The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER XXXVII | MOURN THE PAST

       THE FRAGRANCE OF the library was better than that of a bouquet of aromatic red roses or fresh spices and herbs. The high-ceilinged room beheld a scent of ancient, leather-bound books with cracking spines and yellowing parchment, of the old wood that the shelves were made from, and faintly, despite the king's previous reservations, of the simmering tea and fresh biscuits that Alexander sometimes brought there for Maarit—albeit secretly.

It was a nice scent. Comforting.

After another long day of training with Theodoracius, Maarit was perfectly content to sit on the cold floor between two bookshelves, staring up at the glass ceiling and the chandelier that was suspended from the very centre of the dome. The orange glow of the setting sun was just beginning to set the sky afire. Trickling through the glass, sunlight danced across the chandelier's crystals, rays bounding off in every direction and casting shadows created by the tall shelves across the room.

       Maarit's legs were numb enough to make sitting on the floor uncomfortable, but moving from her current position even more so. Across her shoulders spilled her thick hair, still damp from the bath she had taken to cleanse her sun-kissed skin of sweat and grime. There was an open book draped across her lap and a dozen more piled up beside her. They were more books on soothsaying that possessed extensive information on the history of past influential soothsayers, numerous significant prophecies and methods of controlling one's powers.

       Maarit had never had this much knowledge at her disposal. It was overwhelming. Back at the library in her village, there had only been one book about soothsaying that had informed her how to go about receiving visions; but it had been written from a biased point of view, and presented soothsaying as something demonic and unnatural.

       This was different. These tomes affirmed the fact that her powers were not a weakness. They did not make her evil. They made her strong, and she could do a whole lot of good if she used them properly.

       After a few minutes of flipping through pages and absorbing what she could, the only sound being the rustling parchment, the double doors at the library's entrance flew open. Alexander swept into the room, his hand outstretched to the side. Behind him trailed a floating tray, on top of which a steaming cup was settled.

       His dark, enigmatic eyes swept the room until they landed on her. The man's lips twitched slightly, graced by the smallest of smiles. He, too, enslaved by a sadistic king at a young age, had a lifetime of pain in his eyes. "I shouldn't be doing this... again," he grumbled, gesturing to the cup of tea he'd brought her.

       She looked back at him, raising her eyebrows. "Must we really have this discussion every time you do this? It was your decision, anyway. No one forced you to do nice things for me, Xander."

"Don't spill it or I will be forced to explain to His Majesty that I've been sneaking drinks into a place filled with his precious, very delicate books."

"Oh, don't you worry about him," Maarit scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "If I spill it, you can just use magic to clean it all up and he'll never know. Anyway, I can handle him. It seems that he is, for the most part, unable to resist me. Although apparently, neither are you. Thank you, by the way, for blatantly disobeying your king's orders to bring me my favourite tea in the library." She beamed at him, tucking a damp lock of dark hair behind her ear. "You do know that you're not my servant, right?"