terribly and had finally given in to the inevitable, getting up so early that even the children weren’t awake yet.
Today was Midsummer. The day Munch and Benedict planned to rescue the prisoners, King Theseus and Queen Hippolyta planned to arrest the imposters and Benedict’s family, and the Library would choose the next head librarian.
Oh, and Beatrice and Benedict would swear their undying hatred and break the fated mate bond forever.
No wonder she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before with all that swirling through her head. Too bad she’d desperately needed sleep to face today, given everything.
A loud pounding rattled the door of the House. The whole House gave an annoyed shake, and a shower of dirt and moss fell from the ceiling.
“I’m getting the door. Don’t get in a huff, House.” Beatrice shoved to her feet and lunged for the outer door. If the House woke the children, that would really start the day off on the wrong note.
Flinging the door open, Beatrice found herself face-to-face with Munch. His hair was a tangle, his eyes wide, wild, and almost frightened, something she’d never seen in him before. He gasped out something so garbled that she couldn’t make out a word of what he said.
“Slow down. What was that?” Beatrice braced herself against the doorframe. Had something gone wrong with the rescue?
But no, Benedict and Munch shouldn’t have even left yet.
“Brigid said the baby is coming.” Munch gasped out the words more clearly this time, but his words were still hoarse with sheer panic.
“I’ll grab some things and head over.” Meg’s voice came from behind Beatrice.
When Beatrice glanced over her shoulder, she found Meg and Basil standing in the doorway of the Anywhere Door, Meg already turning back to their room.
“I’ll fetch a healer.” Basil hurried forward, and Beatrice stepped aside to give him room to pass through the doorway.
Thankfully, there likely was a healer nearby. The Order of Healers had members all over the Fae Realm, but many of them lived in the Court of Knowledge since knowledge and healing went hand-in-hand.
Buddy stuck his head over the lower door to his stable, blinking into the light. “And I’ll stay with the children.”
Beatrice opened her mouth, closed it, and shifted where she stood near the door. Should she help Meg and Brigid? Not that Beatrice would be much help. Nor did she have a whole lot of desire to be there for that just yet. Should she just go into work at the Library like normal?
“Beatrice.” Munch shoved a wad of small red flowers at her.
When she glanced up, he held her gaze with serious brown eyes.
“Look, I hate to ask this, but there is no one else. You’re going to have to go in my place on the rescue.
There needs to be a human along to handle iron and close the rift. Here, take these primroses.”
Numbly, Beatrice took the bunch of wild fae primrose flowers, stuffing them into her magical pocket.
Digging into his pocket, Munch pulled out a wad of necklaces with amber pendants. “These are the glamour necklaces. You remember how these work, right?”
“Yes.” Beatrice took those as well, her heart pounding harder. This was real. She was having to take the role of the Primrose, something she’d never aspired to.
“And take this.” Munch drew a solid cast iron rod from the quiver at his side. “Don’t put this in your magical pocket. It will destroy the pocket.”
Beatrice took the iron rod, then patted her pockets with her free hand.
Where was she going to stash a heavy iron rod?
The weight of it already ached against her wrist. There was no way she could just carry this the whole time.
Heavy as it was, she probably wouldn’t be able to wield it as an effective weapon.
After a moment, she dug into a pocket, pulled out a sash, and wrapped the sash around the rod several times before tying the ends of the sash around her waist. The iron rod hung at her side, bumping against her leg.
“You can still go through Anywhere Doors with iron but it will feel stickier, if that makes sense. I’d avoid it if you can.” Munch rested a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for doing this. Stick with Benedict and be careful. It shouldn’t be that dangerous, but anything can go wrong.”
“I will.” Beatrice drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Surely she could handle this.
“Ready to go?” Meg hurried across the room and brushed past Beatrice to join Munch outside.
“Yes.” Munch breathed out the word in a frantic relief. He spun on his heel and all but dashed for the House next door.
“Take care of Brigid!” Beatrice called after Meg, not sure what else one was supposed to say.
Then she stood alone in the doorway, an iron rod at her side, a handful of primroses and necklaces in her pocket.
Today, she would have to be the Wild Fae Primrose.