The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,78

two as he murmured translations, and Myth couldn’t bring herself to care enough to help him.

“The reports confirmed what we feared; we lost all the information and reports you had gathered for the case in the blaze. Since they were stored in the director’s office, they burned immediately,” King Celrin said.

“Yes, but how did they do it?” Arvel asked. “Is there a leak in the department?”

“No.” King Petyrr sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “The secretary said that when the majority of the department was out on lunch…Queen Luciee came.”

“What?” Arvel thundered in a voice Myth hadn’t ever heard him use before.

“She couldn’t have started the fire herself,” King Petyrr continued. “She spoke to the secretary for a few minutes and then left. But the fire started shortly after, so it’s likely she let in the perpetrator and served as the distraction.”

Arvel laughed and shook his head as he paced back and forth in front of Myth’s chair. “I can’t believe it. I knew she held an unhealthy amount of loyalty to the Fultons, but to go this far? She has chosen them over the country!” Arvel whirled around to face his father. “And I will do everything I can to rip whatever few bits of power she has left from her. Never again will she be allowed to visit any of the governmental offices I run!”

King Petyrr held his hands up. “I know. Benjimir has already stated something similar to me, and I agree with both of you.”

“Then why didn’t you do something sooner?” Arvel demanded.

“Because I still had hope,” King Petyrr said wearily. “I dared to think she wouldn’t follow her brother this far. It was a miscalculation. I’m sorry.”

Arvel sighed, and all the heat in him seemed to evaporate. He reached out to brush Myth’s shoulder.

She looked up at him and tried to smile, but her lips trembled too much.

Arvel shut his eyes and faced his father again. “What of the library? Have we any leads there?”

“Based on the reported estimations, it seems the fire was started at approximately the same time,” King Celrin said through Rollo. He glanced over a few of the papers Sir Arion had personally delivered not five minutes ago and pressed his lips together, sorrow darkening his face. “It is safe to assume it is the work of the Fultons, but the librarians recall no suspicious activity.”

“How much?” Myth croaked.

Arvel spun around to face her as she set her teacup down with determination and made herself stand, gathering up her strength.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and forced herself to meet the kings’ gazes. “How much of the library burned?”

King Celrin held out a paper. “It wasn’t as bad as initially feared. The first-floor materials are entirely unscathed due to the protection spells layered there. The windows need replacing, but the building is still structurally sound.”

He paused to let Translator Rollo catch up, then continued, “It seems the study area on the second floor was worst hit. All the furniture from that area is cinders, and we lost several collections of rare materials, and a number of original artifacts from the library’s founding. However, due to two fountains that were strategically placed on the second floor, the Honor Guards were able to contain the blaze, so much of the second story books and materials are salvageable, although it will require the cooperation of the wizards and enchanters to restore them.”

Myth glanced at Arvel, who was already watching her.

When she met his gaze he nodded slightly, his eyes crinkling with pain.

He agreed…the library was retaliation.

The second-floor study area was where Myth and Arvel always sat when working at the library. The fire was a warning shot from the Fultons. They had struck the building, most likely thinking to rattle Arvel. There was no way Lord Julyan could have known how it would affect Myth.

Unfortunately for Lord Julyan, there was much he didn’t know about Myth.

Rage, as hot as lava and peppery as brimstone, simmered in Myth’s belly. It was a foreign feeling. Never before had she been so angry—so hurt.

Wait, she told herself. Just wait.

She rolled back her shoulders and tried to appear calm as she asked the question she most dreaded hearing the answer to. “And how will this affect the case against the Fultons?”

King Celrin set a hand on one of the branches of his chair. “In many ways, it will make things worse for them. There were several elves working in the library at the time of the fire, and