Who had written letters here?
Of all the beautiful rooms and galleries of this palace, I knew this would be my favorite. I was speechless.
Liam said, “Ye like this room, Woodshee?”
I nodded. “I’m already planning to sit there in that chair with my feet up on your lap, while we read books together.”
“Already plannin’ it?”
I walked over to a shelf of books. “Absolutely. Do you think there’s a secret passage behind the shelves? I would love that.”
He said, “I daena ken, we will need tae explore.”
I ran my fingers down the spines, but then my eyes were drawn to a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I pulled it out. “I love that this book is here.” I looked it over. “It looks so ancient, but it was just published… what…? A couple decades ago? Maybe it’s a first edition.”
He said, “Woodshee, I am so hungry — can we go tae the room? I canna leave ye here, ye will become lost, and we might not find each other for weeks.”
“That does seem likely. I’m taking this book though, it’s fascinating. How’s it so old?” I tucked it under my arm and followed him out. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever find this library again.”
He led me to our room.
When we were in our apartment, I said, “I’m so impressed you remembered how to get here.”
He said, “I am too hungry tae forget. M’stomach led the way, I was smellin’ the larder.” He pointed. “Look Woodshee! We hae a kitchen counter over there.”
He stalked over and bent down, I heard doors open. “We hae a bar and a refrigerator full of food.”
He pulled out a charcuterie tray, pulled the plastic off it and placed it on the counter. He looked behind himself for glassware. He got down a can of smoked almonds and a bottle of wine.
I said, “I think I forgot it wasn’t a hotel, that this is where we live now, and we are rich apparently.”
“Verra rich.”
He poured us each a glass and pulled the lid off the peanuts.
We began to eat, sitting on barstools, facing each other with my feet on the rungs of his stool. I piled salami and cheese on a cracker and ate it happily.
He groaned with pleasure while chewing.
While we ate I had the book in my lap. “Isn’t it weird, Liam? It’s Harry Potter, but it looks a hundred years old, at least.”
“Aye, but all the books looked like that.” He wadded up a piece of salami and stuck it in his mouth.
“But most of them were old books. It’s odd that an old book and a new book would be in the same condition, especially in such a nice library, one that is trying to keep it temperature-controlled, you know?”
I opened the front cover to look for the copyright, finding a bookplate, it said:
To my daughter, love, Lady Mairead
“Wait, when was she alive?” I showed that to Liam.
“Long time ago.”
Then I turned to the title page where it said,
To Mairead, Love, J K Rowling
“It’s signed, it must be worth a lot.” I flipped to the next page. “The copyright is 1997, and it’s a first edition.” I did some quick counting. “Twenty-six years old. Weird. Have you read it?”
