Page 93 of Not Another Happily Ever After

He was right.

My jaw nearly hits the floor as I take in the dozens of ladders stretching toward the multicolored levels above, some seeming to climb forever. And the books…they’re everywhere. Lining the shelves. Resting in neat, towering stacks across the floor. They fill every nook and corner of the library, while colorful lanterns bathe the space in warm light and the violet sky gleams through the stained-glass windows, scattering jewel toned reflections all around.

“Oh, Myrrdin…” I try to speak, but the sight alone steals every word I can think to say.

“Come on.” He gently tugs on the sleeve of my dress. “I need to drop something off, and then we’ll find those answers you’re looking for.”

I eagerly fall into step beside him as he guides me from floor to floor, each one more whimsical than the last.

One floor is awash in brightly painted colors, its walls lined with painted portraits of people in every imaginable hue. Another is cloaked in black from floor to ceiling, with scatterings of chalk-written passages of travelers before. On every level, oversized cushions cradle patrons lost in the pages of distant worlds.

If only staying lost were that easy.

I twirl around in wonder of it all, when we pass a small group of patrons sitting cross-legged on the floor between towering bookshelves.

“Grimm!” one of the girls calls, springing eagerly to her feet. A rosy blush blooms across Myrrdin’s cheeks as the petite brunette skips our way.

“Grimm?” I whisper, blinking up at him.

“My last name.” One corner of his mouth quirks upward as he turns toward the girl. “Hello, Rose.”

“How long has it been?” Rose asks, her big brown eyes twinkling up at him.

“Far too long, I fear.” Myrrdin’s voice cracks, his expression unlike any I’ve seen on him before. It’s lopsided and awkward—not at all like the knight I know. Though something tells me Rose knows him far better.

“And who is this?” Rose asks, turning her warm gaze to me.

Myrrdin straightens, as though suddenly remembering I was here.

“My apologies,” he begins. “This is?—”

“Sunday,” I smile, offering a small bow.

Myrrdin’s brows knit, but if he wonders why I didn’t introduce myself as the princess, he doesn’t say.

“Sunday,” Rose repeats softly, taking my cold hand in hers without flinching. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you into my home.”

“Thank you—wait,” I blink. “This is your home?”

The smile that spreads across her face is positively radiant. She nods, giving a little twirl in her long-sleeved, pale yellow dress.

“It is!” she exclaims. “Well, technically my mother’s. But what’s theirs is ours, right?” She winks, playfully nudging my arm.

“Right.” I force a laugh, hiding just how painfully aware I am of that truth.

Not well enough.

Myrrdin sees straight through the smile plastered beneath the hollows of my cheeks and is already devising a plan of action.

“It’s been so lovely seeing you, Rose. But…we really can’t stay for long,” he says.

Rose’s face falls, mirroring the disappointment in Myrrdin’s eyes.

“You’re leaving?” She asks. “But you’ve only just arrived.”

Myrrdin struggles to tighten his resolve, but he isn’t the kind of man to shirk his duties for his own desires, even if those desires involve a beautiful young woman who’s clearly smitten with him. Luckily, for the both of them, I have no such obligations. Well, aside from marrying the prince—which is arguably the most painstaking duty of them all. But he isn’t here, we are, and I intend to use every second of his absence to prove Rhidland right. To be the good.

Starting with giving these two some time to catch up.