Crossed Hearts | h.s

Five

"Hello," Geneva said as she entered the library.

The room was dark as the curtains were still drawn shut from the servants' nightly routine. Geneva squinted her eyes, looking around the room for the tall figure of Harry. She smiled to herself as she saw him slumped in a chair beside a window, a candle flickering on a table next to him allowing just enough light for her to be able to see that his eyes were closed. Silently, she walked across the room to the window and wrapped her hand around a thick rope that was attached to the velvet curtain. With a swift tug of the rope, the curtains were pulled to one side of the window. Sunlight beamed into the room, falling directly on Harry's face.

"Good mor—ning!" she sang loudly, drawing out the phrase slowly.

Harry's eyes flew open, the white of his eyes showing greatly due to the surprise attack from Geneva. He jumped to his feet, and stood as if he were in line with soldiers, waiting to salute his general. His gaze was fixated on the wall behind Geneva, looking straight past her, and his lips formed a rigid line.

Geneva burst into laughter at his reaction, leaning backwards as she giggled. "Calm down," she said between breaths as her laughter slowed. "It's only me."

"Apologies, your grace."

"Didn't sleep much last night?" Geneva asked, turning on her heel and walking toward a shelf of books. She glanced over her shoulder as she perused the aisle, finding Harry still standing rigidly. "You know how I feel about formalities like that, Harry. Relax a bit."

She could see that it went against everything that had been engrained upon him. He sighed, and rolled his shoulders to loosen his stance, his chainmail clanging as he moved. "No, I did not sleep much last night," he finally answered once he was calm.

"Neither did I," she said, recalling her nightmare and inhaling an uneasy breath. She returned her attention to the books, and ran her slender finger across the spines of them as she searched for the one she needed.

"What are you looking for?" Harry inquired, his voice closer.

Geneva didn't turn around to see where he had moved to. "A book entitled Marriage and Divorce."

"What?" he asked, his voice inflecting with confusion.

"Ah—there we are," she said, ignoring Harry's voice and sliding the book from the shelf. She waved it gently in the air to show Harry, whose face still displayed confusion, and then trotted over to a chair by the unlit fireplace. "Would you?" she asked, nodding to it.

Harry complied, and kneeled to the ground to start the fire. There was a moment of silence as Harry unsuccessfully tried to spark a flame, and Geneva flipped through the dusty pages, until Harry finally stood to his feet in frustration. Geneva looked up at him with furrowed brows.

"The damned thing won't light."

"Don't worry yourself over it. Sit down," she replied, then sticking her nose back into the book.

Harry drummed his fingers relentlessly against the arm of his chair as he watched the princess scan the pages of the book. He tried his best to distract himself with something else—the decaying nature outside, the distant hymns from the nearby nunnery, and even a book on mythology—yet, he found himself admiring Geneva's beauty instead. He suppressed a smile as he remembered the way they would chase each other as children; she hadn't changed much. Her hair was darker, her eyes were brighter, and she was even more beautiful.

Her lips began to move, formulating words that were inaudible to Harry. He shook his head to relieve himself of his thoughts. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, are you alright? You've been staring at me for ages."