[ Perhaps she'll find his name less difficult to say aloud one day, but he doesn't press it.
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?
no subject
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?