This story is part of the Wanderer series.
Night fell. Long shadows flickered across the bookshelves. Karin sat on one side of the study floor, hunched, her back facing the shelves, one leg propped up, an arm on top, the other leg stretched out, the other hand on top of a closed book resting on her lap. She blankly stared through slit eyes at the scattered mess on the carpeted floor. The books she violently shoved off the table. A candletray was set on the floor in front of her, wavering as its candle burned through its final length of the stick. The otherwise dark room was dimly illuminated by the low crescent moon crawling up the window wall, accompanied by a few stars and clouds.
Soft padded steps echoed from the other side of the room. A stretch of warm light followed, sweeping across the wall to the locked door. Around the shelf, Alisan appeared with her own candle, a large blanket draped over her shoulders, running all the way to the floor. As she emerged, her head was already focused in the direction of the other candle, and although she found what she expected, there was a brief moment of hesitation, her steps coming to a pause. She instinctively recoiled, shoulders drawing in, as if something was going to come hurling her way.
However, seeing the princess pay her no heed, she soon enough moved forward, albeit slower, towards the center of the room, towards the table. The princess’ blade was still cleanly lodged there, its edge and surface gleaming from the two candlelights. Alisan paused there again, cautiously gazing at Karin, yet with a bit of ease this time.
“It’s getting late. Won’t your family be worried about you?”
The princess did not answer. She continued to stare blankly at the candle in front of her for a while. Receiving nothing but silence, Alisan shifted a foot uncomfortably, her expression weakening to uncertainty before Karin finally replied.
“I spend my nights here sometimes.”
Hearing her response, Alisan relaxed. “… I see…”
Silence fell again as Karin said nothing more. Eventually, with a silent breath in, Alisan ventured further forward, around the table, exposing a clear opening between her and the princess. Seeing the previous animosity gone, the disregardance of her concerns now replaced by proper acknowledgement, she dared to approach, to make herself more present in her company.
Again, Karin paid her no heed as she slowly walked around the scattered books over to the other side of the princess. Curving right towards the shelf, Alisan stopped again, lazily turning around to face the room. Clasping together the ends of the blanket on her shoulders with her free hand, she crouched down to the floor. Setting her candletray besides the other, she then eased back against the shelf, sitting down next to the princess with half a body width of space between them.
“Sleep in your bed,” the princess softly commanded.
The rejection led Alisan to gently smile, dipping her eyes and shaking her head once. She settled in, withdrawing her knees and further enveloping herself with her blanket, even as Karin continued.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing you’re still here by yourself.”
There was a growing familiarity to the princess’ words. Not confrontational. Just defensive, wounded. The words of someone in need. With confidence swelling in her chest, Alisan put her fingers on the floor and scooched closer to Karin, halving the gap. When the princess did not respond, despite this invasion, she raised her left arm up, unwrapping the blanket and lifting it like a curtain. Shifting forward a bit to pull out the excess length of the blanket, folded underneath her from when she sat down, she leaned sideways and slipped the blanket behind the princess’ hunched back, letting go to let it fall loosely on her shoulders.
Karin lightly pinched her brows, appearing annoyed at her humiliating treatment. Yet, her body remained unresponsive. Not flinching, not retreating, not lashing out. Pulling her arm back in with one last satisfied glance, Alisan returned her eyes forward and leaned back again, pulling the remaining end of the blanket further up towards her neck to wrap around her legs. Resting her head on the shelf behind, she raised her eyes to the ceiling, gazing at its starry mural. A meticulous map of the northern sky. She gazed at it for a while, admiring its breadth. If it were not for its zoomed-out scale and the candlelight tinting it unnaturally warm, it was as if the room had no ceiling, exposing it to the open night sky.
“You’re… really lucky, you know.”
Karin blinked, her forehead pinching further. “… What makes you say that?”
“You have this… all to yourself.”
Her head rolled leftwards, drifting with her eyes as they lowered to the shelves of books and scrolls. Eyes narrowing, her eyelids flickered several times. Her voice was gradually softening as she sunk deeper into her shoulders.
“It’s something I… always wished for as a kid… To… have a library… just like the other collectors.”
She parted her lips, but they stayed still. Nothing came out. They closed a moment later, her nose breathing out. Eyelids growing heavy, she let them close briefly, sporadically bringing them back open as if she was not ready to let go of the room. After doing this a few times with great effort, she finally allowed them to shut and stay shut. Soon enough, her breaths slowed to a steady rhythm.
Karin did not notice her slumber. With the afforded silence, she returned to deep thought for a long while. It was not until Alisan’s head, having leaned it to one side, gradually tipped over and onto her shoulder when Karin realized the extended absence. Without so much of a movement, the princess glanced toward the green-haired girl’s direction. Unable to see much of the girl out of the corner of her eyes, she finally allowed her head to turn just enough to verify the nomad’s resting state. There was no surprise in her weary eyes. No agitation. No intrigue. A simple, observant gaze, not too dissimilar to one glancing at a clock.
A little longer, the princess gazed. Watched the girl gently breathe in and out. Her peaceful expression, despite the light shade under her eyes from her earlier tears. The princess took in the light weight against her. The unusually localized warmth on her shoulders. It was a repulsive feeling, yet familiar. A familiar feeling she turned away long ago. Repulsive because she had deemed it a weakness.
The rising confliction eventually drew Karin to look away, back towards the candlelight. Yet, over there, she was provided little escape, finding another companion she was blind to before. A freshly lit candle stick sitting in its own tray next to hers, short and almost exhausted in its own wax. This time, however, instead of searching for another exit, Karin confronted them. Watched them, flickering together. Imagined them playing together. Looking out for each other. Her, looking up to the back shoulder silhouetted by the golden sky.
“Is this what it is like to have a little sister?” she thought to herself.
Leaning back, finally changing her posture, Karin rested against the shelf, padded by the blanket on her shoulder, and looked upwards at the dark study room. This space that she had all to herself. A space she carefully curated over the years, studying, devising, planning. Easing her head, she flicked her eyes back down, letting them gaze aimlessly forward, and closed them.