If avoidance were an Olympic sport, I’d have a gold medal and an endorsement deal.
After the night of the Very Questionable Balcony Decisions and the follow-up ball where we both pretended it meant nothing, I decided I needed to do something productive.
Like interrogate ancient books about my possibly haunted love life.
So I went to the library.
“Back so soon?” the librarian asked as I pushed open the massive oak doors. She was a willowy fae with spectacles and the permanent expression of someone who knows where every book is and judges you for your choices.
“I’m here to do serious academic research,” I said. “And definitely not to avoid making eye contact with your king.”
Her mouth twitched. “Of course, my lady. What are we researching today?”
“Winter Queens,” I said. “Portals. Fra
