Page 64 of The Witch Queen

“Why are you here in the archives instead of celebrating the holiday?” I ask, and her cheeks flush slightly.

“I don’t have family to celebrate with, and I love the archives on holidays when it’s completely empty. There’s nothing to do but read at my own leisure.” I hide my surprise that she has no family and change the subject, not wanting to pry.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m in here. I was also hoping to find it deserted.” I give her a mischievous look that brings another radiant smile to her face.

“Well, Dern wouldn’t like it, but he isn’t here!” she exclaims brightly, and I laugh.

“I don’t want to get you into any trouble—”

“You won’t. It’s not really a rule, just the result of his stubbornness and prejudice. Can I help you find anything?”

“Actually, yes. I’m looking for an Old Fae dictionary so I can refresh my vocabulary of the language. It’s been a while since I read anything in it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “You can read Old Fae?”

“Not well,” I admit. “But enough to translate with the right lexicon nearby.”

“This way,” she says with a quick pivot on her heel. I trail behind her through several corridors and rows of books before she stops in what looks like the oldest and dustiest corner of the entire place. Her brows furrow in concentration as she scans the book titles, and she bites her bottom lip in a tantalizing movement.

“Here it is!” she exclaims in triumph, eyes shining brightly as she hands me a massive and crumbling tome.

“Thank you,” I say, and we stand awkwardly for a few beats. “Would you like to read together?” I ask to break the silence.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to disturb you,” she says, though without much resolve.

“Nonsense. It’s a holiday, and I would love the company. It’s a bit lonely here on days like today.”

Her expression softens. “I can imagine how hard it must be to be in another kingdom, away from your family and friends, on days like today.” The compassion and understanding in her voice makes my throat tighten uncomfortably, so I turn away before she can notice.

“Do you have a favorite reading nook?” She gives me the most ornery grin I’ve ever seen.

“Follow me, Ambassador.”

She leads me to an area of the Archives I’ve never been, even during her tour, then up a winding spiral staircase. When we reach the top, my jaw drops. There’s a small platform tucked right where the stained-glass dome meets the walls, somehow invisible from the entryway. It’s only about twelve feet in either direction, but a worktable with chairs along with several hanging hammocks create the coziest looking alcove I’ve ever seen.

“This is amazing,” I mutter. Genevieve beams at me, her expression so unguarded and open it takes me aback.

“Not many know about it, and the rest of the librarians wouldneverbe caught using such a small space as their office. They all prefer the larger, ground-level offices, but as soon as I discovered this space, I knew I had to claim it.”

Light dances across the alcove in more intense colors this close to the stained-glass dome, and the heat from the windows warms the room to a perfect temperature. When I’m done gaping at her office, we both set up—me at the table so I can spread out my books and Genevieve in one of the swinging hammocks. I get to work translating, and she loses herself equally in whatever it is she’s reading.

After an hour or so, she stands, stretching her arms above her head in a way that I try not to notice shows off her figure. Padding over to sit across from me, she places her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, looking at me with an innocent curiosity.

“Can I ask what you’re translating? There aren’t any Old Fae books in the archives.”

“His Majesty provided me with several books from his personal collection. As far as I can tell, this book is a collection of stories about the fae.”

She claps her hands in delight. “That is a most high honor from His Majesty!” Her entire body quivers, clearly excited to simply know someone who’s been granted access to Mazus’s personal collection. “Would you permit me to examine the books? Only when you are done with them, of course.”

I smile at her enthusiasm, noticing the way it makes her features even more radiant. Internally chastising myself for getting distracted by a pretty face, I respond, “Of course, I’d be happy to share them with you when I’m done. In fact, you can look at the others while I’m busy translating this one.” I nudge the three books toward her.

Genuine thrill crosses her expression. “Thank you.” She picks up the book titledThe Secrets and Stories of Velmaraand immediately dives into reading. Studying her, I wonder whether I can trust her with my concerns about Mazus providing me the books. It would be helpful to have another person reviewing the contents of them with skepticism.

“What do you think of King Mazus?” I ask, hoping to ease into the conversation carefully.

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know him very well,” I say slowly. “I was…surprisedto receive these books from him. I’m just curious about him, I guess.” Hopefully that is open ended enough.

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