Chapter 64 — His Spot

Chapter 64: Chapter 64 — His Spot

~ Raven ~

Her name kept coming through the crowd, and Raven stopped.

No.

She had nothing left for this. Not questions, not Linkslates held at that stupid casual angle people used when they were obviously recording, and definitely not Thalia demanding the entire story again with facial expressions included.

Raven turned around and started looking for another way out of the building.

At the head of the next stairwell, a brass sign which pointed down a quieter corridor caught her eye.

LIBRARY — EAST HALL

She stared at it for a second, then changed direction.

The noise faded surprisingly fast. With every turn, the academy seemed to get older and quieter around her. The stone beneath her boots had been worn into shallow dips by generations of students, and the windows narrowed until daylight came through them in long strips across the floor.

By the time Raven reached the library, she could barely hear anything except her own footsteps.

It was enormous.

Of course it was. Apparently Valerius believed even books required enough space to establish dominance.

She walked past rows of shelves, reading tables and copying desks, following the signs toward the eastern side until the main library opened into a long reading hall lined with tall windows.

Almost nobody was there.

Everyone with any interest in Raven Rivers was probably still somewhere downstairs arguing about her.

Good.

A table sat in the far corner beside the last window, tucked partly out of the sunlight. Raven dropped into the chair and stayed there for a while without doing anything.

Somewhere behind her, the clerk slid a book onto a shelf. A few seconds later came the soft thump of another.

Raven breathed.

Her shoulders finally loosened.

Less than two days.

She went back through the Headmaster’s list despite herself and still couldn’t find the part where she had deliberately chosen most of it. She hadn’t asked for the special assessment. She hadn’t known whose record she was breaking. She certainly hadn’t gone searching for Celeste, the twins or Dante.

The Redress hadn’t been her idea either.

The only thing she had chosen was refusing to kneel.

And even that had happened after an entire academy had followed her into a cafeteria to watch.

Raven rubbed at one eye.

It didn’t matter anyway. The Headmaster had a ledger, and ledgers apparently did not contain a column for everyone else started it.

A book lay near the opposite edge of the table.

Raven barely noticed it at first. The cover was plain brown, deliberately boring, the sort of thing she would have shoved back onto a shelf without checking the title.

Except it had fallen slightly open.

One sentence showed between the pages.

Mira did not look back at the gates.

Raven went completely still.

Her hand stopped halfway across the table.

She knew that sentence.

She remembered writing it with her back aching from kitchen work and a candle burned almost down to the holder. She remembered reading it twice afterward and deciding she hated Mira a little for getting everything Raven couldn’t have.

Raven grabbed the book.

The brown cover shifted beneath her fingers.

It wasn’t the real cover at all.

Someone had fitted it carefully over another book, creasing the edges around the original binding so neatly that Raven hadn’t noticed until she pulled it loose.

Worn gold lettering appeared underneath.

Beyond the Chains — R. Vale.

Raven stared.

Of course there were copies at Valerius. Brielle had nearly started an argument over the ending already, so Raven knew people here read it.

Still, seeing one now felt different.

For the entire morning she had been Raven Rivers.

Blackthorn’s former maid.

The girl rejected by two Alphas.

Twentieth Seat for less than a day, and possibly not even that anymore.

A problem large enough to require four Cardinal heirs and the Headmaster in the same office.

But this book had existed before any of them knew her name.

Raven ran her thumb along the pages.

They had gone soft around the edges from use. A ribbon marked a place more than halfway through, and someone had written in several of the margins. Not careless scribbles either. Short notes, underlined passages, little marks beside particular lines.

Someone had read this properly.

A tired smile tugged at Raven’s mouth before she could stop it.

Three years of stolen candles. Pages hidden beneath floorboards. Writing until her fingers cramped, then waking before dawn to scrub pots while wondering whether anyone outside House Blackthorn would ever care about the things she had put on paper.

Apparently somebody had.

Raven opened to the first page.

Then the second.

Then another.

The clerk continued shelving somewhere behind her. Sunlight moved gradually across the table, but Raven stopped noticing either.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before a faint chill travelled over the backs of her arms.

Raven looked up.

Cassian Blade stood at the entrance to the east reading hall.

His eyes were on her.

Then they dropped to the book in her hands.

Oh, come on.

Of all people.

Raven had told him to go fuck himself in front of several hundred students less than two hours ago, despite the inconvenient fact that he had been the closest thing she’d had to help during the entire Redress.

She had not expected him to come looking for repayment.

Then again, Raven knew almost nothing about Cassian Blade beyond the fact that he could read legal documents, steal food with remarkable confidence and apparently make Rowan want to commit murder simply by answering questions.

Cassian started toward her.

He didn’t hurry, but something changed in his expression as he got closer. His gaze moved from Raven to the chair she was sitting in, then down to Beyond the Chains.

He stopped.

Raven glanced at the false cover beside her elbow.

Then back at him.

His eyes narrowed.

Raven raised an eyebrow before she could help herself.

Cassian came to the table and looked at her for another second.

"What are you doing in my spot?"

Raven blinked.

Her eyes moved around the corner.

The table beside the tall window.

The chair.

Then slowly, very slowly, they dropped to the carefully disguised, heavily read copy of her own novel sitting in her hands.

Oh.