No More Waiting #3
I liked the thought of that, so I nodded, and we headed into the depths of the most extensive library I’d ever seen.
“This statue is Euclydys, the first librarian and scholar of Ashthorn. He commissioned at least half the books on the shelves here today to be translated from various languages. He studied everything from the planets and stars to Caelian history and the wars of the continents and was also my great-great-great-great-grandfather. Or maybe I missed a great in there,” he said with a tilt of his head, a lock of brown hair drifting over his forehead.
So he was descended from scholars and monarchs. No wonder he was so arrogant.
As we kept walking past the bookshelves on the ground floor, he would point out a long-dead person in a painting or a bust, sharing stories of rare magic or gruesome deaths.
We approached a portrait of a particularly beautiful woman with long brown hair. Atop her head sat the queen’s crown of gold and emeralds. Her warm brown eyes were nearly hypnotizing, and I realized there was something familiar in her features.
“This is the late Queen Seralyth Myrvalenne. She was one of the strongest wolf Veythryn this continent has ever seen. And she was my mother.”
Wait. What?
“Your…Queen Malvina isn’t your mother?”
His face hardened, mouth drawn tight. “No. She’s…” The prince was rarely at a loss for words.
“She’s what?” I asked in a hushed, delicate voice. For such a quiet and unimposing queen, the prince seemed to have a strong dislike etched into his features at the suggestion that she was his mother.
“She’s nothing like my mother was. My mother was kind. She balanced my father. But Malvina came here amid his mourning after my mother passed and tried to replace her. But no one can ever replace your mate.”
My heart stuttered. The king and the late queen had been mates? I couldn’t imagine the anguish. It was said that, if your mate died, the pain was so horrible to bear that many didn’t survive it. Was the king the way he was now because of this loss?
“No matter what anyone says, does, or believes, no one can ever replace your mother, Varyn. She will always be your mother, no matter who sits next to your father now.” I understood his feelings. I may not really remember her, but Nella and Aemilia’s mom had come in and tried to replace mine too.
He smiled sadly. “It seems we have something in common after all.”
And that we did.
I reached for his hand and squeezed it. When I did, he looked down at where our hands met, and I wasn’t sure what I saw in his face. He had been so vulnerable with me about his mother, and now it seemed the mask was slipping right back on.
“Come, I’ll show you upstairs. There are books up there forbidden to anyone but the royals and their council. Outlawed and dangerous magic. Something I think is right up your alley.” He smiled, every bit the relaxed prince once more.
I nodded and went along with the change in subject.
We went up a steep spiral staircase and landed on the second floor just as grand and packed with books, artifacts, statues, and paintings as the floor below.
In the dead center of the floor was a large, polished wooden table surrounded by chairs.
It was much darker up here, with less light coming through the windows, so Varyn lit a lamp beside the table, casting the area in a faint orange glow.
It was peaceful.
He walked me to the table and pulled out a chair, motioning for me to sit. “There’s a book I want to show you. I’ll be right back with it. Sit here.”
He had only been gone a minute or two before he came back with a large book that he set on the table in front of me. Standing behind me, he opened it and flipped a few pages until he found what he was looking for.
The chapter was titled “Celebrated Mortals of Ashenholt.” I stared at those words, transfixed.
“You see, when my mother ruled beside my father, she was fair and kind. She treated mortals and fae equally and ensured they had a place in this kingdom. Books celebrating mortals have been burned or moved to the restricted area of this floor since her death. But I thought you might like to read it.”
I was speechless. It was such a kind gesture, and it made me think that maybe the prince really didn’t care that I was a mortal. That there was a chance, maybe, he really could like me.
Looking into his eyes in that moment softened something inside my heart. I saw hunger lingering in his gaze and remembered the slip he’d asked me to wear.
And I didn’t need wine to give me the courage this time to do something bold.
I turned in my chair and, looking up at him, reached out and lightly touched his cheek with my fingertips. His face was warm and smooth, and it made me wish desperately that it were my lips in place of my fingertips.
I could see his momentary surprise, but it didn’t stop me. “I wore the slip for you.”
His gaze darkened. “I was looking forward to seeing you in it again, but I’m very much looking forward to taking it off you tonight.”
And right then, I knew tonight I would burn in his ice, no matter the cost.