When Mika first stepped inside, he instinctively thought that with all those dozens of floating eyes in jars, he'd be caught instantly.
There were at least twenty of them circling lazily in the dim glow—drifting near the ceiling, hovering over piles of parchment, even tucked between open law tomes.
'Surely...' He thought. '...the moment I walk in, they'll all swivel and stare at me.'
But nothing happened.
Not a single eye turned. Not one hand paused in its scribbling.
Anya was so absorbed in her work that the entire library might as well have ceased to exist outside her lamp's circle of light.
Mika's lips curved into a faint smile.
This wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this. It reminded him of the countless evenings years ago when he'd call both Fauna and Anya for dinner and get no response at all.
No matter how loud he knocked or called their names, they'd be completely lost in their world of research—Fauna with her medical notes, and Anya with her papers.
