Realm of Dragons

The library was one of the largest outside of the House of Knowledge, with shelf after shelf of tomes stacked high, copied by the finest hands of the scholars, or by the monks of the Isle of Leveros. There were works here that dated back before the division of the kingdoms, and Greave found that it was the only place in which he felt truly at home.

He started to read through Brother Marcus’s Quotations on a Forthright Life, since the long dead monk was considered an authority, and since Greave had made it his mission to read through the entire contents of the library, but he found that he couldn’t get very far before his thoughts raised natural objections.

“‘A good man is upright and willing to trust others,’” he read, then shook his head. “But what if the people he trusts are not worthy of it, or betray him? And this… ‘a man should strive for hope in all things.’ Was he not looking at the world when he wrote this?”

Greave set the book aside and turned to LeNere’s On the Machinations of Government, long derided by the House of Knowledge as simply a defense of evil actions. Greave could see that, and he could certainly never imagine the destruction of entire families that the man seemed to argue for, but there were passages that simply seemed to speak to him.

“‘The world is a bleak, cruel place,’” he read, “‘and a man involved at court must recognize the truth of this. To imagine it happier, to trust or to be kind to one’s enemies, is not a virtue, but a vice, for one with power must protect the lives of those he serves by any means.’”

Was serves the right word? Did LeNere truly conceive of rulers as serving those they ruled? Perhaps Greave would write something on it and send it to the House of Scholars to prove how much he deserved to be there, or perhaps he would write a play where a ruler who truly believed that was taken advantage of by his entire court…

“Greave? Are you going to miss all of the celebrations?”

He turned at the sound of Nerra’s voice, standing and going to hug his sister. There was always something so delicate and fragile about Nerra that it almost made his heart break.

“I’m hardly the best at them,” he said.

“Because you don’t get enough practice,” she replied. “I’m sure there will be any number of beautiful noblewomen down there. Perhaps you could dance with one.”

Greave shook his head. He couldn’t imagine them being interested in him. Couldn’t imagine anyone seeing him as something other than an impediment to their happiness. “What about you?” he asked. “You look like you’ve been out in the forest again.”

“I have,” Nerra said. “It’s the only place I can be and not worry about people watching me.”

“You had your sleeves up?” Greave asked, suddenly worried. He knew about his sister’s condition, knew enough to know that people would call for Nerra’s death if they found out.

“It’s fine,” Nerra said. “I’m fine…”

“You don’t sound certain,” Greave said.

“I… had a fainting fit,” Nerra said.

“Another?” Greave shook his head. He was sure they were getting closer together. “You see, that’s another reason for me not to go down to the party. I need to stay here and look through more of the books in case there’s a cure for you.”

“Don’t you think someone would have found it if it were here to find?” Nerra countered. “You’re just trying to get out of dancing.”

“So you’ll be running straight down to the hall?” Greave countered. They both knew she wouldn’t. That many people always raised too many risks of someone seeing the scale sickness on her arms.

“I need to find Physicker Jarran,” Nerra said. “I… need to discuss some things with him.”

“About your condition?” Of course it was. The healer was one of the only ones outside the family who knew about Nerra’s sickness. He was also the only one who had been able to so much as slow it. But even he didn’t have a cure.

“Promise me you won’t spend all your time here?” Nerra said. “Lenore would love to see you down there, I’m sure.”

“I’ll try,” Greave promised, although he knew he wouldn’t make it. He had too many books to get through.

***

It seemed to Greave that a man could read for a lifetime and not find what he needed in the castle’s library.

“I will find it, though,” Greave promised himself. He knew he had not always been the best brother, but in this, he would not fail his sister.

He plunged into the stacks, hunting for medical tomes the way Rodry might go into a forest after a boar. Greave set aside works on the higher forms of philosophy, on the correct way to cut a canal system, on the supposed foundations of magic, looking only for something that promised the secret workings of the body. Greave half-remembered a text with a green cover by the ancient physician Velius, and set about searching.

Of course, there were many green covers in the library, but Greave worked his way through them, one by one, setting aside a tome showing a sword master’s techniques, a work on the design of the bridges so vital for Royalsport.

Come on, he willed himself. Remember the title. Remember.

Then suddenly, as he poured through books, it came to him:

On The Body.

Greave shouted aloud in delight, thrilled it came back to him. A slim, green volume.

Yet recalling the title was not, he knew, the same as having the book itself. Surely, it must be in here somewhere?

With even greater urgency, Greave poured through stacks of books.

“It has to be here,” he said. “It has to be here.”

“What has to be?” a woman’s voice asked.

Greave looked up and instantly froze. The young woman who stood before him was as close to perfect as he had ever seen. She had to be around his age, slender and red-haired, with green eyes that seemed to be questioning the world around her with every glance. She wore a dress of grays and silvers that she somehow managed to make look anything but ordinary, and her smile… her smile was the most beautiful thing Greave had seen. The jewelry she wore suggested that she was noble born, for who else could afford so many gold and silver rings and chains? She had a ribbon of the same silver twined into her hair, the end of it spilling down over her shoulder.

“I… I’m looking for a book,” Greave managed, remembering to breathe. “I’m sorry, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for you,” she said. Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her, seeming to sing with the notes of the country far beyond the city. “My name is Aurelle Hardacre.”

Greave recognized the name of a minor noble family at once, but he still couldn’t fathom the rest of her presence.

“You’re looking for me?” he said. It made no sense.

“Where my family has its estate, they sing songs about the beautiful prince who sits in his library, wrapped in sorrow,” Aurelle said. She glanced away for a moment. “You sounded too good to be true, yet here you are.”

Too good to be true? Greave didn’t know about that. He knew that some people found his features attractive, but he’d never been ruggedly handsome in the same way his brothers were, and anyone who did like him quickly drifted away once they learned about the true him.

“Shall I help you to pick some of those up?” Aurelle asked, moving to assist Greave in lifting the books that he’d scattered so far in his search.

“No, you don’t have to, it’s all right,” he managed. How could the presence of a woman he’d only just met make him feel as if the world were tilting this way and that? It made no sense.

“I want to help,” Aurelle said. “Oh look! A copy of Francesca di Vere’s love poems! They’re so beautiful, aren’t they?”

Greave wanted to say that none of them was as beautiful as her, but he didn’t have the words for it. “I haven’t read them,” he managed instead. It occurred to him that this was a chance to learn something about her. “Are you here for the wedding?”

“I am,” Aurelle said. “My family is just important enough to be invited. Although I’m quite lost here. The castle is far larger than I expected, and as for the city…”

“Perhaps I could show you around,” Greave blurted, even though he hadn’t meant to do it. Even though he had so many more important things that he should be doing.

“I’d like that,” Aurelle said. She held out her arm. “Now? Since you’ve finished looking for your book, I mean?”