He knew she’d find the library itself beautiful—the building was very old, the books, parchments, scrolls, tapestries and stone walls contained within dated back thousands of years, but more than that, there were the spaces that had been built in the last fifteen years, during his reign, specifically to make books and reading more accessible to the youth of Ishkana.
This was the last stop on what had been a day filled with formal events. So much polite meeting and greeting, smiling, posing for photographs, and all the while Johara’s features had never shown a hint of strain or discomfort. Not at the proximity to a man who had been, as she claimed, using her as a ‘scapegoat’. Nor in exhaustion from the heat, nor after hours on her feet in dainty high heels that must surely pinch.
Even now, she listened with a rapt expression on her face as his Minister for the Arts explained how the library spaces worked.
Impatience coursed through Amir’s veins. He no longer wanted to stand to the side as she was shown through the library. He wished everyone to leave, so that it was just Johara and him, so that Amir could tell her what he’d hoped when he’d had the rooms built, so that he could tell her his favourite memories of being here in this building. Even when he was a boy, it had been one of his most delighted-in haunts.
‘What an incredible programme,’ she said, almost wistfully, running a finger over the bottom of a windowsill. Beyond them, the classroom was full of children—some of the poorest of Ishkana. Buses were sent each morning to various districts, a bell loudly proclaiming its arrival, giving all children who wished it a chance to get on board.
‘We are working towards universal education,’ Amir found himself saying, moving closer, half closing the Minister for the Arts from the conversation and drawing Johara’s eyes to his. It was only then that a sense of reserve entered her expression—just a hint of caution in the depths of her eyes but enough for him to see it and recognise it. ‘It was a passion of my father’s.’ He took a step down the marble corridor, urging her to follow him. It was impossible not to remember the group that followed them—staff, servants, media—and yet he found himself tuning them out, thinking only of Johara as they walked.
‘Education?’ she prompted, falling into step beside him.
‘Yes. The benefits to the whole country can’t be underestimated.’
‘I agree,’ she said, almost wistfully.
‘This is the state library,’ he continued. ‘So we were limited in the scope of what we could achieve. Naturally there is much here that is protected from too much public access—the oldest texts are stored on the second and third floors and kept out of the way of children.’ His smile was genuine.
She nodded. ‘Naturally.’
‘This is just an example of what we’re prioritising, and serves only the inner-city children. Beyond this, we’ve built twenty-seven libraries in the last decade, starting in the poorest regional communities and working our way up. The libraries aren’t just for books, though. There are computers and tablets, lessons in how to use both, and for the children, six days per week, classes are offered. Book hiring is incentivised, with small tax breaks offered to regular borrowers.’
She gasped. ‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. Really.’
‘What an incredible initiative.’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Reading is a habit that brings with it many benefits.’
She seemed to miss her step a little. He reached out and put a hand under her elbow, purely to steady her, but the sparks that shot through him warned him from making such a stupid mistake—particularly in public.
‘You must feel likewise to have established your childhood literacy initiative?’
‘Yes.’ Her smile was more natural. She casually pulled her arm away, putting a little more distance between them.
‘You enjoy reading?’
She kept her eyes straight ahead, and didn’t answer. Instead, after a moment, they came to the opening of a large room, this one filled with straight desks at which students could study during term time, and dark wooden walls filled with reference texts.
‘What a lovely room.’
He wondered if she was changing the subject intentionally, but let it go. There would be time later to ask her again—he wasn’t sure why it mattered, only it felt as if she was hiding something from him and he didn’t want that. He wanted to know...everything.
The thought almost made him miss a step, for how unwelcome it was.
Why? What was the point? He didn’t want to analyse it, he knew only that his instincts were pushing him towards her, not away, and he could no longer tell what was right or wrong.
The rest of the library tour took forty-five minutes. At the end of it, he paused, with one look keeping the rest of their contin
gent at a distance, leading her away separately. ‘Would you like to see what’s upstairs?’
‘The ancient texts?’
He dipped his head.
‘I...would have thought they were too precious to share with someone like me.’