Between the Pages
1061 Words
The library was the quietest place in the palace.
Nyra often wondered if that was why she loved it so much.
Its towering shelves stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, packed with books older than the kingdom itself. Tall windows bathed the room in pale winter light, while fireplaces crackled softly in each corner, keeping the endless chill at bay. The scent of parchment, leather, and cedar lingered in the air—a comforting contrast to the polished marble halls outside.
Here, no one stared.
No one whispered.
Books never judged the color of her hair.
As she stepped inside, a familiar voice greeted her.
"I was beginning to think the exhibition had become more interesting than my company."
Master Edwin looked up from behind a stack of weathered tomes, his spectacles resting low on his nose.
Nyra smiled.
"You know that's impossible."
He chuckled.
"A dangerous compliment for an old historian."
"I only speak the truth."
He gestured toward the steaming teapot already waiting on the table.
"As promised, I made this fresh just before you arrived."
"Thank you so much."
Nyra slipped off her cloak and settled into the chair across from him. The warmth of the fire wrapped around her almost instantly, easing the tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying since leaving the courtyard.
Master Edwin poured her a cup.
"You left early."
"I usually do."
"I know."
He stirred his own tea thoughtfully.
"But this time felt... different."
Nyra looked into the swirling amber liquid.
"I heard Father."
Edwin's expression softened.
"...I see."
"He didn't say anything cruel."
"No."
"He simply spoke about me as if I wasn't there."
The old historian sighed.
"Sometimes indifference wounds more deeply than anger."
Nyra gave a small nod.
"I think I'd rather be scolded."
Silence settled between them.
Not awkward.
Comfortable.
Outside, snow drifted past the towering windows.
Master Edwin reached beneath the table and produced a worn leather-bound book.
"I found something while organizing the eastern archives."
Nyra's eyes lit up immediately.
"You found another one?"
"I believe you'll enjoy this."
The cover was faded with age, its title nearly impossible to read.
"Legends of the First Kingdoms."
"It isn't an official history," Edwin explained. "Mostly myths passed down before the royal archives were established."
Nyra carefully opened the first page.
"I've always liked myths."
"They often hide truths that history forgets."
She smiled.
"I think that's why I like them."
Hours seemed to disappear whenever she read.
Kings rose and fell.
Ancient creatures wandered forgotten forests.
Spirits blessed mountains, rivers, and skies.
Some stories contradicted one another entirely.
Others ended halfway through, their remaining pages lost to time.
Nyra loved every one of them.
She paused as an illustration caught her attention.
A woman stood upon the edge of a great lake, her hands outstretched as water curled around her like ribbons dancing in the wind.
Unlike the surrounding pages...
There was no caption.
No explanation.
Only the illustration.
"...Master Edwin?"
"Hm?"
"This page..."
He leaned closer.
His brow furrowed.
"Curious."
"There's nothing written."
"There should be."
He carefully turned the page over.
The following chapter began normally, as though nothing was missing.
"Perhaps the ink faded."
Nyra gently traced the empty parchment with her fingertips.
"...Maybe."
For the briefest moment...
The page felt warm.
Nyra blinked, and the strange feeling vanished.
"...Are you alright?" Master Edwin asked, noticing the distant look in her eyes.
She glanced back down at the page. The illustration was just as it had been before—a woman standing at the edge of a vast lake, water curling gracefully around her like ribbons caught in a gentle breeze.
"...I must have imagined it."
Edwin smiled warmly.
"Old books have a way of capturing the imagination."
Nyra let out a quiet laugh.
"I suppose they do."
She carefully closed the worn tome, brushing a hand across its faded cover before returning it to the table.
"So," Edwin said, leaning back in his chair, "how many books have you finished this month?"
Nyra tilted her head as if genuinely considering it.
"...Twenty-three."
"Twenty-three?"
She gave an innocent shrug.
"I may have lost count."
Master Edwin chuckled, shaking his head.
"I've known scholars who couldn't keep up with you."
"I just... like learning."
"And yet you've somehow managed to read nearly every history book in this library."
"There are still hundreds left."
"Hundreds?" he laughed. "Only you would call that 'still.'"
The room settled into comfortable silence once more.
Nyra wandered between the towering shelves, her fingertips gliding across weathered bindings she knew almost by heart. History. Geography. Ancient kingdoms. Herbal remedies. Swordsmanship. Poetry.
Books had become more than stories.
They were companions.
Each one offered another place she could belong, if only for a little while.
She paused before a tall window overlooking the palace gardens.
Fresh snow blanketed the hedges below, turning them into soft white hills beneath the afternoon sun. Servants crossed winding pathways carrying baskets of winter flowers toward the greenhouse, while a pair of young knights sparred in the distance, their laughter carrying faintly through the glass.
It looked peaceful.
Almost warm.
A soft knock echoed from the library entrance.
One of the palace attendants stepped inside and bowed.
"Your Highness."
Nyra turned.
"The Queen requests your presence in the east dining hall."
Her heart sank.
"Now?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
She exchanged a brief glance with Master Edwin.
He offered her an encouraging smile.
"You shouldn't keep Her Majesty waiting."
"No..."
Nyra managed a small smile in return.
"I suppose I shouldn't."
She gathered her cloak from the chair, fastening the silver clasp beneath her chin.
Just before leaving, Edwin spoke again.
"Princess."
She looked back.
"Never stop asking questions."
Nyra smiled, this time a little more genuinely.
"I don't think I know how."
"I should hope not."
With one final nod, she stepped into the corridor.
The heavy library doors closed quietly behind her.
The warmth disappeared almost instantly.
The marble hall stretched endlessly before her, lined with towering columns and polished floors that reflected the afternoon light. Every step toward the east wing felt heavier than the last.
She wasn't afraid of seeing her family.
She was afraid of feeling invisible all over again.
Straightening her shoulders, Nyra drew a slow breath.
Then she continued toward the dining hall, where the rest of House Asterion was already waiting.
- Writer
