Wonderland: Origins of the Oraculum

Chapter Three

I found myself wandering to the library instead of my room. A mild change of scenery should be good for me. And it's that time where no one is in the library. The Majesties have been served their meals and therefore the library staff were at dinner too. They were the only other people that inhabited this place.

The great hall was as cold as the blue moon, the only warmth coming from the earthy scent of worn pages and the scattered red glow of oil lamps.

I breathed deep, the sweet solitude more mouthwatering than any food I could be offered.

I trailed my finger along the spines before flicking the crimson, leather-bound favorite off the shelf. I found my usual place, a slight smile daring to make itself known on my lips. I curled up into the ruby velvet armchair, my own spine folding the way the book's did. The old thing was creased from the countless times I'd opened it to the exact same page, refusing to venture any further or closer.

The Queen would never know about the damage to the book. She wouldn't dare grace this part of the castle. She doesn't read, believing it to be an act of peasantry. I, as did the rest of the palace, knew what would come if she did come face-to-face with this place. It was Her Majesty's father that loved to read. As much as it was said that she hated him, this seemed to be his last stronghold from here to Witzend, even in death.

I didn't allow myself to think too much about what would happen if this place was destroyed. It would only invoke a sadness that I couldn't afford to feel.

I stared down at the comfort of my favorite page. The waves danced on the expanse in black and white strokes. The sea foam crawled up towards the sky in bubbly tendrils. The pages smelled like salt and burnt sugar, the sound of indistinguishable creatures crooned to make an orchestral blur.

Father had always said we would visit the ocean one day. Together. With a picnic basket and Mother's ashes. She always loved the sea and Father always told of how he met her there. I missed her. I missed them both.

Maybe one day, I'd see Father again, if he wasn't dead like the rumors said. Maybe one day, we could finally spread her ashes in the water... set her free. Maybe-

"Having fun there?"

I gasped, slamming the book shut.

I couldn't see him in the darkness, but he was pale enough that his skin may as well have glowed.

"Ugh, I should have smelled you coming, Pit Stayne."

His silhouette moved a little. I think he was crossing his arms at me.

"Is that what I'm doomed to be called by you?"

"Until I can think of anything better, then yes. But I don't think I can top Pit Stayne."

He snorted. "Yes, you are quite the genius."

"And you're quite the pig."

His thin lips quirked up. "You always have to have the last word, don't you?"

I glowered at him. "Not always. Just when I want to piss someone off, or I want them to leave me alone."

He let out an amused exhale, not quite a laugh and not quite a snort. I wrapped my arms around my legs, still snuggled in the couch like a cat. I could feel his eyes tracing over every inch of me... as if he was desperate to memorize me.

"What?"

He nodded. "Has anyone told you that you're sexy when you're fired up?"

I ignored that comment, suppressing my desire to gag.

"You nearly ratted me out at dinner. Prattling to the Queen is not a game, you know?" I didn't really care as to why he did it, I was just desperate to divert from that comment. Those words knotted my stomach in a million different ways.