Bastian stopped her with his hand on her arm. “Don’t let Lorian find out, Kerrigan.” Kerrigan shivered at the words. “He is your strongest detractor and will do anything to get you removed from your position. Helly and I can only do so much if he sways the rest of the council.”

Kerrigan gulped and nodded. “Thank you for the warning, sir.”

He patted her shoulder. “Good girl. Now, run off with your friends. I remember my own training and having very little time to relax. Zahina’s absence should free you up for the evening.”

She thanked him and then hurried away. She thought about finding the others for cake, which sounded delicious right now, but her head was buzzing about the protest and Bastian finding out. How much she didn’t want Lorian to find out. And instead, she found herself in front of the library.

The massive oak double doors were open to reveal the stacks beyond. Rows and rows and rows filled with parchment and thick, musty books. The librarian was a stodgy, old Fae male who was a steward like Valia but treated everyone as if they were beneath him. She didn’t mind him that much. She could deal with his ill humor when she was surrounded by the books. The smell of parchment and the feel of endless memory all in one place. It was enough to make her want to skip through the halls.

She bypassed the librarian and searched for Fordham. A part of her felt more connected to him than her dragon. She couldn’t feel a bond with Tieran at this distance, but something about Fordham pulled her to his hiding spot before she ever knew he was there. He scratched out a verse on a piece of parchment. Several had already been discarded next to him, likely burned to ash later if he hated them that much. Her sad, broody prince writing his sad, broody poetry. The only thing he kept entirely to himself. She’d read a sliver of it once and immediately felt as if she was invading his privacy. She’d do anything to know what was on that paper. What he wrote about when he thought no one else was watching.

“There you are,” she said finally.

Fordham startled. He shoved the paper under a book half the size of the large oak table. The poetry vanishing that quickly. “Kerrigan, you found me.”

“Indeed.”

“What did Bastian want?”

Kerrigan sighed heavily and plopped down in the seat next to him. She hadn’t even planned to come see him. They had barely seen each other outside of classes. They were careful and professional and not at all what she actually wanted from him. But in this moment, she wanted her friend.

“I know that look. What did you do now?” he asked.