Page 39 of Must Love Libraries and Libations
“Isn’t it?” He drained his cup, and I refilled it without being asked. “Do you know what the village was like when I first arrived? Five buildings. No real roads. The library was a cart with three spell books and a handful of scrolls recounting folk tales. I watched Moonshine Hollow grow, watched generations of families live and die. I’ve been here more than five hundred years. I’ve outlasted everything.”
“Not everything,” I said softly. “The town is still here, as is the library, although in a different form.”
“Important things.”
I leaned forward, wine making me bold. “You act like being old makes you irrelevant, but that’s not true. You’re the keeper of all that history, all those stories. You’re the bridge between then and now.”
He looked at me with something that might have been surprise. “You don’t understand. You’re so…bright. So much a part of this world, this time. You make people smile and create magic that brings joy. I neutralize dangerous spells.”
“You protect people,” I said firmly. “You care for creatures who can’t care for themselves. You maintain knowledge that would otherwise be lost. How is that not important?”
“It’s not alive. Not like what you do.”
I leaned toward him, close enough to see the flecks of amber in his golden eyes, and set my hand on his knee. “Erasmus, you are the guardian and caretaker of the bookwyrms. You have a nest full of eggs that you are protecting. That is life. And,” I said with a smirk, “you let me talk you into throwing a party even though it unnerved you. That is being part of something.”
Something shifted in his expression, a crack in that stony facade. “Do you always see the goodness in everyone?”
“Everyone but my mother,” I joked with a laugh that Erasmus joined.
We stared at each other, the air thick with an unspoken tension. I was very aware of how close we were sitting, how his scent, parchment and sage and something uniquely him, made my head spin more than the wine.
“Try another spell,” I suggested, hoping to break the moment before I did something foolish.
He nodded then rose.
I joined him.
This time, when he spoke his incantation, I joined in with a harmony spell, magic meant to enhance the magic of others. The result was spectacular, a dizzying array of color…and completely useless. Light danced around the door before fizzling out with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.
“She’s laughing at us,” I said.
“Definitely laughing at us.”
“What if…” I bit my lip, then decided wine had made me brave enough to voice the thought. “What if she wants honesty? Real honesty. And not just about wanting to escape.”
“What do you mean?”
I took a deep breath. “I mean, what if we have to be honest about…about what’s really happening here. Between us.”
He went perfectly still. “Miss Windsong…”
“Because something is happening, isn’t it? That kiss yesterday wasn’t nothing.”
“I shouldn’t have?—”
“But you did. And I kissed you back. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since.” My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “Have you?”
For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then, quietly, he said, “No. I haven’t.”
The admission hung between us like a spark waiting to catch fire.
“So, what do we do about it?” I whispered.
Instead of answering, he reached out and touched my cheek, his fingers rough but gentle. “You make everything complicated, Miss Windsong.”
“Primrose,” I corrected breathlessly. “Just Primrose.”
“Primrose,” he repeated, and something in the way he said my name made my stomach flutter. He stepped closer to me, leaning in, his lips close to mine but not touching. “Even your name is full of life and light. Too cheerful to be attached to someone like me.”
