Only the rustle of pages and brief whispers usually disturbed the quietness of Castro's Grand Library. A few officials who received admission were solely focused on finding information for their work. None of them attempted to start a conversation with royal family members in Spiral Hall. A respectful greeting was sufficient for both parties to be satisfied.

  The princess tapped her forefinger on the table a few times. The library was a suitable place to meet so far. It would have been even better if César weren't here now. Her brother never was a bookworm. He went to classes and did assignments, but she found it difficult to see him going to the library just to read for pleasure. In fact, Cornelia would have been less surprised to find him in a back street bar with ordinary people. At least he could pick up girls there. But here he was, sitting across from her with a bottle of wine and a glass. Another bottle, already empty, was left under his chair. None of the officials who briefly attended the Spiral Hall commented on his behavior. As if they didn't see the bottles, as long as he also had a book. The one in front of him was thick and quite old by the look of its cover. He looked at the book carefully and turned a few pages forward.

  Cornelia returned to the paper in front of her. She skimmed through the content again, then tapped her forefinger again. A clinking sound echoed throughout all eight floors of the Spiral Hall each time César placed the glass on the table. The prince looked up at the glass dome - it let in enough sunlight for reading but also created excellent acoustics.

  "Was it really necessary to bring liquor to the library?"

  The prince leaned back in his chair. With a familiar gesture, he ran his fingers through his blond hair. His full attention was now on his sister, as if he was waiting for this moment.

  "It helps me understand the content. And judging by the fact you are still not done with your work, you also need some. But wait, I forgot. You can't drink yet. Sorry," with a wide grin on his face, César emptied the glass in one gulp.

  "What a childish thing to be proud of. I will be eighteen in a few months."

  The princess glanced at the partly written answer she was trying to compose. She had finished long ago, but César's presence irritated her. Frowning, the girl took the letter out of her pocket and read it. In the worst case, she would just finish writing her answer in her room. But if César was still there when Dietrich arrived, that could cause unnecessary questions. Gossips always surrounded royal families in all countries. Although they had been friends for almost five years, her closeness with a young knight might be considered indecent by sharp tongues, visiting officials, and ultimately by the press. To prevent a situation that could compromise them both, instead of inviting Dietrich into her chambers, Cornelia arranged a meeting in the Grand Library. Only to face another kind of problem in the form of her brother.

  César stared at the letter in her hands. The book he had been reading was completely forgotten while it only a few seconds for him to fill his glass.

  "I must give you credit - you have patience for these things."

  "Humankind has written letters throughout history," replied Cornelia, without sparing him a glance. "It's not that difficult, even you can do it."

  "Writing is not the problem. The waiting for an answer is the problem."

  Cornelia looked at her brother—César was twiddling the glass in his hand, staring at the straw-yellow liquid. She didn't answer, partly hoping this would put an end to the pointless conversation. But César continued.

  "I keep wondering how our ancestors could have been so shortsighted not to bring pigeons with them?"

  The princess let out a sigh and placed the letter on the table.

  "I suppose they could not predict that they would lose the high-speed communication they were used to. Would you take a rock with you if you already have a gun?"

  "But they did not expect to use horse-drawn transportation, yet they took horses with them, anyway."

  "This and that are different. Humans like horses. They took them for leisure, but you know that very well yourself."

  "Praise them for that. It would be a disaster to walk such distances or use bulls." César raised a glass and drank a bit. "Still, waiting for an answer for weeks is killing me."

  A sudden conversation about obsolete communication means and transportation took Cornelia by surprise. Perhaps her brother was one of those people who, when drunk, tend to ask sophisticated questions. Then again, she had never drunk with him.

  "Yes, it would be great to get faster replies in daily life."

  The day when radio went silent happened during the early stages of the war. Nymphs did not need radio waves, so they created a magical device to silence the entire land. For humans, it was another tremendous blow. It was as if the lack of natural resources was not enough, and now humanity was thrown back into the era of letters and messengers. Attempts were made to destroy the obstacle, but it appeared that there were several backups deep within the nymph territory. Humankind was already in crisis after the first strike - the destruction of digital data storage and losing almost all highly qualified engineers. Therefore, in order to preserve resources and human lives, the King delayed further operations to reopen communication channels. Time passed, but the necessary resources were never found.

  As if reading his sister's thoughts, César continued to talk. "It makes you wonder whether it was a wise decision for the first King to start a war in the first place. If he had swallowed his pride and accepted a tribute from the nymphs, we might have lived in far better conditions."

  "Just having such doubts speaks volumes about the person who has them. Our ancestors were far more dignified and prouder than a certain someone could ever hope to be."

  "Oh please, I'm not the only one who questions the King's actions. And I can assure you that my thoughts are far more innocent than the kitchen talk of our subjects."

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  While Cornelia was mulling over how to respond to the prince's offensive yet candid words, someone approached them. The siblings were staring at each other, waiting for the intruder to greet them and leave, but it wasn't another clerk after all. As always, Dietrich was dressed to the nines and greeted the royals formally. His softly spoken voice brought the staring contest to an end. The princess grabbed the letter and unfinished reply and nodded to the knight.

  "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but Her Highness wishes to speak with me."

  César grinned. Dietrich's politeness left no room for argument.

  "Of course she did. Well, anyway, I'm out of drinks." The prince shook an empty bottle and placed it under the chair. Cornelia expected him to stand up and walk away, but César instead leaned on the back of his chair and closed his eyes.

  "Don't fall while you're sleeping, brother."

  He didn't reply. Dietrich glanced at the prince. Despite being ignored, he bowed and followed the princess. The passage with bookshelves on one side and balcony railings on the other spiraled up. Even though there were no stairs, it was difficult for some officials to reach the top floor, the eighth floor, so Cornelia was sure they wouldn't bump into anyone on the last floor. And she was right - apart from a lone librarian's assistant on the fifth floor, they met no one else.

  Dietrich was following the princess closely, secretly stealing glances at her.

  "Thank you for inviting me here, Your Highness. It's a rare chance to attend the Spiral Hall."

  "No need for gratitude. Besides, the Grand Library is nothing compared to the one held by Tower scholars, as I hear. Now I regret leaving in such a hurry. Maybe I should've stayed another day at the tower and visited the Underground Library after all."

  "You can do so during the next draw mission or pay them a visit early if you find a suitable excuse. Didn't the letter you were writing have something to do with the tower?" the princess looked at him and Dietrich averted his gaze. "I noticed the address on the envelope."

  Now that they reached the eighth floor, Cornelia looked around to see if anyone was around. They spoke in low voices, but the palace was known for its ears starving for secrets in every corner.

  "Yes, I met someone at the banquet, and we've been corresponding ever since."

  Her words caught the knight off guard. In a flat voice, he asked, "The banquet? But we left before it was held."

  "The welcome banquet, of course. You were with the general most of the time, but I also talked with other delegations and scholars. One of them had some interesting views, so we both wanted to keep in touch. In fact, I'm thinking about inviting her to the capital and offering her a job."

  "Oh! Oh, so it's a woman." Dietrich's sudden reaction, alongside a relieved face, bewildered Cornelia.

  "Well, yes, why does it matter?"

  "No, of course not. It's a good idea." The princess shook her head. "Let's discuss it another time. Nothing is set in stone yet, and we have more important things to talk about. I checked the guard shifts in the armory, but there was nothing suspicious. The only problem is the ledger content. The number of weapons seems to match the entries in the ledger. If the ledger was changed or replaced to hide the missing rifles, it means the smugglers placed a man inside the palace walls, and a high-ranking one at that."

  Dietrich listened carefully, but he couldn't hide his worry.

  "Finding a spy might be difficult without the help of the official investigation. If that's the case, we will have to inform His Majesty and ask for his approval."

  The princess made a wry face.

  "I know, but let's try to avoid it for as long as possible. What about the police investigation? What news do you have?"

  "Unfortunately, the people who were arrested know little about the deal. We don't have any names of the clients, and the storage was rented with fake documents. However, the men who moved the boxes were supposed to pick up another one from a pub."

  "Is there another one?" The news of an additional crate of stolen guns did not please the girl, but the chance to return them and find out who was behind the scheme softened the blow. "What pub?"

  "That's the problem - we don't know. They should have received a name and address, but then the storage was discovered by the police and the broker did not get in touch. We have a list of possible locations." Dietrich took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to the princess. "But the area is crowded with such places, and we are short-staffed. It will take some time."

  "So, we might find the broker and another crate with rifles..."

  The sound of footsteps made the princess quiet. Both looked over the balcony railing. A servant was holding a few books and slowly climbing up to the seventh floor. An involuntary pause helped Cornelia escape the knight's suspicion. ‘He himself said that we don't have enough people to look for it secretly. And he would surely make a fuss if I volunteered to help.’ Observing how the man was returning books to their designated places, one by one, she avoided Dietrich's gaze.

  Several minutes passed while waiting for the servant to leave. When finally they were left alone, Cornelia whispered, "Maybe we should have met at night after all."

  Dietrich's face stiffened.

  "Your Highness, you mean when they release bats?"

  "What's wrong with bats? Are you scared of them?"

  "No, I'm not. But I still prefer avoiding bumping into something so ugly."

  His harsh words towards the beloved and carefully tended library's insect hunters made Cornelia frown. "Bats" or carabus bats were a local species resembling those that humans were familiar with, but with iridescent gold-green fur. They were rare exceptions to the use of new world animals: partly because they were easy to tame, and partly due to Castro's ancestral tradition of keeping them in book storage. The girl crossed her arms over her chest.

  "They help preserve the library's treasures. And I think they are cute."

  The young knight forced a smile.

  "You have the strangest taste, Your Highness."