“You’re back earlier than expected.” ?nnywella says as she watches K?spar run his fingers along the spines of books in the Herst Castle Library.

  “Has that ever affected the quality of my work?” He responds, not looking away from his search. He was going to tell her once he found the book he is looking for.

  She raises her left eyebrow, looking up past it. “I can’t say it has. Though I would have expected you to come see me as soon as you returned. Yet, here you are... in the fiction section.” Her tone is slightly disappointed as she cranes her neck to look at the gilded alphabet range marker above them—wishing they would have put them lower. “What could possibly be more important in the H-I section than telling me the vital information I asked you for together?”

  “When is Sor?n getting back?” He moves further away as he continues looking, just in case her temper decides to rear its head. Both he and ?nnywella are well aware that K?spar is one of the few members of her staff that cannot be replaced—so the worst she can do in response to his teasing is to throw any book below the fifth shelf at him.

  “How is this relevant?” ?nnywella crosses her arms; she knows where this comment is leading. She cannot say she doesn’t find the story entertaining—as much as it was rather terrifying to her as it was unfolding—but she is not fond of being reminded of Sor?n’s extended absence.

  “So he can put you in lyftgaol [1].” K?spar turns to ?nnywella with a slight grin. He makes eye contact with Enlynn, who shares his expression. He knows they are all thinking of the same event.

  “Just answer the question.” ?nnywella glares up at K?spar, her lips pursed and her button nose scrunched.

  “I got a book recommendation from a librarian at the Styd?n library—something to read during my stay. Unfortunately, I left early and didn’t have time to finish it. So, I am looking for ‘The Manor of Otreden.’” K?spar returns to his search.

  “Oh, I have that one; I took it out this morning.” Says Awenela. “I read it every year in the autumn—it's my favorite. I’ll give it to you once I’m done; it shouldn’t be too long.”

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  “Thank you.” Says K?spar. “Just leave it by my door when you’re finished with it.”

  Awenela smiles back and nods.

  “I’ve noticed that; why do you reread that book every year? among all the other ones I’ve seen you rereading?” asks ?nnywella, as she turns and leaves the aisle, trying to herd the others slowly upstairs to the Library Cabinet.

  “Well, hmm...” Awenela has thought about this before but could never come to a conclusion other than that she simply enjoys the book; she knows that this will not satisfy ?nnywella, so she says the first thing that comes to mind. “I think it just really helps me get into the right mood for the season—I like my autumns mysterious, my winters cozy, my springs romantic, and my summers...” She trails off; she likes her summers as she likes her springs: romantic. Unable to think of something unique, she decides it’s best to just go quiet.

  ?nnywella turns to her as she starts on the stairs, looking into the perplexed blue eyes of Awenela. “Why don’t you just read different novels of the same genre?”

  “I do, but the books I reread every year help me mark a new season in a way a book I’m unfamiliar with doesn’t.” She tries to reinforce her point; her father, despite being well educated like most nobles and doing his best to pass this down to her, never focused on mental sparing in the same way Athalric had.

  “Verily, that makes sense. Similar to seasonal foods and drinks... in a way.” ?nnywella nods and continues up the stairs, leaving Awenela to just enjoy what she wants to.

  Awenela breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

  “On the topic of seasonal drinks, I saw something in Styd?n I think you might be fond of.” K?spar says, reminded of Tyes Tenitz’s contraption.

  “And what might this be?” asks ?nnywella.

  “A milk steamer or frother. One of the masters—Tyes Tenitz—had built it out of a sigil lamp. Pretty interesting; I can probably draw a diagram, though I’m not sure how safe it is to build; he was missing a finger from it.”

  “My mom does something where she heats milk on the stove and pours it on her coffee; is that similar?” asks Enlynn.

  “I think so. He had the milk in a modified coffee press; that’s what did the frothing.”

  The group arrives at the Library Cabinet. ?nnywella pulls the book, acting as the door handle, and the bookshelf swings open.

  “?denora, Konstanze, please, you two wait here.” ?nnywella says. “We can continue this conversation later.”

  The two women agree, taking a seat in the chairs on the corner of the balcony. ?nnywella and K?spar disappear into the library cabinet, the bookshelf clicking into place behind them.

  Footnotes

  [1] Lyftgaol meaning Air Jail refers to the lifting of a shorter individual (typically a misbehaving child) into the air and either holding them there at arm's length or placing them atop a tall piece of furniture. The term is commonly used both jokingly and as a threat.