Page 99 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“Slow down, boy!” Minerva said, clapping his back. “That’s too many questions.”
“You’re right,” he said, “and you must be tired. Just tell me about Prince Caerwyn.”
Minerva flinched. Why would Tiberius want to know about him? “What would you like to know?”
“Whether or not I’ve been replaced.”
Minerva laughed, the fear dissipating. “I can have two nephews, Tibe.”
“Is he your nephew, though? AmI?”
“Your mother will have your treacherous tongue.”
Tiberius paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “You know once, when I was a child, I was asked to draw a picture of my parents. I drew all four of you. I didn’t really understand what an aunt was, back then. Still don’t. At least not what other people think of as aunts.”
Minerva’s chest heated, and she fought the urge to pull him once more into her arms. She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to let him go again. It had been far, far too long. She felt the same, of course. He’d always been more than her sister’s child. But there was such fear to loving a person so much.
She wondered if he wasn’t wrong about Caer. Perhaps she had been seeking to plug up a wound when he came to her. Perhaps.
She didn’t think anyone could replace Tiberius. She also didn’t like the idea that Caer could be a replacement.
Bell squeezed Tibe’s shoulder when she couldn’t. “We’ve missed you.”
Tiberius beamed. “I’ve missed you, too. Tremendously.” He squeezed her around the waist, a difficult task given his height, but it made him look like a boy again—young and carefree. When he finally pulled back, he seemed to have lost years. “Tomorrow, then,” he said, scooting towards the door.
Minerva smiled, Bell’s hand sliding around her back. “Tomorrow.”
Aislinnlayonthecomfiest bed in all of existence, exhausted out of her mind, and found she couldn’t sleep. She’d spent an hour soaking in the tub, scrubbing every trace of their journey from her skin. She’d basked in front of the fire, drinking ale and devouring every morsel that had been left out for her. She’d even—almost reluctantly—thumbed through a few of the books on the bookcase in the corner.
The tawdry romances had been a bad idea.
Now, she lay in her bed, tossing between layers of soft linen, dreaming of hands that weren’t there and soft sullen lips and eyes the colour of forest lakes.
She sighed. It would do no good.
She rolled out of the bed, wrapped herself in a robe, and headed out into the corridor. The castle was quiet. Evidently, the dwarves did not believe them worthy of guarding—or perhaps it was a sign of the trust they placed in one another. Everyone did seem rather relaxed here, like the guards were mostly for decoration. She’d almost been surprised when their weapons were seized.
Not that the lack of a weapon would stop her if she’d chosen violence, but she supposed it did make it harder.
Placing all thoughts of fighting aside—at least for the time being—Aislinn hopped along to the end of the corridor, and stopped.
Which one was Caer’s door again? He was one of the first to be placed, but there had been so many others milling around… was it the first, or the second door?
She hovered by the second, waiting, wondering what she would say if she was wrong. Perhaps she could pretend she was looking for Beau. Never mind that she knew full well he was right next to her. How could she phrase that? ‘Oh, you’re not Beau! Do you know where he is?’ Yes. That would work, that would work just—
But what if Caerdidanswer? What was she going to say to him?
This was ridiculous. She should just turn back now before—
The door clicked open. Aislinn’s heart flared, half panic, half relief—until Prince Tiberius walked out, closing the door behind him.
He walked straight into her.
“Ah, hello,” said Tiberius, smiling broadly. “Didn’t mean to bump into you there. Just dropping off Minnie’s new arm. Bit silly, really, since she’s hardly going to sleep with it on, but still… Did you need them for anything?”
“I—no.”
“Right.”
