Rena
The scent of aged paper and leather bindings fills my lungs as I stand frozen in awe. My heart flutters against my ribs like a captive bird. I've been in dozens of libraries throughout my life—they've always been my sanctuary, my escape—but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for this.
"Breathe, Rena," Armani whispers, his breath warm against my ear. "You look like you might faint."
I realize I've been holding my breath and let it out in a shaky exhale. "It's just... I never imagined..."
"The Royal Library of Montovia," Armani says, squeezing my hand gently as he guides me further inside. "It's all ours for the afternoon."
I'm still trying to process how I got here. Just three days ago, I was saying goodbye to my father—a surprisingly emotional farewell filled wit
