Cerid glared at Shark when they had all joined him at the top step. “Incorrigible. Simply incorrigible.”

“You love that word,” Shark laughed.

“Calla seems sweet,” Dorothea noted, mostly to save Cerid from his own embarrassment.

His chest puffed some with pride. “Indeed. I am glad that the war will be over before we have to consider training her to become a soldier.”

Dorothea’s heart squeezed. That was right. Even if she had her doubts, there were people who needed her to end this war as quickly as possible, just like she had promised from the beginning of her alliance with Sacer. There were people who could end up lost like Rhys or without a place like Ariana and Shark if they were put on the same path. “Of course,” she said softly.

The smile Cerid offered her was gentle, and it suited him. “Take heart. We may have inherited this war before we were prepared for the reality of the world, but we will come out on the other side to something brighter.”

She couldn’t imagine the full burden of it. “What a despicable inheritance…”

Cerid shook his head as if to say it was alright before gesturing to their left. The second floor had only two doors on that side, one small and one wide with swirling golden designs over it. Cerid gestured to the latter. “That is the library. First, however, proper manners dictate that you both should meet my father. Captain Tamlin, it, well, it may be best for you to go ahead.”

Rhys held his hands up and went to join Ariana in front of the library doors. “Sorry for not being eager to see your dad either, Cerid.”

“That is quite alright. No need to apologize,” Cerid called after him.

“He was being sarcastic, Cerid,” Shark explained.

“Oh?” He considered it, cheeks flushing as he strode forward. “I see now. Ahem. As we were. Father? May we come in?”

“Of course.” As the trio entered, Dorothea saw Cinder Creed with his head ducked over a book as he sat before a neatly organized desk. White and gold curtains were parted to let sunlight into the room, and the glimmer reflected in his eyes when he looked up. “Oh my…” Those piercing eyes met Dorothea’s, and he smiled genially. “You’ve brought a girl home of your own volition, Cerid. Fancy that. Welcome back to our home, Miss Atlin.”

Cerid swallowed, throat bobbing as if something was stuck there. “I simply wanted to greet you and let you know I have guests before we go to the library.”

Cinder smiled. “It’s much appreciated. Happy to see you as always.” He stood and shook Shark and Dorothea’s hands, and Dorothea was surprised by how rough and calloused his skin was, his sharp dressing and air of dignity having led her to expect him to be softer around the edges. “Cinder Creed. Pleasure to meet you both formally.”

Shark’s smile was forced. “Shark Olyen.”

Dorothea dipped her head. “You handled the last council meeting with grace, sir. It was much appreciated.”

He inspected her with interest. “I see. You’ll have to forgive me for being blunt, Miss Atlin. How would you feel about courting my son?”

Decorum was vital here. Cinder was a person she needed on her side so long as she hoped for a future alliance between Sacer and Sirpo.

Dorothea smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, sir. While your son is an amazing, hardworking and kind man, I fear I’m spoken for.”

He nodded, smiling back at her. “Unfortunate, but not unexpected.”

“Father, it has been absolutely wonderful to see you today,” Cerid barked, face redder than the blood of a beet. “Now if you will excuse us!” He yanked Dorothea and Shark from the room before slamming the door behind them.

“Is he always like that?” Shark muttered.

Cerid nodded, miserable. “I apologize, truly. It is simply that, well, he thinks of marriage and procreation as issues to be arranged for the sake of advantage. I am at the age where most noble children, and most Creeds in particular, are expected to…” He shook his head. “It is not relevant to our business at the moment.”

“It’s relevant to—” Shark protested.

“Please,” Cerid whispered. “Not here. Not now.”

Shark looked around before nodding. “Sorry, sorry…”

Cerid was deflated, slouching and tired in the eyes. “No, I apologize to the both of you. You must have been shocked.”

Dorothea patted his back. “Cerid, there’s no need for you to be sorry. None at all.” It made sense, albeit in a twisted fashion. No matter which magic their very hypothetical children inherited, they would be valuable as soldiers. It shouldn’t have been a surprise for there to be people in Sacer who saw it prudent to think in this way.

“Does that sort of thing happen a lot?” Shark asked, tentative.

“Indeed. As of late,” Cerid explained as he opened the wide doors of the library for them, “my father has been introducing me to many bachelorettes. It is not just me, of course, as a few of my other siblings are of courting age, but… I suppose that is neither here nor there.”

“Except it really is!” Shark exclaimed. “Shit, how did I not know that!”

Cerid’s brows knitted as he studied Shark’s face. “Are you angry?”

Shark shook their head and smiled. “No, no. I mean, not at you. Maybe I’m angry at, I don’t know, the circumstances. But that’s what we’re working for, isn’t it?”

Cerid smiled a sweet smile. “Indeed.”

“Should I give the two of you some time alone?” Dorothea joked, taking care to keep as quiet as they were. It was the ideal way to live life, though, wasn’t it, to have something so meaningful to work towards. She may as well join them in their fight. Would that be the right thing to do?

“Of course not!” Cerid barked. “That is…” He cleared his throat. “We are here for your sake, is that not correct? What kinds of texts are you looking for in particular?”

Right. Down to business. “Information about the Ghurians. Their culture, what they’re like. The relationship between Sacer and Ghuria historically. Lastly, about the Wither contract and the causes of the current war.”

Cerid nodded. “Ah, yes. It is good to be informed.” He narrowed his eyes in concentration, fingers drifting over spines. “Please allow me a few minutes. Feel free to wait at the tables. Simply walk straight.”

“I’ll help you,” Shark offered, taking the three texts that Cerid had already pulled into their arms. “You go on ahead, Thea.”

Understanding that Shark really wanted to spend a moment with Cerid alone, she acquiesced, trailing to the windows that formed almost the entire wall opposite the entrance. The color from the stained glass highlighted a woven white rug, creating a ripple of rainbows against pure snow. A vast table with a carving of a fantastical fairytale garden across its entire top was also highlighted in color. She ran her fingers over the indentations, smiling when she found a butterfly. Oh! There was a mouse, too, and a fox playing chummily with it. How adorable.

Ariana nodded to her from her place sitting in one of the corner seats, and Dorothea scrambled to think of a topic of conversation. Rhys sat on the opposite side with his back to her, already so lost in a book that it didn’t seem he’d noticed her approach. Smiling, she started to move towards him when an unfamiliar voice cut in from behind her.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?”

Dorothea squealed and spun around to come face to face with an elderly man as he drifted closer, leaning on a hand-carved, ornately designed cane. “Is this what Cerid will look like when he’s older?” she gasped, talking nonsense in her fright.

“He should be so lucky,” the man chortled. “But it’s good to see you again, Ophelia. You’ve grown right up! How’d you meet my grandson?”

Dorothea opened and closed her mouth dumbly as her heart skipped a beat. He’d called her Ophelia. Ophelia Atlin, her dead mother.

“Grandfather!” Cerid, flanked by Shark, came rushing out of the stacks, yelping as he almost dropped a tall pile of books in the process. “I apologize, Miss Dorothea. He is…forgetful.”

“No need to talk about me like I’m both senile and not here,” the man laughed.

“Ophelia Atlin is my mother, sir,” Dorothea offered, trying to be helpful. “My name is Dorothea, as Cerid says.”

“Ah. Well why didn’t you say that in the first place?” He smiled as Cerid groaned and let his head fall onto the books he was carrying. “I was right back in my younger days for a minute.”

“May I talk to you? About Ophelia,” Dorothea requested. She just had to hear more, no matter what.

“Of course!” The man stuck his tongue out at Cerid.

“I shall be off, then…” Cerid sighed. “Here.” He passed off the books to Dorothea, being sure she could handle their weight before slipping back into the shelves.

“Want us to leave you alone, Thea?” Shark asked, clearly interested and wanting to stick around.

“No, it’s fine.” It didn’t matter to her what was aired here for Shark and Rhys to hear, as they could be trusted. The topic seemed safe enough for Ariana to be around, too. All five of them were seated then, Dorothea pulling a chair out for Cerid’s grandfather and making sure he was comfortable. “May I ask your name, sir?” she asked as she slid into a chair between Rhys and Shark.

“Cadby Creed. Sorry for the confusion. You really are the spitting image of Ophelia.”

Dorothea’s cheeks reddened with pleasure. “Thank you… Um, I’m very curious. How did you know my mother?”