She had finished reading one of her borrowed books, and while her workday was technically finished as Arvel didn’t have any social commitments in the evening, she wanted to return the book in hopes that she might be able to borrow another.
She didn’t mind the trip. She intended to linger in the library, which always seemed to cheer her up no matter how she felt.
And while the past few days hadn’t been as stressful as Myth had prepared herself for, she was still tensed most of the time, and her cheeks were starting to hurt from the slight smile she frequently wore to make herself look pleasant.
Myth yawned widely and confirmed she was alone in the hallway before she began to swing her free arm, loosening her shoulders and brushing out some of the wrinkles pressed into her apprentice jacket.
She glanced down at her shirt, checking to make sure nothing had dirtied the crisp, light blue shirt with its dark blue embroidery that matched the lapels and cuffs of her jacket. She was feeling so good, she even made a jaunty whistle or two as she strolled along.
She passed Arvel’s now-familiar study, glanced at the door, and saw the slit of light escaping from under it. She jolted to a stop, and for a panic-stricken moment she wondered if she had made a mistake.
Why is he still working? Was I supposed to return after dinner? Did I forget an appointment? No, I couldn’t have. He bid me a good night when we parted. But why, then, is there a light coming from his study?
Myth dithered for a few moments, then reluctantly marched herself up to the door and knocked. Unlike Rollo and the other Calnorians she had met, Myth waited outside.
Her book told her Calnorians had minimum concern for privacy, and if you were close with a person you entered the room regardless of whether they gave you spoken permission or not. Myth had decided that, as Crown Prince Arvel’s employee, they were considered work companions, but not friends, so she stayed staring at the door.
A few moments passed, and the door’s hinges creaked as it opened. “Hello, Mythlan! Come in—I’ve told you before you don’t need to knock.” The crown prince playfully shook a finger at her as he returned to his desk.
Reluctantly, Myth stepped inside the study—although she left the door open.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Certainly.” Myth tipped her head in a shallow bow. “Rather, I was on my way to return one of the books I was able to borrow, and I saw the light coming from under the door. I was concerned I had forgotten work I am supposed to help you with.”
“Not at all.” Arvel shook his head. “Just doing a bit of pleasure reading. This is the second-to-last night we have off for some time—I’ve got socials and teas cluttering up our schedule for the foreseeable future—so I thought I’d read up.”
“I see. In that case I apologize for interrupting you.”
“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting!” Arvel sat on the edge of his desk and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Were you pleased with your book?”
“Yes, very much so.” Myth reflexively glanced down at the tome. “It cleared up some of the confusion I had over formal greetings. I’m afraid I still have much to learn, however, about Calnorian social rules and customs in general.”
“You don’t have to teach yourself all of this, particularly in such a short amount of time. Most apprentices take years to learn it. That’s why Rollo told you to ask him if you needed help.”
Myth nodded. “Perhaps, but Translator Rollo is now the official translator for My King Celrin and His Majesty King Petyrr. I could not bother him with such trifles when a bit of research will reveal the answer.”
Crown Prince Arvel rested his palms on his desk and leaned back on them, his eyes settling to half-mast as he gave Myth a look that was a lot more piercing than Myth liked. “I see.”
Lacking anything to say in response, Myth put on her polite and serene smile. “I hope you enjoy your last night off. And I shall do my best to serve you once the social events begin.”
“Thank you. You enjoy yourself tonight, too, Mythlan. The socials can be enjoyable—some of them have great food. Maybe they’ll be even a little more fun with you as my translator.” Arvel offered her his boyish smile that Myth was fairly certain was responsible for more