Page 71 of The Shadow of Breninsol
She just wanted to remain for a little longer.
But the sky would not let her be in the dark for long. The clouds parted, allowing cool white rays to shine through the high windows, revealing enough of the room for her to know that she’d ended up in a study or library. Bountiful shelves stretched above her, and books burdened all the surfaces. With the crescent moon and stars shining as bright as they were tonight, Eleanor left the wall sconces unlit. It would reveal her presence in the room, and it’d be a shame to spoil the night. No-one needed to know she was here.
She used the moonlight to guide her as she moved further into the library, taking care not to bump into any of the small tables being used to keep stacks of books on, left by their voracious reader.
Eleanor kept her sore hand enclosed, but trailed a lazy finger over some of the book covers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stood in a room with so many books in one place.
The room had the enticing smell that only books could achieve. A musty timber smell with fresh hints of vanilla told her that there were a few ancient tomes resting on the shelves. Tomes, which she very dearly wanted to scout out and scour through. That pang of longing halted her finger’s progress along an embellished book cover, taking her by surprise that she still had those kinds of thoughts or wants.
Eleanor closed her eyes, threw her head back, and she breathed.
Don’t do this, not now.
It’s not worth it.
It’s pointless.
You’ve done that before and look where it’s got you. Nowhere.
Shaking off those thoughts, Eleanor stepped further into the moonlight that was casting its light through the large windows over the library floor, showing her a beautifully thick patterned rug. The thick pile tempted her to kick off her shoes and sink her toes in. But it would be an unnecessary risk.
Instead, as Eleanor stood alone in the middle of the library, she hugged her arms around herself. She thought of other nights like this one, where she’d have been camping with a basket of fireside treats, freshly baked. Under the clear night sky, she would have slept in her bedroll, accompanied by the moon and the stars lulling her to sleep. There had also been the nights when the moon had been the only soul for her, shining its comforting glow upon her, much as it did now.
This was why Eleanor didn’t want to acknowledge the night sky anymore. She had stopped admiring the ancestral stars, stopped searching for the constellations with their stories attached to them and wondered about those which were yet untold. It always gave her a lingering hunger that she could never sate. Instead, she only allowed herself to assess the night’s potential assistance or hindrance in the back streets.
It was…too much to have those memories accompanied by the ones that already plagued her.
Eleanor shook her head to tear herself physically and mentally from those old memories. Moonlight glinted off an object on the table. The droplet-shaped necklace drew her in.
It was the same one that Wilfred had from his lover—Linnet—she was sure of it. It had the same silver-weaved design holding the clear blue stone in place.
The part of her she kept down, deep, deep inside her, the part she only allowed out of the smallest crack to whisper oversections of her body, wanted to reach out. She wanted to recoil while simultaneously caress the pendant.
This should not be here.
Icy dread washed over her. She found what she had been searching for in the Marquis of Laerus’s house. She realised how foolish she had been to think it could be replicated. This close, she could almost see the Air movement in the pendant.
A low cough jerked her back to the present. She whirled around and knocked into one of the small tables. Eleanor grabbed the ledge of the table but missed the books, which slipped onto the thick rug with a dull thud.
The voice chuckled at her expense. Despite the darkness, Eleanor could feel her cheeks heat at her shortcoming.
“I’m sorry,” she did a quick bob, hoping that movement would suffice for whoever was in the room with her. “I thought I was alone.”
“Evidently,” replied the deep voice that was coming from the dark corner.
“I’ll leave,” she said as she bent to pick up the fallen books, taking care to avoid her raw palm.
“Not at all,” the man replied. His voice was crisp and elegant, which meant he was a noble or someone who was in constant contact with one. It was not an accent she’d find in the Barrow. “We both clearly desire a quiet place, and this library is big enough for the two of us.”
The voice seemed familiar to her.No.It was her mind playing tricks on her. She was grasping at something that wasn’t there.
She considered pocketing the pendant, but suspected this person likely sought this same item. They would know who she was, and it’d expose her.
“Thank you…I just wanted somewhere quiet and…I like books,” she trailed off, wincing as she realised what she’d said.
What a stupid thing to say.Idiot.
“It does get a bit tedious out there, doesn’t it?” There was something in man’s voice that wanted to pull at memories she couldn’t grasp, but like trying to grab onto running water, naturally the memory slipped through her fingers.
