Page 30 of The Isles of the Gods
“With your wife to follow?”
“We did not marry,” he replies. “We found we did not suit each other.”
“I didn’t think any sort of romantic entanglement suited you, Wollesley.”
“Correct.”
“Better a book than a person?”
“A book rarely lets you down,” he says crisply. “You will find friends in its pages when they are nowhere else.”
“Come now, Wollesley, I—” I have no idea where I’m going with that sentence, because he and I were never friends at school, and it would be laughable to argue otherwise—or pretend we’re talking about books at all.
“Please, Your Highness,” he retorts. “Your friendship spanswide but never deep. It didn’t even reach the ones who thought they were assured of it, let alone someone like me.”
“Hard to imagine why you could possibly have been excluded.” I almost snap the words, and I regret them as soon as they’re out. It’s my role to be the generous one. It always is, when you have everything.
Wollesley levels a long stare at me, then takes the two steps backward determined by protocol—even if he and I are the only ones who recognize it—and turns away, to disappear belowdecks once more.
I know what Wollesley was talking about when he said my friendship didn’t reach the ones who thought they could rely on it—he meant Jude. If we were closer, he’d know what I tried after Jude disappeared. He’d know everything I tried, from the reasonable to the outright desperate. But I suppose for us to be closer, I’d have to…well, be a better friend.
This voyage is inducing a lot more self-examination than I anticipated, and I’d like it to stop.
I only remember Selly’s beside me when she speaks, and I look across to see her studying the stairs speculatively. Then she turns her green-eyed gaze on me, and it’s instantly ten percent less friendly.
“He did mention you knew each other,” she says, studying me as if—and I didn’t think this was possible—she’s finding new flaws she hadn’t seen before.
“We were in the same year at school,” I reply. “He left a couple of years ago, though. His parents and the headmaster thought tutors would work better, as I understand it.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Too clever,” I interpret, shoving away the mood he’s left me in and reaching for a smile instead. “Drove the form masters mad with questions. And as you can see, he doesn’t bring out anyone’s best side.”
“I like him,” she says, eyeing me like she’s issuing a dare.
“Oh, all right. I’ll apologize later. But I’msureWollesley was engaged. Strange, to see him heading for the Bibliotek.”
“He said it didn’t work out,” she says, shrugging.
“Mmmm.” It’s my turn to narrow my eyes now, thoughtful. “That sort of engagement is very carefully negotiated. It’s not really about whether the happy couple are enthusiastic about it.” Then the truth clicks into focus, and I grin.
“What?” She’s scowling.
I ease in a touch closer, bowing my head to confide in her. “I’ll give you any odds you like that the engagement wasn’t called off properly. Or at all.”
“What, you mean…” Her eyes widen, hostility momentarily forgotten.
“I promise you, Wollesley’s not the sort to propose to anyone. I thought when I saw the announcement that his family must have bullied him into it. I’d say he’s taken what he could, tried to disguise himself—that’s the only reason shaving his head ever makes sense, it’snothis look—and he’s running for the hills. Or more accurately, the library. The Bibliotek is on neutral ground—so the knowledge inside it can never belong to any one country. His family could have wailed all they like, my sister never would have retrieved him for them.”
Selly raises one brow. “Well, that’s two of us who’ve had our plans ruined. We should form a club.”
I’m about to shoot back a quick reply when she glancesaway at the sails once more, and I get a better look at her face. There’s a tension I hadn’t noticed before in her jaw, and the shadows beneath her eyes are showing up like bruises on her fair skin.
And then I remember she usually bunks with the first mate, and it was probably her bed I was in last night, while she made do with a hammock.
“You know,” I say slowly, “you’re right.”
She’s all suspicion as she eyes me. “About?”
