“Your Highness,” they said in unison, bowing their heads. She squirmed under the address. Liaman looked younger than she, almost boyish, but he moved with an aged grace. Titus was a large man, larger even than Alexander, and had certainly known a battle or two. His head was shaved, and he had a hint of a beard. A jagged scar lined his jaw, and one broke the arch of his right eyebrow.
Alexander continued, and she followed. As they made their way toward a gated building, a man stepped out to meet them with two soldiers at his flank. When he reached Alexander and Norah, he brought his fist to his chest in salute.
“Your Highness,” Alexander said. “I present Captain Caspian Frey.”
Caspian was handsome in an honest way. He was a kind-looking man with a generous smile and blond hair like many of the Northmen. He looked to be about the same age as Alexander.
“Captain Frey,” she greeted him.
He smiled warmly as he bowed. “Your Highness.” He then opened his arm to the men behind him. “Allow me to present Aaron and Daniel.” Each man bowed his head as his name was called. “With Titus and Liaman, these men make up your core guard. You’ll never be without at least one of them.”
“Thank you,” she replied, although it came out as more of a question.
“These men are all aware of your situation, and will help you acclimate,” Alexander told her. “You can ask them anything.”
Norah gave an appreciative nod. That she was truly thankful for, although she’d wait just a bit before she peppered them with questions.
Caspian gave her another bow. “We’ll leave you to your business. Welcome home, Your Highness.”
“Thank you… Captain.” The titles still challenged her.
Caspian and the two soldiers left them to their walk.
Alexander turned to her. “I should get you back.”
Right. She stifled a rising groan at the thought of returning to her chamber. “I suppose so.” They started back toward the castle.
As they walked, her eye caught a large, majestic building with brightly hued stained glass threaded together with elegant tracery stretching to its peaks.
She stopped in her step. “What’s that?”
“The library.”
It was beautiful, sitting squarely and centered by a pointed arch over heavy wood doors. A vaulted walk with carved pillars lined its perimeter, and a tower in the back stretched toward the sky.
“It houses the largest collection of knowledge in the world,” he told her. “History, philosophy, all modern works of science and study—it’s all here. Everything about Mercia and beyond.”
“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, forgetting everything else for a moment. “Can I see inside?”
Alexander hesitated, looking toward the castle, no doubt mulling over his promise to her grandmother to promptly return her.
“Just a look,” she pressed.
He sighed. “I suppose a quick look won’t hurt.”
She grinned.
Alexander waved the guard to stay outside as they walked through the carved double doors.
Norah gasped as she looked around at the magnitude of books that lay shelved to the ceiling. “It’s incredible!”
“When the visions foretold the Shadowmen would invade Mercia, your father ordered all the books and scrolls to be taken to Aleon for safekeeping. It took over ten thousand men.”
The mention of Aleon made her stiffen. She wanted to ask him about the marriage, but that seemed too personal now. “Is Aleon safer than Mercia?” she asked instead.
“Not necessarily, but the Shadow King didn’t have his destruction focused on Aleon.”
No, it had been focused on her. Norah bit her lip and turned her eyes back to the shelved books.
“Your father had every intent to change the future, but he wasn’t one to take risks. He always said knowledge was the most important thing in the world, besides you. After we took the mountains of Bahoul and drove the Shadow King back deep into the Shadowlands, only then did we know it was safe to bring everything home. And it was safe for you to come home.”
She clasped the pendant around her neck, running her thumb over the winterhawk. “My grandmother said the Shadow King will still come for me.”
His eyes burned a deep blue, then darkened like the ocean. “He’ll try.”
She swallowed. The thought of a dark foe coming for her rattled her. It more than rattled her—it scared her.
“But I won’t let that happen,” he assured her.
She nodded. She hoped so.
He caught her arm. “Hey”—he called her eyes to his—“I would never let anyone hurt you. Ever.”
The promise in his voice… It was personal, beyond duty, beyond sworn loyalty.
He let go of her and continued walking through the library. “Thousands of years of work are kept within these walls. We spent many hours here when we were young, reading, studying.” He stopped, growing somber, and touched a leather-bound book on the shelf. “This one you loved.”
“What is it?”
“A story—told in a collection of poems.” He pulled it from its place and held it for her. The darker dye of the leather had been worn through to the tanned softness underneath; the evidence of many readings. “It holds your favorite poem.”
“Do you know which one?” Silly question—of course he wouldn’t.
Alexander grew quiet, looking down at the book. Then he slowly opened its laced pages. He selected the passage, its final stanza, but his eyes found hers as he spoke the words.
“Sleep now, love, and wait for me
For in time, it will come to pass
That I will follow after, wrapped in rest beneath the earth—”
“Together, my darling, at last,” she whispered, finishing. Emotion rippled through her—a familiar longing, an ache deep within. She knew it. She knew this, knew the words and the feeling and meaning. She knew the story.
Alexander stood frozen, staring. His lips parted. He stepped closer. “You remember?” he breathed.
She nodded with a shaky breath. “I know it.”
“What else?” he asked, eager now. “Anything?”
But her excitement fizzled. No. Nothing else had come. No memories, not even the memory of actually reading the book, only the knowledge of it. Slowly, she shook her head.
He swallowed, straightening and stepping back, as if collecting his fallen hope. “It’s all right,” he said. “It will come.”
“Unless it doesn’t.”
Now she could see it—the sorrow. But then he snatched it back quickly, hiding it behind a wall. “It will,” he said with a face of perfect reassurance.
She looked through his words. What was he hiding behind that wall? Then she paused. “You know my favorite poem by memory?”
The countenance of perfection fell, and he swallowed. His lips parted, and his breath quickened. “Norah, I—”
The doors of the library swung open behind them, and she turned to see a man step inside. When his eyes found them, a large smile split across his lips, and he started toward them. His height, coupled with the shape of his face and jawline, gave him away almost immediately: Alexander’s brother. Adrian.
Alexander had said they’d been close. Act close… smile, she told herself.