[35.1] CURTESY

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For we wolves covet but one thing, and without it, we become undone.
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[SHADE SHADOWS]

I stare at the black covers of the journal, my fingers trace the edges. I know that I am alone, but I still look around as if to ensure I am, before lifting one of the loose boards of the shelves, slipping the journal under the hollow wood on a shelf I am sure to remember.

I cannot walk around with the journal of an old King, but neither can I continue to read those prized pages within the walls of the library.

The possibilities of a master catching me in the act were too far great to risk.

In truth, catching me reading any book may warrant a master's wrath, as I am meant to clean and only clean.

Still, even after understanding all these things, my heart remains greedy and stubborn.

I wish to read more.

For how can he, Xiirian Adonis Prime, the 8th Night Wolf share a loneliness so similar to mine, if he is a king and I am slave and a Keffer?

I had to read more.

I must. It was as if those pages were calling to me.

I covered the book beneath the wood, shelving books above it, before drying my sweaty nervous hands against my skirt, my gaze searching once more to ensure I haven't been seen, although I know I have never set eyes on any other master other than the one I know.

My heart stopped when I spotted Diane, on the floor, staring up at me with her beady eyes.

I let out a relieved breath, coming down the ladder, carefully.

"You scared me," I scolded the black bird, reaching the floor, "But I know you can keep a secret," I grinned.

Diane cawed and I chuckled.

The bird hopped backward as I stepped off, my gaze trailing back up to the hiding spot.

"Just till evening," I told her, my gaze trailing back to the hidden spot.

Diane remained silentuntil I faced the rest of the library.

Shelves still awaited thorough cleaning.

I sighed, glancing down at the raven, "back to work then."

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Dusting and wiping down shelves, transporting stacks and stacks of books, my arms grew tired but at least Diane's caws keep me company.

I had to stop a few times to rest, cursing at the shelves for being this long and stubbornly tall, that I have to take multiple rounds to clear a single shelf.

To make matters worse I am constantly going up and down the ladder as if I am training for some kind of sport. I feel the muscles in my legs tighten.

It would be much easier if I had someone to help me lift the books.

Wiping off the light sheet of sweat that's gathered against my brow, I take down more books, careful to step down from the ladder without breaking my neck.

It is because I am fragile, and unlike other wolves, I do not have a thick skull to aid me.

Breaking my neck is very much possible while doing such a trivial task. I am embarrassed just thinking that dying like that was a possibility for me.

Walking through lines, Diane flew ahead of me.

I make my way back to the master's table, where I place the books once more. I have filled the table with books, thanks to my many, many rounds, but still, I have left an area untouched.

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