“In Thayaria, females are valued for more than their childbearing. Many female fae choose to stay unmarried.” Genevieve looks at me like I’ve grown two heads, and I laugh. “It’s true. We even let females and human women serve as soldiers or Royal Guards.” Her expression is incredulous.

“I enjoy my life as a librarian…” she says slowly. “But I’ve always wondered, if other opportunities had been available to me…” she trails off, not willing to say the words aloud. It breaks my heart a little. Genevieve is clearly someone with a deep well of energy and intelligence, two traits that would have opened many doors for her in Thayaria. “Do you enjoy being an ambassador?” she asks, though I get the sense it’s not to change the subject, but to simply continue the conversation.

I consider my answer for a moment. “I don’t know that I’m serving as a true ambassador. I’ve spent almost all of my time in the archives, which I love. I’m enjoying whatever it is I’m doing here in Velmara,” I answer honestly, and she laughs, a bright and almost chirping melody.

“That’s good, then. And the archives are wonderful.” We settle once again into companionable silence as we follow the winding labyrinth of the path.

As we walk, we occasionally bump into one another, one or both of us unable to walk in a straight line. Every time our hands or arms brush, a warm tingling sensation gathers low in my belly. I’m lusting after this cheery, bright, and open female. I’m not one to shy away from my sexuality, but here in Velmara, where roles for women are so dictated by society, I don’t dare pursue it. Even if she were interested—which is very unlikely, considering the way Velmara frowns upon relationships between females—it would put her in danger. And the thought of that is intolerable to me.

So we continue walking, chatting pleasantly about some of our favorite books and places in the archives. I tell her more about Thayaria, about the way the landscape is covered in foliage and so unlike Velmara. She listens with rapt attention, filing the information away, her mind a natural fit for the life of a scholar. Despite my earlier curiosity about her notes on Mazus’s book, I forget about them, caught up in the fast friendship forming between us. If I’m honest with myself, it’s refreshing to have companionship after so many weeks alone.

When the sky is inky black, we finally head back inside the palace. “Thank you for walking with me,” Genevieve says with a gentle smile that’s soothing. She radiates calming energy effortlessly, a balm to my weathered soul.

“Thank you for inviting me.” My words are quiet and slow, so unlike me.