Chapter 32 The Spark
The Spark
The Serpent King said to meet him in the library in thirty minutes. So, naturally, I met him there in forty.
As I strutted through the emerald stained-glass double doors, the king was leaning against a stack of books, his arms crossed across his chest.
“You are late.”
“A queen is never late. You are simply early.” I tossed him a dazzling smile before strolling past him and down the first row of literature.
The stacks of leather-bound books soared high above me, making them at least twenty feet tall.
I breathed in the fresh smell of old books, relishing a scent that once was the only thing that comforted me late at night.
My fingers trailed over the spines as I drifted through the row, books bound in various colors surrounding me.
I was grateful for once in my life to see more shades of color. Anything was better than the perpetual green and gold hues that stained the Emerald Palace.
“Where is your plaything?” The king walked beside me, making his shoulder lightly brush against mine.
Although the aisles might be big enough for one person to stroll through comfortably, they were hardly large enough to fit me and the behemoth insisting on walking by my side.
Browsing the shelves, I decided to ignore the king’s not-so-subtle jab at my bodyguard.
He would not get the sick satisfaction of riling me up.
“I sent word I'd be preoccupied for a while, so I advised Landon to spend his free time training. We all need to be prepared to defeat this god.”
He grunted his agreement, his eyes glancing over the various titles that we passed.
“It seems your mother has taken a liking to Reena . . . and Landon.” I muttered the last bit under my breath, but the king’s dark chuckle suggested he heard me.
“Sounds like someone is jealous,” he crooned.
I scoffed, the sound jarring in the otherwise quiet library.
“Why would I be jealous? Landon is solely my bodyguard.”
“Sure he is.” He whistled casually as we neared the end of one of the stacks.
I stopped walking, instead rotating to face the man who loved to somehow always work his way under my skin. The king followed my lead, slowly turning toward me with a wicked smile already plastered upon his face.
“Maybe your mother should stop feasting her eyes on my bodyguard and spare some of her lust for her husband.”
The king’s smile dropped, his eyes frosting over with a layer of impenetrable ice. “That would be hard to do, considering dear old father is six feet under the ground.” He tried to sound casual, but the anger simmering in his eyes suggested otherwise.
Without another word, he sharply spun on his heel, fleeing down the stacks to leave me behind.
Fuck, how was I supposed to know his father was dead?
I watched the king storm off, allowing him a moment to gather himself. I was never good at comforting others, and, quite frankly, I had work to do. So, I forced myself to forget about my insensitive remark and that I was the reason the king’s dazzling smile faded.
Horror sliced through me, making my fingers still on a spine as I realized how troubling it was that I was suddenly worried about how I affected another person. After all, this was the man who broke my heart and rudely shoved me out of his lands.
So why should I care about the Serpent King’s misery?
Shaking my head in hopes to clear the empathy infecting my brain, I focused on the books staring me down. Since I couldn’t control the venom constantly coating the tip of my tongue, I figured I’d control the one thing I came to the Emerald Glades for in the first place: knowledge of the gods.
I itched to touch every single tome in this library, my old passion for the written word swiftly drifting back to me. My fingers grazed the books while I moved deeper into the stacks, but I stilled on a gold leather-bound book titled The Magic of the Gods.
Snatching it from the shelf, I traveled further into the stacks while acquiring a few other titles that drew my interest. I was overcome with the overwhelming feeling to grab each and every book I passed.
A small smile slipped onto my lips as I felt my insatiable desire to learn coming back to me with every tome I acquired.
Glancing down at my growing pile, I knew I had more than enough material to dive into. I began searching for a spot to devour all my newfound books, but the moment I rounded the corner I came to a crashing halt.
Stewing in a dark alcove in the corner of the library, the Serpent King sat slouched in a deep forest green wingback chair.
I gnawed on my bottom lip, trying to decide if I should turn around to find a different spot to study my tomes.
Yet, I couldn’t stop my feet from inching closer to him—maybe it was the darkness that drew me closer to the king, or the smell of fresh rain emanating off him that piqued my curiosity.
I was never drawn to the smell of one’s sorrow, but there was something about the king’s sadness that intrigued me.
There was a hint of burnt leather hidden within the depths of his sadness, and the familiar scent soothed me.
After all, the emotion associated with charred leather was one I was very familiar with every time I gazed into a mirror.
Pure hatred.
As I entered the dim alcove with stacks of books jutting up on all three sides surrounding us, I brushed my knee against the king’s legs to alert him to my presence. He looked so lost in his thoughts, in his despair, that he startled at my contact.
He looked up at me, sadness burning bright in his eyes.
Gods, I truly was a monster.
“I’m sorry about your father. I was out of line with my comment back there.”
He continued to stare at me, allowing me to see every ounce of his emotions.
Why did he not shove them down? It would be easier if we continued to hide our feelings from one another.
Seeing him like this, so raw and vulnerable, made me feel things I typically ran from.
Usually, I didn’t care when I hurt other people, because their pain fueled me, it gave me substance—something to numb the emptiness gnawing within me.
Perhaps, it was because we had history together or because my soul was slowly coming back to me, but I wanted to try to ease the agony I caused him. So, I shared something I’ve never shared with another soul.
“I never knew my father. My mother didn’t deign to tell me one single thing about him.” I wished I sounded unbothered by this fact, but my soft voice held a twinge of its own melancholy.
I always wondered what my father was like, if my life would have turned out differently with him in it. Was he a kind man? Was he a father that would’ve showered me with love instead of leaving me in complete isolation?
“Seems like we have more in common than we realized.” The king’s voice beckoned me back to the shadowy alcove, where I still towered over him.
I must have subconsciously taken another step toward him, because I was now practically between his legs. His hand flexed atop his thigh, almost as if he wanted to reach for me, to close any remaining space lingering between us.
A pang of disappointment shot through me when he opted to squeeze his hand into a tight fist instead, prompting me to quickly step back.
“May I?” I eyed the open chair across from him, still not sure if he wanted to be around me after my heartless comment.
However, he surprised me when he gestured to the other chair in a silent offer to join him.
I crossed the short distance to the seat and plopped down, dropping the books onto a golden circular table.
“Find anything good?” He perked up as he scooted his chair closer to the table. His pale hand reached for the book at the top of my stack, the one titled How to Fully Tap into Your Magic.
“I sure hope so. I grabbed what I thought would be useful for our mission. I’d like to learn every weakness I can about the gods—I mean, the Ice Goddess.”
I inwardly cursed myself for my small slip-up and prayed the Serpent King didn’t catch it.
I glanced at him through lowered lashes, only to find him staring at me with narrowed eyes.
Fuck, he definitely heard me.
Time to swiftly change the subject.
“What did you say her name was again?”
After studying me for another moment, his lips turned down, almost like he didn’t want to speak the Ice Goddess’ true name. “Isolde.”
A soft hum vibrated through my chest while I flipped through the pages of the book titled The Origins of the Gods, searching for any mentions of the mysterious goddess.
After browsing nearly the entirety of the tome, I was about to give up until I turned to one of the last pages and saw a female I’ve never seen before.
“Is this her?” I turned the book so the king could see more clearly, causing a deeper scowl to adorn his face at the sight of the photo.
“Yes, that is Isolde.” A shiver coursed through him, making his shoulders quake.
Curiosity stirred in me, and I discreetly sniffed the air to detect the emotion coursing through the king. I was greeted with that bitter taste I’d grown to crave.
The Serpent King feared the Ice Goddess.
Glancing at her picture again, I noticed how pale the goddess’s skin was. It was nearly translucent, her icy blue veins practically glowing beneath her skin. Then, there were her frosty eyes, which were so pale blue they appeared more white than anything.
“Why do you fear her?” I tore my eyes from Isolde’s picture to glance back at the king.
He remained silent as he stared at the image, at her frost-covered lips tipping up into a chilling smile. I was about to resume my reading when he didn’t reply, but the softness in his next words had me perking up with curiosity.
“I stole something from her long ago.”
“What did you steal?”
A somberness fell over the Serpent King’s face. “Someone she loved.”
I did not expect him to say that, so all I could force out after hearing this intimate piece of information was a breathy “Oh.”
He shook his head, clearing whatever tender memories flashed behind that pretty face of his.