“It’s easier for everyone if I get here first.”
“And you like to do it.” Nikoly did not seem to be guessing.
Tiiran was surprised into meeting his gaze again. “Well… I… it’s peaceful in here in the mornings. And it gives me a chance to make sure everything is as it should be. As close to that as we can get now, anyway.”
Nikoly had not lost his smile. It was as warm as his gaze, though Tiiran couldn’t think of what would please him so… unless he was amused at Tiiran’s fondness for a building.
Tiiran looked away. “I suppose itisfunny that I enjoy getting up early to come in here.”
“Funny?” Nikoly echoed with some confusion. “I wouldn’t say that, just that I don’t understand it. The same way I don’t understand the joy Mattin will take in reading whatever is in those books that is probably someone’s dull life story. But it’s charming.”
“Mattin is charming, yes.” Tiiran grumpily poked at his sorted stacks, then shook himself. He didn’t have time for this. “There will be no cleaning or straightening again today. Or probably tomorrow. Too many copy requests.”
“More family histories?” Nikoly prompted. Tiiran thought there was something odd in his tone, but when he glanced up, Nikoly’s expression was only vaguely curious. Probably because there had been more requests than usual for noble family histories, particularly lately. Nobles usually kept their own histories, sending in copies to the library if it pleased them. They all must want secondary sources, trying to see whatothernoble families had in their records.
“Tye,” Tiiran had to pause to say the name instead of spitting it, “wasn’t the first to decide a look at her family’s history might prove her claim to the throne. But we can’t tell them no.” He growled a little despite this and ignored Nikoly’s small, delighted laugh. “I’ll work on some here, so everyone else can focus on their work without interruption.”
“But you don’t like being assigned to the desk.” Nikoly blinked innocently when Tiiran raised his head. “And, if I may say so, you’re not good at it.”
“You’re lucky I’m not a bee because Iwouldsting you.” Tiiran’s low snarl should not have sparked more fire in Nikoly’s eyes.
“Tell me what you need me to do.” Nikoly did not sayhoneybeeat the end this time but Tiiran heard it and threw a stack of copy requests at him in lieu of hissing. They fluttered back onto the desk, thankfully useless as projectiles.
Smiling happily, Nikoly collected each one and glanced up after looking them over. “Are these for the others too, or all for me? It will take me some time, perhaps days, to do them all. But if you wish it…”
“Don’t say it.” If he saidhoneybeeone more time….
“Tiiran,” Nikoly finished smoothly, “I will do them all. If you wish it,” he added again, their eyes meeting.
Something held Tiiran still, made him flush even though sunlight had not yet reached the desk.
“I don’t make wishes,” he answered after what felt like a heavy pause, his voice holding a rasp that Nikoly noticed.
“Did you not have tea? I can fetch you a cup.”
Tiiran would love more spring tea. It was going to be a long, tedious day and he was already tired. But the spring tea wasn’t a part of the budget. It came from Tiiran’s pockets and he was careful with how much he allowed himself. “I’m fine,” he said instead of any of that. “Split those up with the others and see what can get done today. Let me handle any visitors.”
Nikoly’s soft sigh was unexpected. “You work too hard.”
“Are you sure you’re not a noble?” Tiiran returned, a bit snappish again but no one would blame him. “Everyone else works this hard all the time.”
“Everyone else has help,” Nikoly answered quietly, but turned and went toward where the others had gathered around the tables with their pots of ink and reed pens or quills. He handed each of them a request. He kept two for himself, Tiiran noticed, then disappeared into the rest area, probably to get his own breakfast before he began.
Tiiran watched the assistants head off into the stacks, looking for what they needed to make copies of, then bent his head over a list of supplies for the binding of the copies they made. They were fortunate that no ruler yet had drained the palace coffers or diverted the money from the various taxes that went to palace upkeep. But, without a palace Head of House, there was also no one to approve more spending or to account for rising costs. That was beginning to be a problem too. Warring meant slow deliveries and higher fees for what came in because merchants had to take longer routes or hire security.
A steaming mug of tea, held in one of Nikoly’s prettily decorated hands, appeared before him. Nikoly placed it just to the side of Tiiran’s list before moving away. Tiiran turned to watch him go, dragging his eyes up from the curve of Nikoly’s behind, visible through his robe, while thinking that firm backside belonged on a guard who trained all day, not a librarian.
Tiiran turned around before Nikoly could catch him looking, then pulled the tea closer. The color was a lovely light brown; Nikoly had put cream in it. It smelled sweeter too, the bitterness masked with honey.
“Thank you?” Tiiran called after him, only growing more confused when Nikoly paused on the steps to glance over his shoulder at Tiiran, eyes wide. But Nikoly dipped his head in a nod and continued on, so Tiiran took a careful sip of his tea and hummed with pleasure at the taste before setting to work.
“What I am specifically looking for is a copy of the Balylithan family histories from before the rise of the first ruler.”
The third time the beat-of-four said it, his volume louder, his tone frostier, Tiiran looked up from his copy work ofA Guyde to the Beauteous Styles of the Rulers Ancient, the work of a noble historian with spidery handwriting from three centuries ago. Tiiran could have copied from the library’s copy, but that, apparently, was missing, which meant Tiiran would need to copy this bookagainin the future.
He’d been at it for hours already, squinting even in the midday light. His hair was starting to pull out of its knot. His mouth was dry. His stomach was gurgling, and he needed to rest his wrist but didn’t want to waste the full light with the script being so thin and faded.
He didn’t know what noble needed to know the styles of rulers past or why, but possibly they only wanted to know how to dress if Piya attempted some sort of coronation.
