The scent of damp, ancient pages was so strong in the royal archive that it made Simon Kahn feel ill. As he moved through the shorter shelves, glancing over the tops to scan the room, the smell seemed to penetrate his lungs. This place was in pristine condition, with meticulously maintained tomes and furniture, but no matter how the staff reduced the dust and cleaned the floors, the smell of paper yearning to rot would always linger.

The majority of the archives were kept tucked away from public view, but here on the ground floor, people moved about more freely. Nothing vital was here, just research volumes that had multiple copies, things that they could afford to lose. 

Simon paused as his eyes landed on a table covered in open books and notes scrawled in fine penmanship. His breath was slow and quiet and he did his best not to be too overt when he glanced toward the woman seated there. It seemed, however, that he need not worry about stealth. Aria Knight, thin body draped in layers of white fabric and pale face framed by hair like sunlight, made a stark contrast against the dim surroundings of the archives.

He shouldn’t be bothering her. It was not Simon’s job to greet or disturb patrons. His duty was to spend every waking moment in the depths of this place, desperately attempting to organize the older abandoned works from hundreds of years ago, things so unimportant and unmemorable that they didn’t even contain author names or years written. Aria Knight was not his job.

But she was a friend.

Sort of.

It was difficult for Simon to tell how most people felt about him, and Aria was perhaps the worst of all. They had been friends once, back when his father was the Head Archivist and the two of them had spent days running through the shelves and causing both their parents more headaches than they were worth. She had smiled back then. They both had.

Things changed when Simon’s father passed.

Things changed when Aria’s father wasn’t chosen to replace him.

Simon averted his eyes, hoping he would appear extremely interested in the book of maps on the shelf before him. Maybe he would look like he was preparing for a long journey and very invested in travel routes. Unlikely— when was the last time he had left the Capital? It didn’t matter all that much how well his story fit. Aria did not move her attention away from the papers on the table. It was doubtful that she even knew he was there.

He should talk to her. Ask her what she was studying. Ask if she needed any help with it. That she would even acknowledge him was debatable, but Simon really ought to try.

It was just that if she didn’t respond, he wasn’t sure what to do.

No. No, he should just do it. It didn’t matter if she ignored him or even if she was cold with him. It wasn’t as if that would make this nonexistent relationship worse. Simon smoothed his jacket and raised his eyes.

When a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and a strong chest pressed against his back, pulling him close in a tight grip, the squeak that fell from Simon’s lips was not dignified. He shouldn’t have been surprised by it, but every single time, it made his heart jump into his throat.

”Isa—Your Highness, stop that.”

There was a whine behind him and the arms around Simon’s abdomen squeezed tighter for a moment. “I want to see you.” His voice was not befitting the quiet of the archives.

At the sound of it, Aria looked up. Her eyes were cold blue and intense, staring directly at him, watching as he squirmed in the arms of the fourth prince.

Simon’s cheeks burned, writhing until he was out of the man’s hold. He spun on his heels to face him, brows narrowed.

”Your Highness, you’re supposed to be practicing right now.”

The man pouted, pursing a pink lip. His eyes were so bright and full of obvious adoration, like an ocean threatening to run over with the tides. Rusty curls sat atop his head and framed sharp cheekbones. “I only practice for you. You know I don’t care about magic stuff.”

Simon did know that. But that didn’t mean that Isador should just be neglecting his lessons. “Your Highness—“

”Don’t call me that. It’s weird.” He tilted his head, as if genuinely confused. Knowing Isador, he probably was.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re in public. You can’t keep doing this sort of thing. People are going to talk.” They weren’t little kids anymore. Isador following him around like a lost puppy was alright when they were ten. Him clinging to Simon’s side was okay then. Sneaking up behind him and grabbing him when he was in his place of work wasn’t.

”But no one’s in here.”

Simon looked over his shoulder and sighed. Aria was gone. He leaned against the shelf behind him, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. “Why are you here, Isador?”

”I already told you. I want to see you. And my family wants you to come to dinner.”

If it was just Isador asking him, it would be easier to decline. He could say that he was needed in the basement for a project, or claim he wasn’t feeling well and needed to go directly home. But if Isador’s family requested him, there was nothing to be done. Denying the royal family’s invitation wasn’t something that a man of his position could do. He had hoped he could stop by after work to see Gris and Chalice, but…

”Fine. Let me talk with Mari first.”

Isador nodded excitedly, following close behind him.

Simon extended a hand, raising it toward the man. “No. You stay. The fewer people in the basement, the better.” That wasn’t a lie. The rooms down there were a labyrinth and he doubted Isador would navigate something like that well. And with how broad his shoulders were and how tall he was, he always seemed to bump into things. There were too many delicate things for him to break.

And having a moment to prepare himself for this dinner without the man staring at him like that would be the only thing keeping Simon functional for the next hour.

He rounded the corner, making his way down the old stone stairs. The entire ambiance of the upstairs floors of the archives could feel dark from the deep gray walls and rich wooden tables and shelves, but there were ample lights and beautiful, ornate windows that took up the entire height of the walls. The basement, however, was truly an abyss. With so few people down there, the lamps were kept mostly unlit except in the areas where people were actively tending to the works. No windows let in light.

Simon walked the first rows of shelves without issue, even in the dim light. It was familiar by now. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small brass key. It slotted in easily to the door at the end of the room and he shivered as the cool air hit him. This room was darker, except for the bright glow of a lamp in the corner.

”Mari?” he asked carefully, maneuvering his way through the room. It was so quiet here that his voice echoed off the stone walls. The shelves were tall and imposing here, with glass cases nestled within them, housing small and large artifacts. They were difficult to see in the dark, but he knew each of them well.

”Yes, Simon?” A woman’s voice responded gently from the corner.

Simon stepped forward, careful not to brush against anything in the compact space between the shelves. “His Highness asked me to join the royal family for dinner. Do you mind if I leave a bit early? I finished the alphabetizing upstairs, and—“ He paused, finding the woman seated on the cool stone floor, contorted into a strange shape as she hunched over a piece of paper with her pen in hand. Ink stained the side of her hand and her cheek. “Do you need help with anything?”

The woman straightened, smoothing her trousers as she rose. “If the royal family is asking for your presence, that takes priority. The project you’re on right now can wait. It isn’t important.”

Simon grimaced. “You’re certain you don’t need assistance?”

At that, Mari smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling. “You’re trying to get out of it.”

Simon shook his head. “Of course not. You just seem very busy working on… sketches?” The paper beneath her contained a detailed drawing of the crown that rested in the clear glass case beside her.

”I know His Highness can be energetic, but he really does adore you, you know,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s good for you to have fun with people who like you. If the royal family wants to show you their favor, you should be appreciative of it.”

Simon nodded, eyes locked on her hand. “It isn’t that I don’t appreciate it.”

Mari frowned. “I know. They may not. Be sure to show your gratitude.” She clasped her hands before her. “Is he waiting for you?”

Simon nodded again. Isador always waited for him.

”Go, then. Be here early in the day and I will show you what I want you working on next.”

”Right. Thank you, Mari.” Simon bowed his head and she waved him off.

He wished that the walk back was longer.