The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)

37. Needs and Wants

Chapter thirty-seven

Needs and Wants

S olveig spent most of the morning traipsing up and down ladders with every few books she found, holding titles that seemed promising. Prince Emmerich, however, utilised his magic to help himself and Wrenn float their picks down to the tables on a gentle breeze.

An hour of searching passed, and they each had four stacks of books. Solveig summoned lunch to the library as they tirelessly combed through each tome by the flickering firelight. Hoping they would find anything that might explain what was happening to the magic. A reason why some people were dying when others were simply losing their powers, and if there was anything they could do to stop or reverse it.

Lunch arrived, bringing with it a welcome reprieve from their fruitless search. The library hands brought them tender salted pork on soft white rolls with butter and applesauce from the city markets. And a flagon each, filled to the brim with steaming winter punch. Their bellies full and souls warmed a touch, Solveig moved to grab another book from her stack, when Emmerich released an annoyed sigh.

“Out with it, Prince,” she muttered, flicking the page, “I’m no mind reader and if I wanted to see amateur dramatics, I’d head to the theatre.”

“Cute,” he quipped, placing his book down on the table.

“If you’re giving up, say the word there are far better things I could do with my time than sit in a dusty library with the two of you all day.”

“Desperate to get back to Luxenal, Princess?” Emmerich snapped. “I’m sure there is a long line of prisoners waiting to feel the bite of your blades by now.”

Solveig’s gaze darkened, her grip turning white around the book as she closed it, moving to stand as Wrenn Bleeker did the same, sensing the threat.

“Can you stop sniping at each other for more than a couple of hours?” Wrenn sighed.

“Tell your prince to watch his mouth, or he’ll be sailing home in a coffin leaving his kingdom heirless.”

Wrenn and Emmerich shared a look, neither of them speaking.

“What?” Solveig hissed; eyes narrowed as they flicked between the pair.

“Nothing,” they said in unison. Suspicion roiled in Solveig’s gut. They were hiding something, that much was obvious. Solveig knew she should dig for the information, to keep her parents from getting suspicious, but right then, she’d rather a stack of books fell on her head.

“I’m going for more books. When you two idiots decide you want to get back to work, let me know.”

Emmerich watched as she walked away, her hips and ponytail swaying in unison. He watched as she gripped a railing and made light work of pulling herself up to the second level with smooth feline grace. He kept watching until he felt someone smack something across the back of his head, a little too forcefully.

“Focus,” Wrenn hissed. “You can watch, but you can’t touch. That girl is bad news.”

The prince blinked, steeling his face. “As if I could forget,” he said nonchalantly, “she’s still under suspicion for murder after all.”

“Yeah,” Wrenn said, with wide eyes, mouth twisted in a knowing smile, “better send the message to your eyes then. They were far too preoccupied with her arse.”

“Fuck off.” Emmerich swung a book at Wrenn. Downing the last of his winter punch, he muttered, “next time let’s have them bring that stuff spiked. I could do with the kick right now.”

“Spiked punch is the last thing you need to be drinking around her.”

Emmerich threw Wrenn a glare, shoving a book across the table at her. “Read that and make any notes on mentions of The Oracle and their power.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think they have something to do with this?”

“That thing has invaded every part of their lives. They worship it for the power it’s given them, and the power it’s taken away. It cannot be both things, so read.”

“You got it, Captain.”

Another hour passed before either of them resurfaced from their chosen books, and Solveig still hadn’t returned.

“Look…” Wrenn hedged, “maybe you should go make peace with her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Before you consider whacking me again or shipping me back off to Elithiend with orders to do grunt work as punishment, hear me out, okay?”

Emmerich placed his heavy leather-bound tome back on the table next to him, crossed his arms over his chest, one brow raised expectantly. “I’m listening.”

“You said yourself whatever is going on here has something to do with The Oracle, right?”

“Right.”

“And she said that certain sections of the library aren’t open to the public, which means there are books in this library that they don’t want common folk seeing. Books that are important enough to send an allied prince to a prison camp for.”

“You think the book they caught Malik Etana with is the same one we need?”

“Possibly. And if it isn’t, I’d be willing to bet we’d find it in the same area. Areas that only she has access to…” They both turned to look in the princess’s general direction.

“You don’t have to trust her, but you do need to get her to trust you. Do you honestly think she’s going to share everything she’s reading in those books? No, you need to read them with her. And the only way to do that, my dear Prince, is to go make peace.”

“If I die, it’s on you.”

“Give her something. Make it appear as though you’re being open with her and maybe she’ll return the favour.”

“If I have to go play buddies with a murderer, you can clean this mess up.” The prince said, gesturing to the book strewn table before them.

“Sure thing. Just maybe don’t call her a murderer to her face.”

“Whatever.”

Emmerich found the princess sat cross-legged, leaning against a dusty shelf rammed tight with old books and sheets of parchment.

“You shouldn’t be here, Prince. Thought I made that obvious,” she said, without looking up from what she was reading.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“We’re supposed to be working together on this.”

“These books aren’t for your eyes. If I find anything I think you need to see, I’ll let you know. You can go back to your friend now, so she knows I didn’t add you to my kill list.”

“Actually,” he hedged. Solveig looked up at him, her green eyes shadowed by the dark surroundings. “I thought we could take a break.” Still, she didn’t respond. “I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. You’re taking time out of your day to help me, and all I’ve done is insult you and remind you of the mistakes you’ve made.”

Solveig’s gaze shuttered immediately, clueing him in that he had said the wrong thing already. Her eyes swung back to the book in her lap as she spoke.

“Who said I’ve made mistakes, Prince? They made a choice for me. And I have lived with it the only way I knew how. No more, no less. I won’t apologise to you or anyone else for what I had to do to survive. False platitudes help no one.”

“For fuck’s sake, woman, would you put the bloody book down and look at me?”

“Excuse me?” She jerked her head back, blinking up at him.

“Before you go reaching for one of those pointy daggers you’re fond of, will you hear me out?”

“By all means,” she said with narrowed eyes as he sat across from her, the tight space between the shelves forcing their knees to touch.

“Your family graciously allowed me access to your kingdom to do research, and at every turn, I have belittled, laughed, or argued about everything. I’ve judged you for making the choices you had to make to survive. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Remember what I said about false platitudes, Prince,” she said, gaze probing his.

“I’m not trying to placate you. It’s true. Whatever you did before. I’ve no reason to judge you for it now. Multiple times you tried to get me to accept help with my arm. Help me strengthen my weakness that you pointed out within seconds of watching me, when everyone else I’ve surrounded myself with kept quiet.”

“What happened?” she pressed.

“There was a shipwreck. My powers had barely manifested when a typhoon hit. I wasn’t strong enough to control it. Many died. I suffered severe nerve damage and walked away with a pretty scar on my head, to boot. But I lived.” Tears brimmed around the edge of the prince’s eyes.

“Healers couldn’t do anything to repair the damage?”

“They didn’t find me for days. By then, the work they did was the best I could hope for.”

“That’s why you kept shutting down, isn’t it? You know you’ll never regain full strength in that arm.”

“Partially. But also, because I’m a prince of the realm, I’m supposed to be formidable. The Dark Prince, that’s what your people call me, right?” Solveig nodded. “A prince capable of wielding a sword with only one hand suddenly doesn’t sound formidable. He sounds entirely beatable.”

“You are beatable. I’ve done it twice now.” She smirked. Emmerich’s head dropped, shaking slightly.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pick at people’s deepest hurts to ward them off when they’re getting too close.”

“You’re the one laying all your weaknesses at the feet of your enemy.” The book slid from Solveig’s lap as she knelt, leaning into the prince’s space. So close that the scent of him masked the scent of aged books and ink.

She watched him with the keen eye of a hunter, the bob of his throat, his shallow breaths and slow blinking eyes. And he watched her, as she raised a dagger to lift his curls away from his forehead, revealing the scar there.

“It would be so easy,” she murmured. “To take you out. You wouldn’t even have the chance to scream.”

Emmerich’s hand shot out, grasping the wrist where she held the dagger perilously close to his skin, he felt her pulse flutter beneath his fingers. As their gazes held each other.

“Then teach me how to be better. Stronger.”

Solveig only laughed. “What kind of predator would I be if I taught you how to defeat me?” She pulled her arm from his grip, trailing the flat side of her dagger across his neck, then lower down the front of his shirt. Before leaning in closer, lips at his ear.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to make me bend and break. I spent two years in a prison camp. I learned how to play games with the best of them.”

“Who said I’m playing games?” Emmerich swallowed, blinking furiously to clear the haze from his mind at her proximity.

“You told me your sad story and what you thought I’d spill my guts to you in return? Like some babbling fool, desperate for attention until she breaks at the smallest touch of it?”

“I think you’re starved of kindness. Of warmth. Not attention, the Reaper stirs enough of that for you already.”

She laughed. “You think you’ll be the one to show me kindness?”

“I could be. If you let me. If you let go of those walls, you’re so desperately clinging to.”

“I don’t want your kindness.”

“Who said anything about want? Needs and wants are two different things.”

“And what do you want, Prince?”

“To earn your trust.”

Solveig sat staring at him for a moment, puzzling over how to respond. Their gazes holding, when Emmerich moved into a kneeling position too, so close now that they almost touched.

“I want you to be honest with yourself,” he whispered. “Even for a moment.”

“I—” Solveig began, but the spell he held her under shattered with the heavy echo of Wrenn Bleeker’s approaching footsteps.

Solveig and Emmerich jumped away from each other as though burned. Sat as they were, they both smacked hard into the bookcases at their backs, desperately trying to hold back the wince of pain as Wrenn rounded the corner.

“You could do with getting someone to blow some clean air through the dust up here.” Wrenn joked. Her sharp eyes landed on the pair.

“There are hundreds of years of history on these shelves. You cause even a speck of damage, and I won’t allow you within a mile of this place again,” Solveig seethed.

“Interesting,”

“What is?”

“Damaging a thousand-year-old piece of parchment carries a much lighter sentence than merely stealing it.” Solveig froze. “Guess I should return this book I slipped into my jacket. Wouldn’t want to be shipped off to the mines now, would I?”

Emmerich stared at his friend. Not even half an hour ago, she lectured him about playing nice with the princess. And yet here she was, riling her up again.

“Out of curiosity, what type of book would it take to get me sent to the mines?”

A look of death crossed Solveig’s gaze as she made to retrieve her dagger, but Emmerich was faster this time, catching her arm with his hand.

“Wrenn’s an idiot. Ignore her.”

Solveig’s gaze pierced his as she shook her head. “Or maybe she’s more honest than you,” she spat through gritted teeth, wrenching her arm free before turning on the commander. “Not that the content of the book matters, commander, but it was a history of all known powers and their connection to the earth and The Oracle itself. They sentenced Malik to Luxenal because he took the book from Leader Ezekiel’s private library.”

“And?”

She took a step closer. “Even my father can’t enter Leader Ezekiel’s private library. If the King of Torrelin can’t. How would you deal with a foreign prince with an unknown agenda breaking not just into the library itself, but into a restricted area? Then attempting to walk out of there with a book on the same night his sibling attended a royal ball? Because if you ask me, the Etana family is lucky they only locked one of their children up that night. Adira’s saving grace was that they found no proof of them working together. And with Malik swearing that he acted alone, he faced the consequences alone, too.”

Solveig squared up to the commander, dagger twisting in her grip. “You got what you wanted,” she sneered, glancing between her and the prince. “I think it’s time we left.”

“Wait, please!” Emmerich called after her.

“No, I won’t wait. You’ve shown your true conniving colours today. I should applaud you for it, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel like it right now. Stay out of my sight for a few days if you know what’s good for you.”

Solveig pushed past the commander, storming down the stairs and straight out of the library, leaving them both behind. Emmerich looked at Wrenn.

“What was that?” he raged.

“I said play nice, not play lovers.”

“I was getting her to trust me, and you had to walk in and take us back to ground zero. She’s never gonna help us now.”

Wrenn shrugged. “She left that book behind and those notes.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. No one’s gonna find out. Aren’t you interested in knowing what the Dark Princess found important enough to make notes about?”

Emmerich warred with himself for a moment before sighing heavily, rubbing his temples. “Fine, but hurry before someone else sees.”

The commander slipped the stolen tome and notes beneath her jacket as they exited the library into the bitter evening air.