The dust motes danced in the pale candlelight, looking like tiny, suspended spirits as Cherion reached for yet another leather-bound monster on the shelf. His fingers brushed against a spine that felt like cold, pebbled skin, only for a much larger, much more calloused hand to materialize beside his own. With an effortless flick of the wrist, the book was plucked from its perch.
Zarius didn't even have to stand on his tiptoes. Show-off.
"Thought you said you weren't here to help," Cherion muttered, snagging the heavy volume as the Duke handed it over. He couldn't help the little smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Changed our minds already, have we? Or is the brooding-in-the-corner business getting a bit boring?"
