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“What? Done? Already?” Kestrel stammered, her mind suddenly reeling with all the things she still wanted to ask him. About the Ashen. About prisoners of war crimes and how they’d been dealt with in the past. Anything to help her better understand this place and the circumstances she’d been thrust into.

Instead, she’d let herself get swept away in the stories of their realm.

“Maybe we could do just a little bit more?”

Barnabus looked genuinely conflicted, but his eyes shifted to the door behind her. Kestrel turned around just in time to see Micah barging in.

“I’ve come to rescue you from boredom, fair maiden.” He gave a sweeping bow.

Though Kestrel was endeared by his theatrics, her fingers still clenched the edge of the table. She wanted to insist on staying longer, wanted to devour the knowledge buried deep in these books, the information that had been kept from her for years.

She knew what they’d say though: better not to keep the queen waiting.

Kestrel forced herself to stand. When she did, Barnabus stood as well and he reached across the table to begin collecting his books. Before he could, Kestrel threw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she said into his shoulder, and felt him stiffen at her touch. “I am very grateful to you for leading my studies of the realm’s history.”

“Y-you are?” He softened just as Kestrel released him. “Most people don’t find this sort of stuff that interesting.”

“Well, most people haven’t spent their entire lives shut away from everything, without any information about anything. And I’m discovering that I don’t much like being left in the dark, especially when it seems like everyone else knows something I don’t.”

A sad smile tugged on his lips. “I know the feeling.”

She wondered what he meant, but didn’t think he’d answer if she asked. His eyes kept nervously flicking back toward Micah. Not out of fear it seemed, but just out of a general sense of wanting to be mindful of the schedule they had laid out for her.

As she was spinning away, he blurted, “I’m sorry for earlier. I know it’s rude to snap at people, and I didn’t do it because I was mad, I just—keeping the books organized is important to me.”

Kestrel faced him again, settling a hand over her heart and feeling her mother’s ring. “No apology necessary. I promise to keep the books organized. But maybe I could borrow one someday? I do love to read.”

“So do I,” he said. And then, looking back toward the bookshelf where they’d first met, he asked, “Are those the types of books you like? The ones you were looking at earlier?”

“Mhmm.”

Barnabus nodded. “One will be waiting for you in your bedchamber by the time you’re done with the queen then. I give you my word.”

“Come on,” Micah groaned from the entryway. “It’s stuffy in here and I’m hungry.”

As if her stomach heard him, it growled its agreement. She gave Barnabus a wave. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting. You are coming, right?”

The suggestion made him look uncomfortable, like the very idea of leaving this library would turn him to ash. “No, I’ll stay here. I need to prepare for tomorrow’s studies anyway.”

“If you insist. Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.”

Kestrel left him to it and made her way over to Micah who was leaning up against the doorframe.

“Finally! I was about to suffocate if I had to wait in that dusty old library any longer.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” she said, as Micah shut the doors behind them.

Once they were a safe distance away, he eyed her suspiciously. “You’re joking. That place smells like the butt-end of week-old bread stuffed inside my riding boots.”

“Gross!” Kestrel laughed, and he did too.

After their laughter had faded and they were farther down the hall, he wriggled his reddish-brown eyebrows at her. “But really, now that ol’ Barnacle is gone, you don’t have to pretend to like it in there. No one does but him. He’s odd like that. Likes to keep to himself. Doesn’t much like people, unless they’re in books.”

The more he spoke poorly about his brother, the more Kestrel felt a heat in herself rising. Even though she knew Micah teased just about everyone, she still wasn’t too keen on the ideathat this was how people treated Barnabus. But she also knew humor was the only language Micah spoke.