“Ah, just what I love to read for fun,” I say, though I watch Fin’s face carefully as I respond.
“I thought, what better to lull us back to sleep?” he says, his carefree grin never faltering.
My heart falters a bit, though. Every single book is a census record, most from Dwellen, but others are from the surrounding kingdoms. “You’re still looking for him.”
Fin doesn’t bother to look up at me. He just settles into a seat and starts flipping through one of the books, taking notes on a parchment laid out on the table next to him.
“I thought you decided to take a break,” I try again when Fin doesn’t respond.
“I did.”
“Then why are you looking now?”
“Isn’t it within the definition of a break that the break would end at some point, and then work would resume?”
I bite my lip, but I take a seat across from Fin, nonetheless. Fin worked himself sick searching for his father when Kiran and the vizier had first told him of his and Kiran’s illegitimacy. Of course, no one outside of the vizier and direct family could know. The fact that the twins are not descendants of the late king, and that Naenden law does not allow females on the throne, means that the next person in line for the throne is the king’s illegitimate son.
And that son happens to be Az.
I think we all shudder daily considering what Az might do if he gets his hands on the throne. Az, the boy I was infatuated with my entire childhood. Az, who came running to rid my family’s hovel of snakes and spiders anytime my sister, Dinah, or I screamed. Az, who slit the throat of his lover, just to keep her from spilling his secrets. Az, who ordered Dinah killed if I didn’t do as he asked.
Az, who hates the fae despite the fact, or possibly because, they are secretly part of his heritage.
No. No one can find out that Kiran isn’t the rightful heir to the throne.
Still. Fin has searched. Kiran has discouraged it, but Fin reminded him that while we were trying our utmost to keep their illegitimacy a secret, a loose end remained. It was very possible that their father was out there somewhere, well aware that his son occupied the throne of Naenden, and was biding his time until revealing such information served him.
Best we find him first, Fin had contended.
Kiran couldn’t argue with that. None of us could. But in the past year, Fin’s efforts turned up very little by way of his heritage, and he eventually grew discouraged.
Kiran and I thought it for the best when Fin abandoned his efforts, but now it seems he hasn’t abandoned them at all.
He’s just found himself a bigger library.
So I pluck a census off the pile on the desk and start to read.
We come up with very little in the several hours before the sun rises and dabbles sprinkles of light over the pages.
My eye starts to drift, and the sleep my body so craves begins to catch up to me.
It probably isn’t for the best if I become nocturnal, but hey, if Blaise can do it, I don’t see why I can’t.
I’m in the middle of one of those weird falling sensations accompanied by a jerk when Fin’s chair scrapes loudly against the floor.
“Asha. Asha, I think I found something—”
He is quickly interrupted by a hush from the librarian, at whom he shoots a rather disarming grin, but is met only by another round of scolding.
He rolls his eyes as she walks away.
“It really is a shame that can’t work on everyone,” I say. “I mean, how will you sleep tonight knowing there’s someone out there immune to your charms?”
A grin tugs at Fin’s lips. “What are you even talking about?”
He shoves his book at me, pointing to a piece of script. It’s a list of merchants with permits to cross the Sahli and trade in Meranthi around the time Kiran and Fin were born.
“If our mother was trying to sire an heir she could claim was Rajeen’s, who better to pick than a male who wouldn’t stick around? Someone who had a permit to get out of Meranthi?” Fin asks.
Before I can examine the document further, someone else enters the library, alerting us to her presence with a rather squeaky cough.
Fin’s eyes go wide. He quickly raises a hand, as if he’s scratching the side of his face.
“You’re really awful at making it look like you’re not trying to hide from someone, you know,” I murmur as Imogen, Ellie’s lady’s maid, approaches us.
“Think you could scare her off for me?” Fin asks under his breath.
“Why would you want me to do that, Phineas?” I say, imitating the way Imogen is often prone to using Fin’s full name.
“You know why.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think you and Imogen would make a cute couple. You both have that…” I screw up my face, struggling to find a torturous enough comparison.
“Asha.” Fin is practically growling under his breath.
“You really should give her a chance, Phineas. The two of you would be adorable together. Unless, of course, there’s someone else you have in mind.”
Fin’s eyes flash in irritation. His cheeks flush with heat at the not-so-vague reference to my sister, whom Fin has been avoiding any discussion of for the better part of a year now. Despite finding excuses to encourage the kitchen staff to leave leftovers out for my sister’s food bank, happening to be in the library anytime she’s there, or asking about my father incessantly, knowing the conversation will turn to news of my sister’s wellbeing.
