A Beast's Tale

Chapter 1

I just wanted to read. Alone. I didn't want to talk to anybody; I didn't want to hear anybody; and I certainly didn't want to see anybody.

Leon had accosted me in the hallway before I even made it to my office, yelling about my latest purge. He'd change his tune once he knew all the details surrounding that unfortunate event.

If I ever told him.

If Obsidian didn't win this time.

The near invasion, the arms dealing, the new weapons development, the informant—everything was a mess.

Except for the library.

Of all days for the head maid to insist upon having the library cleaned.

The smell of wood polish assaulted my nostrils as soon as I opened the large wooden door carved with intricate ivy leaves. If that old woman had any sense, she would have ordered the maids to be done before I arrived, but she had little sense to speak of.

I scanned the room. The candles in the large central chandelier were dark, as were the smaller chandeliers radiating out from it, but an ample amount of sunlight poured in from the many windows along the southern wall. Its rays reflected off of the polished bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling and the free-standing shelves scattered about. Even the woodwork on the ornate sofas, chairs, and coffee tables glistened.

At least the maids were thorough this time.

My eyes landed on an abandoned book.

I sighed and crossed the wood floor toward the alcove below the central, largest window, my booted footsteps muted by an occasional rug imitating a rose in bloom. No maid was worth the value of a book. The one left on the window seat was a volume of short stories; not one of mine, but it belonged on a shelf, and the librarian should have attended to it.

Except his station at the intake desk was empty. I could only attribute the neatness of the stacks on his desk to the maids, who had done their duty and left.

That man's incompetence grated on my nerves. 

I bypassed the desk and slotted the book into its place on the eastern wall. Third shelf from the left, fifth up, sixteenth book in the row. Quicker than waiting for the librarian to put it away. If he had been in charge of my books, I would have terminated his position long ago, but he knew enough to leave me and my personal collection alone. A satisfactory replacement who could do the same had yet to be found.

I strode toward the back of the library and the hidden door to my inner sanctum, my irritation growing—and then I saw the door to my private library was open.

Had the head maid lost her mind?

She and the other servants knew better than to enter that room without my permission. I managed the cleaning and upkeep of all my private spaces within the palace, my grandfather's estate, and everywhere I lingered longer than twenty-four hours. Such an arrangement made it easier for me to prevent certain modes of assassination.

Or had she hired a new maid?

That stupid woman needed to grow a backbone and refuse employment of those she disliked. I shouldn't have to drive them away for her.

A soft humming came to my ears as I approached the doorway.

She stood with her back to me as she dusted the shelves, the glossy strands of her long, black ponytail catching the sunlight streaming through the window. The short-sleeved, knee-length black dress clothing her petite frame looked dull by comparison. A white apron tied in a neat bow around her slender waist completed the look.