The castle library was a universe by itself. Daliya had never seen that many books in one setting. It was even larger than her university’s library. Orbs of light ran along the giant shelves, casting a soft glow over the leather bindings. The ceiling was made of clear glass shaped into an ice crystal that reflected the pale sky beyond.

  Haitham moved around the towering shelves, inspecting each title. He collected a handful and deposited them on the table in the middle. Daliya took one book from the pile and riffled through its pages. She scrunched her nose at the fine dust and musty smell wafting from its yellow pages. Just how old were these books?

  He paused before shooting her a curious look.

  “Can you even read?”

  “What?” She frowned. What did he mean by that?

  “It just dawned on me that I dragged you here without asking.” He shook his head, his lips twisted with displeasure. “This could be a problem if you’re illiterate.”

  Daliya balked at him. Her grip tightened on the book, her fingers digging into its leathery cover.

  That little…

  “I’m not illiterate! I learned to read and write back in kindergarten.” She snapped. “Back when I was a child,” she added when his brows furrowed in confusion.

  “Yes, well… can you read this world’s written language?” he asked slowly.

  “Oh.”

  She felt heat traveling up her neck towards her face. So that was what he meant. She cleared her throat, glancing to the side. Really, he should clarify himself next time. She nearly hit him upside the head with the book.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, can you?”

  She nodded. “Yes, like I can understand what you’re saying right now without having to learn it. I can tell from this language’s written symbols that our worlds are not speaking the same language. Yet, somehow, I can not only understand it but also read it.”

  He pinched his chin, thoughtful. “Much like your powers. It must have stayed with the original’s body.” He shot her a smile. “Perfect! Now we can proceed to the next step without worry.”

  He took hold of her shoulders and steered her towards the chair. “Read these before the end of the week.” He motioned to the pile of books.

  She gawked at the mountain of paper towering over her. There was too much! Even her studies didn’t require that much reading!

  Seeing her horrified look, he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you company.” He winked. “Stop dawdling. There isn’t much time before dinner. I’m starving.”

  Daliya shot him a glare, then opened the first book.

  For the next couple of days, it became their new routine. Every morning, she would sit hunched over the sea of books, reading about theoretical knowledge about powers and how to access them. Some bore good information, while others seemed to be written by people who had never wielded any power a day in their lives.

  Powers were grouped into two categories: Elemental essence, or powers granted by the lands where one resided, and Aether essence.

  Elemental powers were divided into four categories: Ice, Fire, Earth, and Wind. There once were four great kingdoms, their inhabitants mainly wielders of the same powers. But now, only the skeletal remains of two kingdoms remained—the Nawsan kingdom in the far north and Ma’arib’s ravaged lands in the South—Haitham’s birthplace. Ardun and Ryah—the Earthen Kingdom and the Kindom of the Wind, respectively— had been long destroyed before the princess’s birth.

  Still, those lands still granted their inhabitants their powers. An Ice power Wielder would be much more powerful in the frozen lands. A Fire Bearer would be unstoppable in the red desert. And an Earth Shaker would be unbeatable in the lands that were once a refuge to the Akal Kindom.

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  Then came the Aether essence. No one knows where they came from, but old texts say the Creator himself granted them to certain individuals and that those powers were inherited upon the death of the previous wielder. If the owner of such powers didn’t appoint a successor, the Aether Essence, the power would be lost, never to be wielded again. Some already came to pass.

  Nothing much was said about Aether powers. There was a small section about Seers and the madness disease that eventually inflicted most of them—Daliya shivered as an image of the Seer’s unseeing eyes flashed before her eyes—and another even smaller section about Soul Masters.

  Nothing much is known about Soul Masters. Only rumors and legends had been passed down amongst the Northerners. Some say they can tell a person’s true nature just with a glance, while others claim they have seen them bring a person back from the clutch of death. While it’s a widespread tale, it remains nothing but a myth.

  Daliya frowned at the words. Haitham had said he could see her soul, that it was how he figured she wasn’t the princess. Maybe he was a soul master? If so, would he be willing to share his secrets with her?

  The next book she read was so outrageous she nearly smacked Haitham’s sleeping head with its heavy, leathery binds.

  It referred to magic users as abominations, beings against nature, creatures bent on destroying the balance of the world and bringing it down to its knees.

  Harboring an abomination is against the law and punishable by death.

  Citizens are required to notify the Imperial Knight’s order of any and every suspicious person. Failure to do so is punishable by law.

  What else was punishable by law? Breathing?

  Daliya snorted. Wouldn’t that be enough to forfeit the emperor’s life?

  Didn’t the other books specify that they were born with these powers? Why was the empire punishing people for something out of their control?

  Daliya sighed. She leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. After hours of reading, the intricate words had started chasing her around even when her eyes were closed. Heck, they were inside her dreams—twisted little monsters nipping at the back of her heels.

  She tossed the book to the side and opened another heavy volume about the lies of Wind Walkers. It spoke of an intricate web of lies the Elementalists had drowned the people in to ensure their obedience. Talks about calamities and divine retributions brought about by people’s greed for power. After all she had read, Daliya could only regard what was written with apprehension.

  Whole sections were speaking about how they had spread fear and terror, whispering into the ears of vulnerable humans prophecies of the end times.

  Daliya paused. Haitham had said the same thing back at the windmill. She had heard him utter that exact word.

  Prophecy.

  But when she asked him later, he looked at her and blatantly changed the subject, refusing to answer.

  That infuriating man.

  She took a sip of her cup. She grimaced as the hot chocolaty beverage, courtesy of Adyl, the head butler, had long turned cold. She sighed, staring mournfully at her cup.

  The animosity between Adyl and Haitham had died down a notch, but not by much. The old man still glared at the assassin as if all the world’s misfortune were products of his deliberate schemes. Daliya had yet to root out the reason for this. She had asked Haitham, but the latter had merely shrugged, refusing to elaborate further.

  Speaking of which…

  She shot a glare at Haitham’s slumped form. He was leaning on the couch, an opened book covering his snoring face. If she had to guess where his reading had progressed, she would estimate it to be in the single digits. His chest rose softly with each breath he took. The book slipped an inch as his head shifted, his sleepy sigh muffled by the rotting paper sheets.

  She scowled at him. Here she was, suffering while he was lost in dreamland. She took the abandoned quill by her side and threw it at his head. His hand reached into the air, snatching it before it could make contact with the book bindings. The book slid to his lap, abandoned, as he blinked blearily at the offending object.

  Daliya smiled. “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

  “That’s quite the slip.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged.

  “At least I’m not deep in slumber like a certain someone.”

  He sent her an innocent look. “Who? Me? I wasn’t sleeping. I was merely resting my eyes.”

  She scoffed. “Right.”

  He glanced down at his lap.”Heh. Someone must have cast a spell on this book. I fall asleep the second I touch it. Want to take a break?”

  Daliya shot to her feet, the chair clattering behind her. Haitham laughed.

  “Oh, shut it. You don’t know how hard it is to spend the whole day staring at these yellow papers. I didn’t study this much back home.” She could feel the heat traveling up her neck and reaching her cheek.

  He shot her a lopsided grin. “Alright. We’ll take a break tomorrow. We wouldn’t want Her Highness to get cranky, now, would we?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You mean I’ll take a break. You’ve done nothing besides sleeping.”

  He put his hand over his chest, an exaggerated scandalized look on his face. “What do you mean by nothing? I’m your emotional support!”

  She scoffed but allowed a small smile to pull at her lips.