She quickly stood back up and pulled me off the bed. Glancing down at my clothes, stained with blood and mud. She rolled
her eyes before shoving me back down and began looking for one of my dresses.
“Put this on and we shall head to the library.”
“Don’t you know what the rites are? Surely we can just stay here.”
She looked at me then with eyes that told me to do as I was told and don’t question her as I changed behind my screen.
Removing Nicholas’s cloak, I threw on the blue cotton dress she’d handed me. Then I followed her through the doorway, and
into the library—my sanctuary.
Littered all across the main table were books. The many, many books April demanded I read through before the wedding. I
was pretty sure I only read maybe three of them. I was not as fast of a reader as I originally thought and a month was not enough
time to read this much history, or details of a kingdom.
“I don’t know the rites, Ornella, as that isn’t something I wish to know. My brother knows I will never marry and thus I will
never need to learn them, however, you do. So, sit your ass down and we are going to get to work.”
“If I’m going to be studying, can we at least have some breakfast and a pot of tea brought up?” I asked desperately.
She nodded in agreement. I watched as Morg closed her eyes and entwined her fingers together, whirling them in front of
herself. Seconds later, she reopened them and sat down in the seat next to me, flipping open a book as if nothing happened.
“Eh…what did you just do?”
“Told the cook to send someone up with a breakfast tray.”
“Oh, sounds so simple,” I spoke sarcastically and turned my nose into my book.
“Itissimple actually. It was one of the first things I learnt when my magic manifested. It’s similar to Nic’s power of mind
control or whatever he wants to call it.”
I wondered what else Nicholas and his sisters were able to do. Magic wasn’t something we discussed or did back home.
Only healers and seers openly practiced. It just wasn’t a thing my people did.
Not long after, a maid came up through the main door along with a footman who carried two trays of food. She pushed a
trolley in with a pot of tea, two large bowls of porridge, with a selection of fresh fruit and some cakes. Asking if we needed
anything else, when we said ‘no’, they were dismissed. I happily began to enjoy the taste of strawberries with warm porridge
and honey.
“Right, now you’re done cramming that into your mouth—here,” she said, shoving the book across the table at me.
I gave her a dirty look before looking down at the page. Written at the top was a title in rather obnoxious bold lettering.
‘The Rites Of Marriage.’
I didn’t know if I wanted to read the first line. What if I were to become shocked and disgusted? Or would I find it