Chapter Five — The Hidden Library

The palace library was a labyrinth of shelves and shadows, a place Elias had discovered only by accident. Few came here anymore; the court preferred its intrigues to the silence of books. Yet tonight, a faint glow of candlelight spilled across the floor.

Elias paused at the threshold. Someone was within.

“Are you going to stand there all evening,” came a low voice, “or will you join me?”

Adrian.

Elias stepped inside, bowing instinctively. “Your Highness. I did not mean to intrude.”

Adrian sat at a long oak table, a single candle illuminating the curve of his cheek, the sharp lines of his profile. Scrolls lay scattered before him, though his attention seemed elsewhere.

“You are not intruding,” Adrian said. “You are the only one who has found me here.”

Elias moved closer, his boots soft against the carpet. “If I may ask… why here?”

“Because it is forgotten.” Adrian’s fingers brushed across the page of an old chronicle, though he did not seem to be reading. “In these halls, no councilors demand heirs. No nobles weigh my worth in coin and land. Here, I can be… no one.”

Elias hesitated, then spoke softly. “You are never no one, Your Highness.”

Adrian’s gaze lifted sharply, catching his. For a heartbeat, the candlelight between them seemed the only thing in the world.

“You speak as though you know me,” Adrian murmured.

“I am learning,” Elias admitted, his voice lower than he intended.

The silence that followed was thick, charged, as if even the books themselves leaned closer to listen. Elias felt the weight of his words, the recklessness of them, but he could not look away.

Adrian rose from his chair, moving slowly, deliberately. He stopped mere paces from Elias, close enough that the warmth of his presence brushed against him like a flame.

“You are bold, Lord Varrow,” the prince said softly. “Bold enough to stand here, bold enough to speak of loyalty and desire as if the walls do not listen.”

Elias’s throat tightened. “If the walls listened, they would know I speak only truth.”

Adrian’s eyes flickered, something raw and dangerous stirring in their depths. For one suspended moment, Elias thought—no, he felt—the world tilt toward something inevitable.

Then the sound of laughter rang in the corridor. Footsteps approached, careless and close.

Adrian caught Elias’s arm and pulled him into the shadow between two shelves. The prince’s hand was firm, his breath steady against Elias’s ear as the voices drew nearer.

Two nobles passed by, their words indistinct, their laughter fading down the hall. Elias did not breathe until silence returned. Only then did he realize how close they stood—Adrian’s hand still on his arm, his cloak brushing Elias’s shoulder, the faint scent of leather and cedar filling the space between them.

“Your Highness…” Elias whispered.

Adrian’s grip lingered a moment longer before he released him, stepping back. His face was composed once more, but his voice was low, almost rough.

“You see why boldness is dangerous.”

“Yes,” Elias said, though his heart still raced, “but sometimes… danger is worth the truth.”

For the first time, Adrian’s mask cracked. A quiet laugh escaped him—not mocking, but weary, almost disbelieving.

“You test me, Elias,” he murmured, his gaze lingering, softer now. “And yet… I cannot seem to turn you away.”

The candle guttered, throwing shadows across the prince’s face. Whatever might have followed was swallowed by silence, each man unwilling—or unable—to take the final step.

At last, Adrian turned back to the table, his voice once more steady, princely. “Go. Before the library remembers it belongs to others.”

Elias bowed, though his thoughts were a storm. As he left, he could still feel the imprint of the prince’s hand on his arm, a phantom weight he would not soon forget.

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