A hand touched Felitïa’s back, just below the nape of her neck. With it came a familiar presence, tinged with feelings of amusement, happiness, and a hint of attraction that she was beginning to not just enjoy, but also desire. She kept her eyes closed a moment longer, extending the feeling of the hand on her skin, but she couldn’t stop herself smiling. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She’d just put her head down for a moment.

The hand moved across her shoulder as Maneshka slid onto the bench beside her. “You have been overworking.”

Felitïa opened her eyes and raised her head. Maneshka was looking at her with concern. “I don’t think so. Have I?”

Maneshka grinned. “You were the one asleep at the table.”

Felitïa's cheeks warmed. “I was out in the sun too much yesterday—with you, then waiting to speak with the Ninifins.”

“Perhaps.”

Felitïa looked away from Maneshka’s eyes for a moment. They were alone in the room. “Where are Meleng and Sinitïa?”

“In the stacks,” Maneshka replied. “Meleng is answering Sinitïa’s questions. Suspecting it would take awhile, I decided to bring some of the books we found up to you.”

Felitïa smirked. “Yes, that will likely take awhile.” Quilla was with Garet today. He was getting impatient again and she was keeping him calm—attempting to, at any rate. “What have you found?”

Maneshka reached over to a small stack of books on the table and took the top one. “Meleng says you might be interested in this one. I do not recognise the language, but Meleng says he thinks it might be Folithan. He says you might be able to read it.”

Felitïa took the book and opened the delicate leather cover. Like all the books here, it was very old, but in remarkable shape—the magic of this place keeping them preserved through the millennia. “My Folithan is really out of practice.” The words that stared back at her weren’t familiar—not at first, though as she looked more closely, she thought she recognised a couple. “Though if this is Folithan, it’s very old Folithan. Even if I was in practice, I’m not sure I could read it. But Meleng’s right that I’m the best one for this. I have a better idea where to start deciphering.”

“The other books,” Maneshka said, reaching to take one of them, “are more from the Volganth collection. Meleng and I will continue our attempts to decipher them.”

“I guess I’d better get started,” Felitïa said.

A short while later, she looked up from the book. Maneshka had moved down the table a short distance and was writing notes on the book she was reading. “You know,” Felitïa said, “this is reminding me of the lessons I had with Ardon when I was young.” Ardon would probably be better at reading or deciphering this than she would. She wondered what he was up to. She’d seen very little of him on Scovese. She should seek him out and inform him what she’d been doing. Then again, he probably already knew.

“Ardon?” Maneshka said without looking up. “I thought you said your teacher was Elderaan.”

“Yes, Elderaan was my magic teacher, but Ardon was the teacher I had before Elderaan, when my family was forcing me to study for the priesthood. That was before I ran away.”

Maneshka put down her pen and looked up. “Ran away?”

“Oh right, I haven’t told you about that.”

“You have told me very little about yourself,” Maneshka said.

“Well, I ran away from the palace when I was young.”

“Why?”

“I hated it there. I wanted to be a wizard and they wouldn’t let me, so I ran away.”

“You are a very unusual individual, Felitïa. If I had been born to royalty, I cannot imagine that I would ever want to leave it.”

“Yeah, I am unusual,” Felitïa admitted. “Does it bother you?”

Maneshka shook her head. “No, it does not bother me. I am very intrigued by it. Tell me more about yourself.”

So Felitïa began to tell Maneshka about how she’d travelled across Arnor, how she’d met Elderaan, and how he had taken her in. She told her about Zandrue and eventually about her telepathy. Felitïa paused at that moment and waited for a response from Maneshka.

Her response was slow, but measured. “You know my thoughts?” There was wariness and uncertainty coming from her now, but the intrigue emanating from her didn’t diminish. If anything, it increased.

“Not exactly. I just sort of sense feelings. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times, sometimes strong enough that I almost get visual impressions of what people are thinking. Sometimes I barely detect anything at all. Over the years, I’ve gotten a little better at using it, but not really at understanding it. It can be unpredictable at the best of times. Once or twice, it’s made me act...odd.”

Maneshka smiled and Felitïa felt a wave of understanding pass from her. “That explains how you blocked the translation spell so easily, and what you said afterwards. Something about a room?”

“Oh, right. I told you that, didn’t I?” Felitïa had forgotten about that.

“Yes, though it made little sense to me at the time. You made no mention of telepathy then.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s not something I tell everyone. But I wasn’t even thinking about the fact you didn’t know. I just started babbling. Blocking the translation took more effort than I realised. It had a weird effect on me.”

Maneshka smirked. “And then you fell asleep.”

Felitïa blushed—she wondered if it was noticeable over her sunburnt face. “Yes, I fell asleep. You must have thought me terribly rude.”

“No, just odd. But intriguing. You clearly had a strong mind and were very intelligent.” Maneshka placed a hand on Felitïa’s. “The kind of people who visit here tend to be intelligent, but there was something different about you.”

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They spent several moments just staring into each other’s eyes. Felitïa could feel that attraction emanating from Maneshka again. No, not just attraction. Lust. There was lust there. It was starting to become difficult to tell where her own feelings ended and Maneshka’s began. Her heart was beating fast again. A sense of panic passed over her—she was pretty certain it was her own.

“Tell me about yourself,” Felitïa blurted, pulling her hand away.

Momentary start passed from Maneshka and the feeling of lust diminished, but only a little. “I do not know what to say. My life is nowhere near as interesting. I do not know magic. I am not being chased by Volganths or the Servants of Sunset. I do not have secret telepathic powers. I am just a humble librarian.”

Felitïa was starting to feel a little guilty from pulling away from her, so she tried placing her hand back on Maneshka’s. This was so new to her. She didn’t know what she should be doing.

Research. That’s what she was here for. That was what she should be doing.

But right now, she just didn’t want to.

“Oh, don’t be modest. You’re a highly trained linguist, fluent in a bunch of languages, competent in a dozen more.” Just not her own, Felitïa thought. “There has to be something to say. No secrets?”

Maneshka lowered her head with a smile. “I once kept pet rats in secret. My mother would have been very angry if she had ever found out. I was always afraid she would. Does that count?”

Felitïa smiled. “I think so.”

Maneshka leaned in closer, raised her other hand to the side of Felitïa’s face. “I am curious. If you can sense the feelings of others, what must it be like when you get very close to someone, to feel both your own desire and the other person’s?”

Once more, panic flooded Felitïa and she pulled away. “I should get back to work.” Again, she blurted the words. Again, she regretted it almost immediately.

“Of course,” Maneshka said, disappointment coming from her. “Apologies. I have been too forward again.” Maneshka picked her pen back up, dipped it in her inkwell, and returned to the book she had been deciphering.

“No, no,” Felitïa said. “I...I just...I’m just a little scared. That’s all. This is new to me.”

Maneshka put the pen down and looked back at her. “You have never...?”

Felitïa turned her head away, looked down at the table, and shook her head.

“It is all right. We will go more slowly then.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have any other secrets to tell me? Perhaps telekinetic powers or the ability to teleport?”

Felitïa laughed and shook her head. “No, just the telepathy. Although there is this weird thing, and it’s related to something I’ve wanted to ask you. I have this...vision or dream or something. In my head. I think it’s been there a long time, for years probably. At least as long as I’ve known Zandrue, I think, although I didn’t realise it at the time. There are these people in my head. Not literally, of course. They’re real people, and I see them in complete, total detail. I’m not sure how many there are. They’re only revealed to me as I meet or learn of them in real life. Anyway, one of them is the head of Emperor Rojdan’s personal guard, a man named Kindanog. I was wondering if maybe you knew a way I could make some sort of formal petition to see him. I asked Adranaska and he said he asked for me, but Kindanog is too busy. But if you know some sort of process, a waiting list I can be put on...”

Felitïa paused. Surprise and disappointment, even anger, surged from Maneshka. “Is everything okay?”

“So this is what this is all about?” Maneshka said, standing up and glaring at Felitïa. “You have just been using me.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“You wish me to get you a meeting with Kindanog.” Maneshka turned away from her. “That is why you make advances on me and pull away when I reciprocate because you are not truly interested.”

“No, not at all. I just wanted—Can you get me a meeting? No, no, that’s not what I’ve been after. I want a meeting with him, yes, but I just wondered if you knew the process. Why would that be a problem? I don’t understand.”

Maneshka turned back to her. “You do not know?”

“Know what?”

“No, how could you know?” Maneshka’s anger was diminishing now, replaced with some embarrassment. “I am sorry again. I keep reacting wrongly around you. There is no reason why you would know. Kindanog is my husband.”

Felitïa’s heart sank. “You’re married?”

“Yes. To Kindanog.”

“Now I don’t understand again,” Felitïa said.

“What is there to understand?” Maneshka asked, sitting back down beside Felitïa. She reached for Felitïa’s hand, but Felitïa pulled it away.

“You’re married,” Felitïa said. “I thought...I mean...You and me, I thought...”

“You did not think wrongly. My marriage to Kindanog is a political one. Our parents arranged it before I could even walk.”

“Oh. So you’re married to him, but you’re not married married.” Felitïa's cheeks warmed again.

Maneshka tilted her head slightly. “I think you just confused the translation spell.”

“I mean, you don’t love him?”

Maneshka smiled. “I would say that, yes, I do love him. He is a good man. I like and respect him a great deal. I have come to love him. But more in the way I might love a brother if I had one. The fact is, though, we rarely see each other. Either I am away or he is. This is the first time he has ever come to Scovese, but even now, I have barely seen him, only late at night when we are both too tired even to talk more than a few words wishing each other a good night.”

They sat in silence for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes again. Then the main doors opened, and they both sighed.

Four Isyar entered the library and looked about.

Maneshka stood up and spread her arms wide in the Sanalog greeting. “Welcome, friends.” She walked towards them. “I am Maneshka, head librarian. How may I be of service?”

The four Isyar spread their arms in the same manner. One of them said, “We represent the Isyar Lords. Their Honours would like to visit the library. They have sent us to make the appropriate arrangements.”

“Their Honours will be most welcome,” Maneshka said. “Please give me a moment and I will summon my staff.”

The Isyar bowed their heads in acknowledgement, and Maneshka returned to Felitïa. “Duty calls. I will talk to Kindanog for you.”

“Thank you,” Felitïa said.

“Hopefully I will see you before, but if not, will I see you at the ball?”

“Ball?”

“Yes, there is to be a ball tomorrow night,” Maneshka said. “To celebrate the coming together of so many peoples. It was announced this morning.”

“I missed that,” Felitïa said, feeling embarrassed again. “I came straight here.”

Maneshka smirked. “I told you you work too hard. I had better go.”

Felitïa watched Maneshka until she disappeared through one of the back doors. Then she looked back over at the four Isyar, who were talking amongst themselves, commenting on the library and the translation spell, which they had all noticed already.

“It is a sophisticated spell,” one of them said. “Definitely not of human design. However, it is old and could use some reinforcement. I may ask Lord Zizzintharus to allow me to make some adjustments to it, to strengthen it.”

Figured. They had broken it down and analysed it in a matter of moments. She wondered what Maneshka would think of that and if she would still be impressed by Felitïa’s handling of the spell.

With a sigh, Felitïa turned back to the ancient Folithan book.