By Firelight
The study had quickly become one of Jupiter’s favorite places in the sprawling estate. Unlike the formal dining hall or the grandiose sitting rooms, the study felt lived-in, its air heavy with the scent of old leather and the soft warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. The walls were lined with bookshelves stretching up to the ceiling, and Jupiter had spent the better part of the day browsing their spines, her fingers tracing over titles she could barely pronounce. Now she was curled in one of the oversized armchairs by the fire, a thick tome resting on her lap. Her attempts to immerse herself in the book’s contents had failed miserably. The words blurred together as her thoughts wandered, circling back to the same insecurities that had plagued her since the ritual. She couldn’t
- Writer
