The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER XXII | CONSTERNATION

       MAARIT AND PICARD had barely covered half of the castle when they decided to stop for the day and return to the library. There was an unusual spring in the young woman's step as they made their way back. Her fingertips itched to glide over pages of books. It had been a while since she had had the time to sit down and read a book. At the castle, she had all the time in the world.

Legs trembling with excitement, she stepped onto one of the ladders and climbed to the very top. As she did so, she ran her fingers over the spines, her eyes skimming over the titles. The shelves were stocked with all different sorts of books, ranging from ancient to freshly printed. Maarit paused in her pursuit of a book to read first when she noticed strange writing on one of the spines. She frowned and tilted her head, surveying the script until she realized that she did not understand it because it was in Arabic.

"Alexander?" she called, leaning away from the ladder. She looked down at the floor, only to see Picard standing far below. "There's literature from the Middle East here? In Arabic?"

"Oh, yes," he said, nodding. "That is not all there is, though. Some of the literature is also Italian, Indian, Chinese, Russian..." He paused, tapping his chin in ponderation, before continuing. "Dutch, Norse, Latin, French and I believe even Croatian and Hebrew. There may be more, but my mind is drawing a blank at the moment..."

Her mouth fell open, delightful shock lifting her dark eyebrows to the ceiling. "No wonder there are so many books! Perhaps all the books in existence are in this very room." The hyperbole resounded hollowly through the library, echoing across the walls, the glass dome ceiling and the bookshelves.

"Do you know any other languages, Maarit?" Picard asked, gazing up at her as she swayed on the ladder. Curiosity crept into his voice.

"Hm... well, I do know some Latin. As you are very aware, enchantments are in Latin. I became curious as to what some of them translated to, so I started to teach myself the language about three years ago. I have also picked up some Hindi from my..." She stopped herself when she realized what she was saying, but cleared her throat to cover her momentary hesitation. "I picked it up from my parents, but I don't know too much of it. What about you?"

"I am quite fluent in Latin and French," said Picard.

"Interesting," she mused, plucking a random book from the shelf. "What languages does His Bitchiness speak?"

The warlock doubled over, overcome with laughter and clutching onto the nearest bookshelf for support. Maarit was soon laughing along with him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She felt more alive than she had felt since arriving at the castle.

"He speaks Latin and French as well," Picard told her once his laughter had ceased—but traces of it still remained in his eyes. The poor young man seemed like he had not gotten a good laugh in a decade.

"Right. Of course he does," Maarit replied. "Do you think he would care if I brought this to my room to read? I know that I cannot possibly be here all night because you have to supervise me, but I'd like to read it." She lifted a book up and showed the cover to Picard from the top of the ladder.

"I doubt one missing book would make a difference," said Picard, shrugging his shoulders. "You can always bring it back once you're finished and take a new one. The library will still be here tomorrow."