Page 62 of A Yulean Sister’s Guide to Getting Kidnapped

“I’m looking for children’s stories,” I said. “Classics if you have them.”

Her eyes went back to her book. For a minute, I thought she wasn’t going to help me at all.

“Towards the back, turn left, turn left again once you hit Overgrown Vegetables for Knighting Ceremonies, then go up four rows to Ironworkers Guide to Welding, and then turn right. Should be right there. If you hit the Homemade Caskets section you’ve gone too far.”

I stood and blinked at her, those directions leaving my brain as soon as they entered. Though she didn’t look up, she read my non movement as the confusion it was.

She huffed in irritation, like anyone should be able to simply find their way, before waving her hand. A magestone ring sat on her finger, lighting up and helping her conduct magic.

A small ball of light appeared in front of me, level with my chest. “Follow the ball. It’ll fizzle when you get to where you’re going.”

“Thank yo⁠—”

I couldn’t even finish thanking her before the light started moving and I had to almost run to catch up.

After far too many turns and almost losing it completely, I stopped in front of a shelf and it poofed out of existence. I looked up at the plaque denoting the section. Children’s Classic Fables.

Perfect.

I began looking through the spines. Shadowhart hadn’t been too specific about what I was looking for, but I tried to keep my eye out for ocean themed stories or tales from the sea, since that’s where I got the blasted necklace.

My fingers fiddled with it absently as I pulled and examined books from the shelf. I had a pretty decent stack when I was done. There were a few that showed real promise, and a few that just caught my eye for one reason or another. My plan was to grab my stack and head back, but I knew there was no way I’d find my way back as easily as I found my way here, so I took a break, deciding Shadowhart would come looking for me sooner or later.

Or my bones in the library theory would prove correct.

I picked up one, Short Stories On Long Ship Rides, and began flipping through its pages. My dress pooled around me as I sat on the floor in front of the shelves. The book rested in front of me as I began reading.

The first story was about a boy who was stranded on an island and built his own ship after many trials and tribulations. Until he finally sailed off, trying to find his way home.

I was just to the part where he ended up in a raging storm, when the light above me went dim. Looking up to see the cause, Shadowhart loomed over me.

“I thought you’d find me,” I said.

“You were supposed to be back in an hour,” he said.

I shrugged. “There’s no clocks, and this place is a maze.”

“You get to know it,” he said, reaching his hand out to help lift me up.

His hand was warm and rough, hardened by years of hard work. He probably didn’t think the same of my hands. They’re soft and pliable, never knowing a day of real work.

He helped me up and I pressed down my skirts.

“Find anything?” he asked gruffly.

“A couple of books I thought could help. You guys?”

“Bramwell spotted a few we took. Sorting books isn’t my strong suit.”

I hummed. “I don’t believe that. You seem to be good at everything.”

He snorted as we began to walk back. “Far from it. I just have an excellent team that makes up for everything I lack.”

I glanced his way. He was so unlike any leader I’d ever met. Though every duke and lord, even my mothers, had a council they referred to, when given such praise they would just take the thank you. But he was always the first to credit the people around him.

It took Shadowhart much less time to navigate the shelves than it took me, and soon we were back in the atrium, where Bramwell stood with books piled high in his hands, the bags at his feet and the plant I bought sitting on top.

Shadowhart took my things, but with both of them carrying everything, I insisted on taking something. He lowered the vazlaire into my arms.