A Courtyard of Roses

Chapter Twenty-Five

LIBRARIES WERE MEANT to be silent. That was the golden rule Alice had grown up knowing. As a result of this rule, she had seen people napping on the public library's couches and at their tables one too many times. It had become such a norm for the world that Alice had forgotten that sleep was meant to be enjoyed in one's private bedroom instead of in the public's eye where the tables served other purposes.

"Wyatt?" Alice called out, inwardly debating with herself on whether she should wake him up.

The youth had woken up early in the morning, a usual for him, as Alice had come to realize. Wyatt always rose early in the morning to complete his work, keeping himself locked and busy in his personal study before grabbing a quick lunch with Charlie and her. For breakfast, he would always eat no more than a sandwich or a few slices of fruit, preferring to use the time spent eating on his work than on leisure. That afternoon, he had rushed his work extra quickly so as to squeeze some time to head out into town with Alice. As a result, he must've been behind schedule to have been kept so late in the palace by the crown prince.

On the table, Wyatt was blissfully asleep. His eyelids were closed, snowy white lashes fluttered shut and resting on the skin right beneath his eye. As he slept, his shoulders rose and fell with each tranquil breath, not even a single snore could be heard from him. Even when slumped over a desk with work piled all around him and books scattered on the floor by his chair, Wyatt Ragan was still the picture of perfect elegance like he was raised to be.

If Alice had to put a name to his appearance, Wyatt looked like an ice prince with his snowy white hair and fair skin. However, his personality was furthest from that. From what Alice could infer, Wyatt was as warm as a fire, always bursting with sparkling light and igniting heat on young maidens' cheeks with his flirtatious words.

She was sure that there was more to Wyatt than what meets the eye but she wasn't able to put it into words. Was Wyatt suspicious? Was he secretly nefarious? Should Alice fully trust him? Those were all questions she couldn't answer at the moment.

In the flickering orange glow of the lighted lamp, Wyatt's hair took on a faint yellowish-gold hue. As the fine strands of hair reflected the fire's light like strings of gossamer from a delicately woven web, Alice felt her hand gravitating towards him. An unexplainable feeling washed over her, flooding her with the temptation of reaching out and just running her fingers through those silky tresses.

"My, is my dear Alice being awfully daring for once?"

A voice jolted Alice out of her daydream, her hand quickly retracting in shock. Reflexively, she took a step back, moving away from Wyatt. Unfortunately, as she had stepped back without looking at where she was headed, her feet landed on a book that was carelessly strewn on the floor, causing her to lose her balance. She landed on the floor before she even realized she was falling, a resounding thud echoing through the quiet library.

"Ah..." Alice groaned, rubbing at her no doubt bruised behind. "That hurt."

"Surely it did." Looking up, Alice's face reddened as her gaze crashed into that of a pair of ruby-colored eyes. Wyatt observed her with a faint amused smile, his head still resting on his folded arms on the table. When their line of sight finally connected with each other's, he raised his head from the table, stretching a hand out for Alice to take. "Are you quite alright?"

Embarrassment colored her cheeks in saturated tones of red. The more Wyatt smiled at her, the more she wanted to dig a hole right through the floors to bury her head under.

"Yes." Placing her hand in Wyatt's, she allowed herself to be pulled up by him. Once she was steady on her feet again, she patted down her skirt, combing her tousled hair back. The book that she had tripped over was now safely in her hands, no longer the danger hazard it once was. "Sorry you had to see that."