The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 27

I dress in one of my most comfortable tunics, a pale green linen shift belted loosely with a gold cord. After snatching a book from my desk, I pad quietly to the staircase, making my way up to the seventh floor.

The hallway is quieter than usual. A few servants shuffle about as they perform their duties, talking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons sleeping behind their thick wooden doors. Likely, most will be nursing a severe headache today.

The door to the library stands open. I slip inside, smiling to myself when I spot a familiar, dark head peeking up at me from the centre of the room.

I slide down onto the pile of cushions Meg has tossed onto the floor. She doesn't appear to have lost much sleep, which doesn't surprise me, as I have never known her to have so much as a hair out of place.

"You look well," I comment, arranging my skirt around my legs and then settling back against the pillows.

"So do you." She tilts her head at me.

I feel my face warm under her gaze and flip open my novel.

"Wait a moment." She scoots closer and playfully pokes my cheek. "What happened to you last night?"

I jerk my head away, feigning indifference and pretending to become engrossed in my book. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, please." She snatches the book from my hand, making a show of holding it just out of my reach. "Do you think I didn't notice how you completely disappeared?"

I make a half-hearted attempt at grabbing my book back. "I didn't disappear."

"You most certainly did." She tosses the book behind her and leans back, her brown eyes scrutinizing me.

I feel myself squirming under her cool gaze and self-consciously touch my lips, cursing myself immediately when her face lights up with understanding.

"There's a boy, isn't there?" she asks, laughing with glee at my cheeks reddening in response. "I knew it. Who is he?"

"No one you know," I say, quickly. "He's an old friend from the Outer City. He turned up at the ball last night—one thing led to another and..." The lie comes quickly and I gain a little more time by trailing off.

Meg tosses a pillow at me and I catch it instinctively. "Miss Fellows, I had no idea. I wish you had introduced me!"

"It happened quickly," I say, shrugging and allowing myself a cheeky grin.

"So, what's he like?" Sitting cross-legged on the cushions, her chin in her hands, Meg seems younger. Her familiar mannerisms and conspiratorial nature are far removed from the cool, stoic princess I met just a few weeks earlier.

"He's kind," I tell her vaguely. "Smart. Really driven."

"Handsome?"

"Yes, handsome." Will's grey eyes and stubbled jaw fill my mind as I relax into the conversation. I find myself smiling at the memory and have to keep from hugging myself.

"You must really like him. Your whole face has lit up!"

I pause, catching myself partway between a lie and a truth. "He's special," I affirm neutrally.

"He sounds wonderful." Meg sighs, her clear face open and truly glad for me.

I feel a stab of guilt for lying to her, but push the ugly feeling deep down inside before I can consider the web of lies I have spun.

I bite my lip as I busy myself rearranging the cushions, buying myself some time and averting my gaze from hers. A surprisingly large part of myself longs to toss all pretenses aside and relax into a genuine friendship. I wish I could flop down next to Meg and relate every detail about Will and our night together, to give in to the fact that my heart is fairly bursting with the joy and confusion of everything.