You Are Mine (Mine #1)(23)

I randomly pick doors to open and peek in, though I avoid the area by the Envadi's turret. There are so many rooms, all with such varying styles and colors. Nothing sticks out. I wander through halls and stairways until I open a door to reveal something different.

This one is as big as one floor of Father's house, smelling of old paper. Shelves cover the walls, floor to ceiling, books filling them. I never knew so many books existed. Father has some, but those wouldn't fill one bookshelf here. What other words could they contain? If they're all like Woman's Canon, I've no use for them. Still, the idea they might have more tugs at me until it pulls me further into the room. I'm not supposed to touch them. What if someone caught me just being in here with them? I focus on other things, while the books linger in my mind.

Curtains hang from the ceiling to the floor in several places. When I pull one open, there's a window taller than me looking over the front of the manor. The others open to reveal more of the front and lake side of the manor. The lake is bigger than I thought it would be, swelling across the land. On the side closest to the manor is a little dock with a boat bobbing beside it.

After letting the curtain fall back into place, I try to continue ignoring the call of the surrounding books. I focus on all the chairs, sofas, and tables. The council meeting was off limits, but I imagine something like this would suit their needs. Lots of places for warlocks to sit and do whatever it is they do. Memories of being confined to my room on those days are hot, sticky, and unpleasant. I push them away.

Several minutes pass and nobody has wandered in. The books are still calling. What if they aren't all like the Woman's Canon? They can't all be, can they? I move closer to them. Most are thinner than the only book I'm allowed, a few are fatter.

No one is around, what harm could it do to look?

I peruse the bookshelves, searching for something worth the risk. Something that will show me a world outside the Woman's Canon. My search stops on one titled The Light of Day. I rest my hand upon it. Supple and bumpy. Still, no one comes.

With a tug, I remove it from the shelf. It's tiny in my hands compared to what I'm used to. Easier to hide. I run a finger on the edge of its spine. It's softer than the Woman's Canon.

With a silent hope I'm not bringing trouble on myself, I open it. The smell of old paper grows stronger. I flip a few pages, then hear footsteps thumping down the hall. Hugging the book to me, I lunge to a nearby couch and hunker behind it.

The hinges of the door squeak as it opens. A slight pause, then the footsteps enter the room. I quiet my breathing. Oh, how Cynthia was right! I'll be punished for this. The extra space the house provides can't hide me if another comes in the same room as me. I shouldn't have given in to my desires on the word of a servant. Warlocks have the final say, always.

My legs burn from keeping huddled. It's been too long since I've used my muscles for such a purpose. It's silent for several minutes. The pang in my legs increases to a stab. If I continue like this, I'll give myself away. I peek my head up. The Envadi!

I duck my head down and hold my breathe. He's staring at a nearby bookshelf. Just staring. My lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen. I resume breathing, but it's too loud. I hold it again.

My muscles throb. Gradually, I lower myself to the ground. My dress rustles. I bite my lower lip. The footsteps move closer. He's at the bookshelf just a few steps from me. Of all the shelves in this room, why did he have to pick that one? If he turns his head he'll see me. I close my eyes.

My hands tighten around the book. The book. I shouldn't even have this. How much worse will my punishment be if I'm caught with it? Can I shove it under the couch? Maybe, but it might make noise and catch his attention. Blast.

After a few moments, the footsteps return, but this time leading away from me. I let out my breath as quietly as I can. The door squeaks open and closes. Did he leave?

I wait another few moments in silence. I hear nothing. Did he really leave then? I peek around the room again. Empty. I sigh and rub my sore legs with my free hand. Once they feel a bit better, I grab the back of the couch and hoist myself up. My hands are shaking.

Wasting no time, I head for the door until I realize the book is still in my hands. Do I take it with or put it away? It almost got me caught. Almost brought punishment. But it didn't and I want to know what it says. The brief glimpse I got seemed different than the Woman's Canon. More than ever, I want something new. Can I compound the rule I've already broken by taking it with?

Cynthia says I'm reckless. Reckless I'll be. Book in hand, I move to the door. I twist the handle and ease it open a crack. No one appears to be in the hall. I ease it open further and stick my head out so I can see deeper into the passage. Empty.

I slip from the room and close the door until the latch gives a faint click. I head for my own room. In my panic, it takes me a moment to orient myself as to where I am and where I need to go. Remembering the lay of the land outside the book room window, I head toward the direction my room should lie in. Things soon look familiar.

I finish climbing to my room. Once there, I do another thing I have never before attempted. I lock my door. Just to be safe, I curl up in my bed so I can hide the book under my pillow if need be and claim I was resting.

I open the book again and let its scent fill me. The words quickly consume me. It's nothing like the Woman's Canon. Almost being caught was worth it. As long as it doesn't bring trouble and punishments my way, I think I'm going to like it.