"I wasn't watching you sleep," Elias said. His jaw tightened a little as he leaned an elbow on the table. "You dozed off in the carriage, drooling all over me, and I had to carry you to bed."
Lyra tilted her head, narrowing her eyes with a suspicious look. "Did you… cup a feel?" She leaned in closer, whispering the last part as if the walls might be listening. Her brows arched dramatically, her eyes glittering with fake scandal. "Hmm? Tell me…did you get handsy while I was unconscious?"
He looked bewildered for a beat too long.
Lyra gasped, her entire face a picture of mock betrayal. "You cupped a feel!!!"
Elias rubbed his temple slowly, as if physically massaging patience into his skull. "I don't even know what that means."
Lyra scoffed and jabbed a finger at her chest. "You touched my—" she paused, glancing down at her own modest cleavage and then back up at him, her finger now aggressively circling in the general boob region. "—these!"
Elias leaned back in his chair, and then he smirked. "Why would I… cup a feel," he said slowly, dragging out the words, "when you were asleep, when I got to do that while you were awake and naked in my arms?"
Lyra's jaw dropped. Her hands flew up to her. "You said you didn't look!!!"
"Pay attention," Elias replied, with the dry tone of a man giving a lecture. "I said I didn't look. Doesn't mean I didn't… cup a feel."
Lyra groaned, covering her face with both hands and waving him off. "Okay—stop. You say it weird."
"I said it just how you said it," Elias argued, folding his arms and leaning back smugly.
"No, no, no—you're saying it all elegant, like it's some fancy technique from a Jane Austen boudoir scene. You're putting too much flair into it!" She mimicked him dramatically, tossing her hair and doing her best royal voice: "'I didn't look, dear madam, but I may have cupped a feel.' Ew! See?"
Elias tried to suppress his grin, but it was creeping onto his face with alarming confidence. "I don't think it's the phrase that's bothering you. I think it's the memory."
"You're impossible," she muttered, though her lips were twitching with a smile she tried to hide behind her teacup.
"You're dramatic," Elias countered, leaning forward just slightly.
"I'm traumatized," Lyra shot back, shaking her head but laughing now.
Elias groaned, running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. "You really do talk a lot."
Lyra's jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Oh screw you."
"See?" he said, gesturing at her as if she'd just made his point for him. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You talk like a bard on a sugar high."
"And I have no idea what you say half the time," he continued, narrowing his eyes. "How can it be that we both speak English but every word that comes out of your mouth sounds like gibberish? It's like your tongue is moving and your brain's just along for the ride."
Lyra gasped and pointed a dramatic finger at him. "See! Mean to me!!!" she shouted, scandalized by his complete lack of basic human decency.
Elias raised both hands in surrender, though the smirk creeping onto his face completely betrayed his fake attempt at diplomacy. "Okay…okay…I'll say only nice things from now on," he said, chuckling under his breath.
Yup… Lirae and Lyra… definitely different people.
"Come on," he said, gesturing for her to follow. "Let's visit the library."
*****
When Elias had said "library," Lyra had expected something modest. She had not expected this.
She stepped through the towering double doors. Her jaw dropped. She spun in a slow circle, drinking in the sight of hundreds of thousands of books. Shelves stretched up to the high-vaulted ceiling, so tall they disappeared into shadow. Stained-glass windows bathed the space in soft light, giving it the sacred aura of a cathedral.
"I could live here all my life," Lyra whispered in awe, her eyes wide with wonder.
Elias arched an eyebrow, watching her as she stood there. "So you like to read then?" he asked, already knowing the answer but oddly curious to hear it in her own words.
"Yes!" she replied, practically bouncing on her heels as he led her deeper into the labyrinth of shelves. "Books were my escape growing up. I am a book editor.."
"I guess there is one attractive thing about you then," Elias said casually, tossing the comment over his shoulder.
Lyra stopped walking and narrowed her eyes. "Hold up. One attractive thing?"
He turned slightly, an amused look dancing on his lips.
"Wasn't it just a few minutes ago you promised to be nice to me?" Lyra whined, drawing out the last word.
Elias didn't even bother looking at her. He was already scanning a shelf lined with books thick enough to serve as murder weapons. "I was being nice," he said. "I said there's one attractive thing about you."
He picked up a volume, speaking the words casually.
Lyra blinked at him. "One? You consider one a pass mark?" she shot back. "Your bar must be really looooow." She sang the last word, leaning against the shelf dramatically.
Elias smirked, finally glancing over his shoulder. "Or really high," he said smoothly, raising a brow before returning his attention to the books.
He finally came to a stop in front of a weathered section labeled The Great Purge, his fingers brushing over the gold-lettered spines. Lyra noticed how careful he was with the books. It was annoyingly endearing.
He pulled out a particularly massive tome, and Lyra's eyes widened. "Wow," she said. "That's big. We have to read all of that?"
"No," Elias said casually, without turning. "We have to read all of that," he added, gesturing to the entire row of books.
Lyra followed the motion and stared at the endless wall of parchment death.
"Damn," she muttered, her face twisting. "That's some great purge."
"It was," Elias said grimly, flipping open the first book and letting the ancient paper rustle.