Chapter 12: Seri

Seri

The library was warmer than the rest of the castle.

Not just in temperature, but in the way the space held itself. The moment I stepped inside, the air shifted—quieter, softer, like the room absorbed sound instead of carrying it.

Maeve guided me a few steps farther in before I stopped completely.

It was… stunning.

The ceilings rose higher than the ones in my room, supported by dark wooden beams carved with intricate patterns that twisted and looped into themselves. Celtic knots wound along the edges, weaving into shapes that took a second to recognize—waves, seals, curling lines that mimicked the movement of water.

Everywhere I looked, there was detail.

The shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with books that looked far older than anything I’d ever handled. The spines were worn, some faded, others embossed with symbols instead of words. The smell hit me next—paper, salt, something faintly herbal beneath it all.

And the light.

Large windows lined the outer wall, the glass thicker than what I was used to, slightly imperfect. Sunlight poured through them in angled beams, breaking as it passed through the panes, scattering soft fragments of color across the floor.

Rainbows.

Not bright or overwhelming, but subtle, thin streaks of gold and violet that shifted as the light moved.

For a moment, I forgot why I was here.

Maeve’s hand steadied me again.

“Come,” she said softly. “You should sit.”

I nodded, letting her guide me deeper into the room.

She led me toward a chair set near one of the windows.

It was upholstered in a deep, rich purple, the fabric plush and soft-looking, framed by dark wood carved with the same knotwork I’d seen along the walls. Small seals were worked into the design, their shapes hidden within the curves unless you looked closely.

“Here,” she said, helping me lower into it.

The moment I sank back, I understood why she chose it.

It was comfortable in a way that made it hard to move again. Supportive without being stiff, soft without losing structure. The kind of chair someone could spend hours in without noticing time passing.

“This is perfect,” I said quietly.

Maeve smiled.

“It's your favorite spot in the castle.”

I glanced around again, slower this time.

“This is… incredible.”

“You’ve always loved it here,” she said.

That word again.

Always.

I nodded, like it fit.

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I can see why.”

She adjusted the edge of my skirt absently, still watching me with that same careful attention.

“I’ll bring you some tea,” she said. “And something small to eat.”

“That sounds really good.”

She hesitated for half a second, glancing toward the doorway.

“He’ll stay,” she added.

“I figured,” I said.

She gave a small, apologetic smile.

“Just rest. I’ll be right back.”

Then she turned and walked toward the door.

I watched her go, the soft sound of her steps fading as she disappeared into the corridor.

I didn’t look at him right away.

Instead, I let my attention drift back to the shelves.

Books.

Information.

Answers, maybe.

I leaned forward slightly, reaching toward the nearest stack set on a low table beside the chair.

The movement pulled gently at my shoulder, but it held.

I picked up the top book.

The cover was worn smooth, the edges softened with age. There were markings along the spine, but not in any language I recognized.

I turned it in my hands, studying it.

Then I opened it.

The pages inside were just as unfamiliar.

The same symbols repeated across the lines, flowing together in a way that suggested structure, but not one I could understand.

Okay… not helpful.

I let out a small breath and reached for another.

As I did, something caught my attention.

My hand.

I froze.

For a second, I just stared at it.

The skin looked—

Wrong.

Or maybe right.

The color had shifted.

The pale tone I had seen in the mirror, the one that belonged to her, wasn’t there anymore. Instead, it was warmer. Deeper. Familiar in a way that made my stomach drop.

My skin.

I turned my hand slightly, watching the way the light hit it.

The difference was subtle.

Small enough that someone might not notice unless they were looking for it.

But I noticed.

What—

I glanced up immediately, scanning the room to make sure he didn't notice.

He was standing near the entrance.

I couldn’t tell if he had seen anything.

His expression hadn’t changed, but that didn’t mean anything.

Did he see that?

My heart started to pick up again.

I looked back down at my hand.

The color shifted again.

Slowly, like it was correcting itself, returning to the pale tone I had grown used to seeing.

I swallowed.

Maybe I imagined it.

Maybe it was the light.

The way the sun broke through the glass—

Yeah. That’s it.

It had to be.

I closed the book carefully and set it back down.

You’re already dealing with enough. Don’t start making things up.

I leaned back into the chair, pressing my hands lightly against the fabric, grounding myself in something solid.

The quiet settled around me again.

I let out a slow breath.

Then, because I couldn’t help it—

I looked up.

Our eyes met almost immediately.

He hadn’t moved.

He was just... watching.

Not in a way that felt intrusive, but not distant either.

Like he was paying attention to everything, whether I noticed or not.

I held his gaze for a second longer than I meant to.

Then looked away, my focus dropping back to the books in front of me.

This is fine.

I reached for another book, this time more carefully, watching my hand as I did.

The skin stayed the same.

Pale.

Unfamiliar.

Like nothing had happened.

Good.

That was good.

I opened the book again, even though I already knew I wouldn’t understand it.

It gave me something to do, something to focus on.

Because if I thought too hard about what I had just seen—

I wasn’t sure I’d like where that led.

The door opened softly behind him.

I looked up instinctively.

Maeve stepped back inside, carrying a small tray.

“Here we are,” she said lightly. “Tea, and something sweet.”

She moved toward me, setting it down on the table beside the chair.

The scent of herbs and something warm filled the space.

“Thank you.”

Maeve smiled, then glanced back toward the doorway.

“Caiden,” she said, her tone shifting slightly, more formal now. “You can relax a moment. She’s settled.”

Caiden.

The name settled into place immediately.

He gave a small nod in response, but didn’t move from his position.

Didn’t step away.

Didn’t leave.

Of course he didn’t.

I looked back down at the tea, wrapping my hands around the cup as the warmth seeped into my fingers.

Grounding.

Steady.

Because whatever was happening—

Whatever I had just seen—

I was going to need to keep it together.

At least long enough to figure out what it meant.