“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Fox?”
Evangeline startled at the scratchy voice, and she turned to find a diminutive librarian who looked as old as Time.
“Forgive me for frightening you. My name is Nicodemus, and I could not help but notice that you seem to be searching for something.” The smile he gave her was framed by a long silver beard with threads of gold that matched the trim on his white robes.
“Thank you, I’m just a little lost,” Evangeline hedged, and she almost left it at that. But if she walked out of the library now, she’d be leaving with more questions than she’d come in with. She still didn’t think it was wise to ask about the Valory Arch, but maybe she could dance close enough to the subject without raising alarms that might lead to another attack on her life. “I was actually looking for books on your Valors, but I haven’t been able to find any.”
“I’m afraid that’s because you’ve been looking in the wrong place.”
For someone so old, Nicodemus moved swiftly, rapidly disappearing down a nearby hall, giving her only a moment to decide and follow.
She had no reason to hesitate, but clearly she wasn’t past her recent experience with the matriarch. No one had ever tried to kill Evangeline before, and it left her feeling as if death was a little too close.
She had to stop herself from turning around several times as Nicodemus guided her deeper into the library, past more bookshelves, broken up by the occasional striking portrait of Apollo. A few steps later, the tiled floors shifted to aged green stones, and the walls changed from shelves of books to a series of curious doors labeled with symbols of weapons and stars and a few other figures she couldn’t quite make out.
Finally, Nicodemus stopped in an alcove harboring a rounded door that was branded with the head of a wolf wearing a crown.
“It is believed that every story about the Valors is on the other side of this door,” he said. “Unfortunately, no one has been able to open this door since the Age of the Valors.”
30
The handbell choir had arrived in the grand courtyard of Wolf Hall the day after Apollo’s proposal to Evangeline. They had appeared precisely at noon, clad in heavy red capes to better contrast with the snow that would surely fall soon. There had been 144 members of the choir, one for every hour until the wedding. And every hour, one silently departed.
Tonight there were only twelve ringers left—twelve hours until tomorrow morning’s wedding—and then there was the cursed prince who’d joined them.
With a deep breath, Evangeline cracked open a pair of twin doors. Cold brushed against her as she stepped onto her balcony, letting the sweet hum of the bells and the deep sound of Apollo’s serenade surround her.
“My love!” he shouted. “What should I sing for you tonight?”
“It’s too cold out there for you,” she called. “You’re going to freeze if you keep this up.”
“I would happily freeze for you, my heart.”
Evangeline closed her eyes. It was the same thing he said every night, and then every night she stood there watching and listening until the tips of her hair were turned to frost and her breath became ice. Freezing along with Apollo felt like penance for what she’d helped Jacks do to him. It was tempting to do the same thing tonight, to simply stand there and disregard everything that had happened in the Fortuna Vaults, marry Apollo, break the spell, and hope that they could start over. Just because he was cursed didn’t mean their story had to be cursed.
But, no matter how much Evangeline wanted to, she couldn’t forget about the prophecy, and she couldn’t marry Apollo without knowing more about the Valory Arch and what would happen if it opened.
She took another deep breath, and before she could change her mind, she cried, “Apollo, I don’t want you to catch cold before our wedding. Why don’t you come up here instead?”
It was dark, but Evangeline swore his face lit up. Then he was climbing the wall.
“Apollo! Stop—what are you doing?”
He paused, already quite a few feet off the ground, hands grasping thick stones that must have been slick with ice, to say, “You told me to come up.”
“I thought you’d use the stairs. You’ll fall to your death.”
“Have a little faith in your prince, my bride.” He continued to scale the wall, only pausing when his personal guard attempted to follow. “I’ll be fine on my own, Havelock.”
Apollo reached the balcony a few agile moves later and deftly hopped over the railing.