Heart of Stone

2. Books Are Treasures

He raised his eyebrows. "Would you like me to show you?"

She grinned. "That would be very kind of you."

He managed a smile and steadied the last pile of papers on his desk. He left his cloak on the chair and gestured towards the winding staircase next to the doors. "Then follow me, my lady."

Thistle hurried to keep up with his large paces as they descended the staircase, a slight frown on her face. "I'm no lady."

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Every woman is a lady."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She looked away and frowned, a blush heating her cheeks, making him chuckle. She followed him down several floors of deserted hallways and one with a study much like the one under the dome, but with more desks.

The staircase ended abruptly and opened into an large, ornate room that two entire floors. It was a library. Bookshelves lined the round walls and an old chandelier hung from the middle of the vaulted ceiling, its candles reduced to useless stumps. The dust hung heavy in the stale air and Thistle held a hand over her nose.

She made a face. "Can't you open a window in here?"

He folded one hand behind his back and strolled towards the nearest bookshelf, his long fingers running over the books in a gentle caress. "I could, but I fear the draught or moist might damage the books. Many of these volumes are hundreds of years old. Priceless treasures. I cannot bear the thought of ruining them."

Thistle followed him into the room, looking over the dusty bookshelves. There had to be hundreds of books in the room, worth a small fortune in parchment alone. She sighed. She hated reading.

Desks and armchairs occupied the middle of the circular library, most covered in a layer of dust. On the other end of the room stood an immense fireplace of stone and wrought metal, two elegant staircases on either side, leading to the balcony that held the upper half of the bookshelves. She could see that, once, the library had been a beautiful, lavish room, but what remained was only a shadow of its former glory.

"Are you looking for something in particular? Perhaps I can be of service."

She hesitated. "No, I was just curious."

He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows, a slight smile dancing over his lips. He tapped the bookshelf on his right. "The books about magic are over here."

Thistle flushed crimson. She strode towards the large fireplace and grabbed some blocks of dry firewood, keeping her face away from him. "How did you know?"

"Why does anyone ever come here?"

She remained silent as threw the blocks in the fireplace and searched for a tinderbox. Of course, everyone came here to slay the beast and take its treasure. Everyone, except for him.

"Here," he said, his deep voice next to her as he handed her a metal tinderbox. "Are you hungry?"

She turned to give him a curious look, finding his blue eyes on her. "Why are you helping me?"

His mouth twitched into a sad, fleeting smile as he clasped his hands behind his back, watching the empty fireplace. His reddish brown hair fell over his face. "It is rare for me to have company."

Thistle glanced up at him, waiting for him to continue, but he simply stared at the hearth. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. His gaze snapped up to her, surprise on his face. He looked down at her hand and smiled, a real, gentle smile that warmed his blue eyes.

He sighed and straightened his back. "Well then, would you care for breakfast?"

♥

Thistle slammed the book shut and threw it on her growing pile of useless volumes. She rubbed her fingers against her temples, watching the flame on her candle dance. This was going nowhere. Three days of struggling through the most promising titles had gotten her nothing but ancient reports on petrification spells. She was running out of time.