Eamon's days quickly began to fill with new experiences, each moment revealing more about the sisters he was growing to adore. Initially, their interactions were brief and filled with a quiet hesitance. Isolde and Morwen would spend time with him when their schedules allowed, guiding him through the vast corridors of the castle and showing him the hidden nooks and crannies that had been their childhood playgrounds. These early days were a blend of learning and mischief, a world where Eamon found not just siblings but co-conspirators in adventure.

The first time they ventured into the castle library, Eamon felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of books. Shelves stretched up to the ceiling, filled with volumes that seemed to whisper secrets from their leather-bound pages. Isolde took him by the hand and led him to a corner where a small stack of books had been set aside.

"These are for you," she said with a gentle smile, pulling out a chair for him. "We'll start with the basics."

Eamon looked up at her, his eyes wide. "But... there are so many. How will I ever read them all?"

Isolde chuckled softly. "One step at a time, little brother. We'll start with learning the letters, and soon enough, you'll be reading full stories."

As the days turned into weeks, Isolde’s lessons became more than just reading and writing. She would sit with him in the library, her voice patient and soft as she guided him through the pages. She had a way of explaining things that made even the most complex ideas feel understandable. Eamon tried to mimic her measured way of speaking, but often found himself stumbling over words. Isolde would smile at his efforts, correcting him gently, never losing her patience.

One afternoon, as they pored over a particularly difficult passage, the door to the library swung open. In walked one of the maids, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Eamon sitting with Isolde.

"Lady Isolde," the maid stammered, her gaze shifting nervously. "The King has requested your presence in the Great Hall."

Isolde sighed, closing the book in front of her. "Very well," she replied. "Eamon, stay here and keep practicing, alright?"

Eamon nodded, watching as Isolde left the room. He returned his focus to the book, trying to make sense of the words on the page. But as the minutes ticked by, his curiosity grew. The library was vast, filled with sections he had yet to explore. Unable to resist, he slid off his chair and began to wander.

He ventured deeper into the library, tracing his fingers along the spines of books that were far beyond his understanding. He turned a corner and came across a door partially hidden behind a tapestry. It was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he saw a spiral staircase leading downward.

A thrill of excitement ran through him. He knew he shouldn’t, but the allure of the unknown was too strong. He pushed the door open further and began to descend the stairs. The air grew cooler as he went deeper, and he soon found himself in a small, dimly lit room filled with old manuscripts and dusty scrolls.

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"Wow," he whispered, stepping inside. He reached out to touch one of the scrolls when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Eamon!" Isolde’s voice was sharp with alarm. She had returned to find him missing and had followed his trail.

He turned to face her, guilt written across his face. "I... I just wanted to see."

Isolde’s expression softened, though there was still a hint of sternness in her eyes. "This place is not safe for you. There are things here that you shouldn't touch." She sighed, kneeling to his level. "I know you're curious, and that's a good thing, but you need to learn to wait. Some things have to be approached with caution."

Before she could say more, the door behind them creaked open wider. The head librarian stood there, his expression a mix of surprise and disapproval.

"Lady Isolde, Prince Eamon," he said in a low, disapproving tone. "This area is restricted. The King would not approve of the young prince wandering here."

Isolde bowed her head slightly. "My apologies. I will ensure this does not happen again."

The librarian nodded curtly and left. Isolde turned back to Eamon, her expression both serious and caring. "Let's get back upstairs. We don't want to upset Father."

Eamon nodded, feeling a mix of shame and excitement. As they climbed back up the stairs, he realized something. Despite the scolding, Isolde hadn't been truly angry with him. There was a lesson in her words, not just a reprimand. It was a new kind of learning, one that spoke to the responsibilities that came with his growing curiosity.

Later that week, Morwen decided it was time for Eamon to learn the art of sneaking around the castle. One of her favorite pastimes was finding ways to outwit the maids and guards, and she saw in Eamon a potential partner in her mischief.

"Alright, here's the plan," Morwen whispered conspiratorially, crouching beside him in a shadowed alcove. "We're going to make it to the kitchens without anyone noticing. Think you can handle it?"

Eamon nodded, his eyes wide with excitement. "What do we do?"

Morwen grinned. "Follow me, and step where I step."

They began their journey, moving stealthily along the walls, ducking behind curtains and slipping through doorways. Eamon watched Morwen closely, imitating her movements as they navigated the castle. At one point, they nearly bumped into a pair of maids carrying laundry. Morwen pulled Eamon into a dark corner just in time, putting a finger to her lips.

"Shh," she breathed. "Wait until they're gone."

They waited in silence, and Eamon felt his heart pounding in his chest. The thrill of the close call made him giddy, and he struggled to keep from giggling. Once the maids had passed, they continued on their way, finally reaching the kitchens undetected.

Morwen opened a cupboard and pulled out a small loaf of bread. "Victory!" she whispered triumphantly, handing half of it to Eamon.

Eamon took it, grinning. "That was amazing! I can't believe we didn't get caught!"

"Not yet, you haven't," came a stern voice from behind them.

Eamon and Morwen spun around to see one of the kitchen staff, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

"Lady Morwen, Prince Eamon," she said, her tone a mixture of frustration and amusement. "This is the third time this week."

Morwen flashed a charming smile. "We were just... testing our stealth skills. For... important reasons."

The staff member shook her head. "You'll be the end of us all. Come on, out with you both."

As they were escorted back to the main hall, Eamon looked up at Morwen. "Are we in trouble?"

Morwen shrugged, still grinning. "Probably. But it was fun, wasn't it?"

Eamon couldn't help but laugh. They were met by one of the guards, who delivered a stern warning about staying out of the kitchen and being more mindful of their behavior. But even as they were scolded, Eamon felt a warmth in his chest. They were in this together, sharing in both the mischief and the consequences.

It was through these small rebellions and their subsequent scoldings that Eamon’s bond with his sisters grew. With Isolde, he learned the value of patience and the weight of responsibility. From Morwen, he absorbed the joy of adventure and the importance of questioning the world around him. And even in those moments when they were caught and reprimanded, there was a lesson in unity, a strength that came from knowing they were never truly alone in their struggles.

Their days were filled with laughter and learning, with scoldings and apologies, and each interaction deepened the trust and love between them. Eamon realized that his sisters were not just his guides in this world—they were his partners in navigating the complexities of life within the castle walls.