The armchairs by the tall windows were almost always empty.
Too far from the entrance. Too isolated.
Perfect for anyone who wanted to be left alone.
Perhaps that was exactly why she found him there.
The library rested in an unusual silence, broken only by the distant rustle of turning pages and the soft crackle of a fireplace somewhere beyond the shelves.
He leaned back slightly against the armchair. One leg stretched out. The other bent. An open book resting across his lap.
He didn’t seem to be studying. He wasn’t taking notes. He wasn’t filling parchment after parchment.
Just someone sitting in an armchair.
Unhurried. Without looking up.
As if he had no idea he had become the main topic of conversation for half the Academy.
He didn’t seem interested in attention at all.
And perhaps that was exactly the problem.