Ress was a pleasant distraction from the true task at hand, and once he was finishing servicing her like the good footman he was, they parted ways with promises of an encore later that evening.

Maize hoped she could stay awake that long.

After dressing and fixing her hair, she once again found herself on her way to the library. The castle's main foyer was much quieter since the day before. Where so many people were running about trying to make everything perfect for the Prince's arrival, while just as many trying to get a peek at what was going on, so few seemed to be loitering about when it came time to dismantle tables and staging for such a joyous occasion.

And with such a joyous occasion came many drinks, and chances were many of them were still in bed sleeping off their wine. One thing Maize had learned from her years of taking her herbs was that alcohol and the drugs did not mix well, and she would never have more than one a day, if she even finished that. Many times it was for show- people didn't ask why you weren't drinking if you had a glass in your hand. Especially when she was on missions, she needed to keep a level head, and none more than this one needed her complete focus.

She turned towards the doors to the gardens, remember her dancing with Laris. How many knew that the prince had been in the library the entire time they prepared for his ball? Was he one of the onlookers trying to surmise what his father would have in store for him? After hearing Laris' tale of growing up, she was grateful for the lack of family she now had, despite their demise. Less room for drama, when enough damage had already been done...

And like the day before, the library was peacefully quiet with few to no other people in it.

Or rather, almost no other people in it.

Because just like the day before, in exactly the same location, she came across Laris looking in what appeared to be shelf as the day before.

Unlike her, however, he looked as if he hadn't bathed or changed out of what he was wearing the night before. The shirt was still a wrinkled mess and his hair looked like it could use a few runs of a comb.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he mused as he looked up from the book between his hands. "People may start to suspect."

"What, that we both enjoy..." She glanced up at the titles of the books on the nearby shelf. "Ancient and long-dead playwrights?"

"Oh, the scandal." He closed the book and returned it to the shelf. "Are you here to practice The Spectre's Vow as well?"

"I'm surprised you don't already know it by heart."

"Knowing it and performing it are two separate things."

She gave him a curious look.

Chuckling he moved closer. "I know some of the players attending the performance. Whether my father likes it or not, I'm going to be participating. In my mother's memory."

"But the players are masked- he won't know it's you."

"Not until the show is over, which will make it even better."

Maize scoffed, looking up at the books rather than allowing her gaze to take in every detail of Laris across the way. "So you're here practicing your lines?"

"Trying to."

"Not going as well as you'd like."

"It would be easier with a partner."

She let her gaze drop to him at that.

"Do you have something better to do?" he asked with a smirk.

She opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. Telling the prince that she'd rather research the Legacy than help him read lines weren't exactly the best way to remain in his favor, and perhaps she'd be able to take the time to find out what, if anything, he may know about it.

"Truth be told, I was coming to see if you would be here," she admitted. Not a lie.

"Then it looks as though we both win." The smile he gave her was too perfect. Too charming. She wasn't going to fall for it.

Not as she watched him walk back down the row of books, watched his ass with each step, watched the muscles of his back work as he reached up for the book. Or how open the front of his shirt was as he walked back to her, revealing a chiseled chest beneath while the book hugged in his arms.

No, she wasn't going to fall for it at all.

"I know the perfect place," he announced as he walked past her. He smelled like spruce and campfires- had she not noticed that the night before?

Quietly she followed him up a narrow spiral staircase that led to the library's third floor, which had just as many rows of shelves like the one below it. Here, however, closer to the vaulted ceiling, there were more alcoves, almost secluded from the remainder of the space, complete with a window and two chaises in each. Whoever orchestrated the modeling of such a space knew exactly what they were doing...

"My mother designed this library," Laris said, almost dreamily as he led her to one such alcove.

She hated feeling like her thoughts were never her own when she was with him. It put her on a higher alert, especially when she considered once again the true purpose of being there.

"How did she gather so many books?"

"Most were from her personal collection, many were gifts and tokens from visiting diplomats over the years. My father at least had the sense to maintain its upkeep. Visitors still donate books in her honor. I should find out who's been tasked with organizing them all this time and send them my personal thanks."

"Do you think you'll stay, now that you're here, and upkeep it yourself?"

"Well that is a rather forward question from a courtier," he said with a glance and a smirk.

Maize only shrugged. "You said yourself you were not of an age where your father could no longer tell you where to go or what to do. Why not remain and look after the library yourself?"

"Are you looking to remain my courtier just a little longer?"

"My Prince, I will remain your loyal courtier for as long as you'll have me."

"Be careful what you wish for," he said with a devious smile. She wished she could have told him that once he discovered why she was really there, he wouldn't want her for much longer.

Laris sat down on a chaise, handing her the book and motioning for her to sit on the one across from him. "Are you familiar with The Spectre's Vow?"

"Only as much as your mother's memory allows," she said softly. She gave him a small smile, hoping her ruse worked. In truth, she once had to read it during her schooling because it was the Queen's favorite play, and all students needed to know it. She wasn't lying when she told Ress it bored her- in fact, she loathed it. But she wasn't about to tell Laris that, not as he sat there, watching her expectantly as she opened the book to play.

"Which part are you playing?" she asked as she flipped through the pages.

"Bazon Rocheforte."

"The lover the spectre murders?"

"Has a certain poetic justice to it, don't you think."

"There's no way your father is going to allow that."

"As I said, since the whole cast is masked, he'll never know until the curtain falls."

"Or if someone else on the cast is paid off to let him know."

"Not if I've paid them more." Laris winked.

Shaking her head, Maize returned her attention to the text in her lap. "Where should we begin?"

"Act Two, the third scene."

Maize began reading the lines to prompt Laris to respond, and the dialogue carried on without hesitation. Oftentimes it seemed he was restraining himself to the chaise rather than jumping out of his seat to begin pantomiming his scenes. He said he needed practice, but as far as Maize could tell he was a natural performer. She suspected one had to be when you were the prince, and chances were he was playing a part with her as much as he was acting for the play.

But weren't they all playing their parts with one another? Maize would never be a courtier, or a lady, and would never have a life at court. And in less than two weeks, she'd be nothing short of a memory for Laris, if he even cared to remember her that long.

It was nice, though. Playing this part. Being someone Laris wanted to spend his time with, even if it was to help him practice his role in pissing off his father. Even if it was to be a courtier hired to serve and service him as he so requested. It could have been worse. He could have been worse. He could have been more like-

"What in Hellas are you doing here?"

Maize stood so fast, the book clambered to the floor.

Forge looked down at her with a rage in his eyes so intense it could have burned. Dressed in the formal robes and stately attire of his position, he looked far more formidable than the man she first met on that rooftop.

"I didn't bring you here so you could waste your time reading the day away," he snarled. "You are here with a purpose and you best remember what that is."

"As far as I can tell, she's doing exactly what she was brought here to do," Laris interjected as he rose smoothly from his chaise.

By the surprised look on his face and by how quickly he seemed to pale, Forge didn't seem to notice the prince before his outburst. "My Prince..."

"Lawson Forge," Laris answered, frowning. "Will you please let me know why you are speaking to Maizelyn as such?"

"I, I didn't mean-" Forge stammered and Maize refrained from smirking. "I merely wished that she was performing her duties correctly, for your benefit as she is here to serve you and not reading in the library."

"But it was I who asked her to join me in the library, and as one does in the library, they read. You, on the other hand, I did not ask to be in the library."

"Yes, I understand that, however-"

"However you wanted to take it upon yourself, as a lesser advisor, to advise one of my courtiers what they should or should not be doing?"

"My prince, I meant no offense-"

"I'm not offended. But I believe Maizelyn may be, and it's to her you owe your apology."

Forge's ears had turned scarlet and his attention returned to Maize. This time, she allowed that smirk to play along her lips. Yes, she had a part to play, and she was rather enjoying this one now. With Laris by her side, receiving his undivided attention, Forge wouldn't dare lay a finger on her, or have anyone else do so either.

"Apologies.... for my intrusion... Lady Maizelyn."

She cleared her throat before speaking, swallowing down the cackle that wanted to escape. "Your apology is accepted, Lawson Forge. In the future, you can seek out my footman who will be more than available to assist you in any way possible."

Something flashed behind Forge's eyes that Maize did not like. Something sinister that made her feel as though mentioning Ress was the last thing she should have done.

It seemed Laris caught sight of it too, and his tone no longer had the mocking tone. It became harder- the voice of a prince. "You're dismissed, Forge."

"Of course my prince," he murmured, but his gaze lingered on Maize longer than it should have. "Lady Maizelyn."

She nodded her dismissal and watched him leave through the maze of bookshelves.

"If Forge has any sense left, he won't bother you again."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

"He has no jurisdiction here, as much as he thinks he does." Laris bent down and picked up the fallen book. "It would have to be an infraction no smaller than treason for anything that Forge says to carry any weight."

She so wanted to tell the prince that in two weeks' time, that's exactly the infraction Forge could use against them.