Niah's POV
The next morning, the air in the archives still carried the scent of wet stone and old paper, like the ghosts of a thousand overdue books. Zaire Castellan was already there, surrounded by half-unpacked crates and ledgers that looked like they'd crumble if you so much as breathed on them. He didn't even bother to look up when I walked in.
"Let me guess," I said, marching over. "You've already alphabetized everything that didn't need alphabetizing?"
"No," he replied, way too calm. "I'm just waiting for you to finish talking so I can start thinking again."
"Charming," I muttered. "Do you always act like everyone else is an inconvenience, or am I just special?"
Finally, he glanced up—cool, sharp, like he was sizing me up for a duel instead of a conversation.
"You ask a lot of questions for someone who thinks they have all the answers."
I snorted, dropping my bag a little too hard. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to offend your solitary Mr Brooding routine."
"You don't offend me," he said. "You just… interrupt the silence."
I rolled my eyes, totally unfazed. "And you interrupt reality with your cryptic one-liners and dramatic coat-flapping."
He raised an eyebrow. "You memorizing how my coat flaps now?"
I waved a hand. "Only so I can set it on fire in vivid detail."
He smirked, clearly way too entertained.
We'd settled into this weird, sharp-edged banter—like fencing, but only with words. Then, right as I was flipping through catalog templates, he dropped a bomb:
"Esme, you're holding that ledger upside down."
I froze. The moment stretched out awkwardly. I turned, heart thumping. "What did you just call me?"
Zaire blinked, like he'd just realized what he'd said. "What?"
"You called me Esme."
Something flickered across his face and was gone before I could catch it.
"Did I?" His voice was careful now. "Isn't that your name?"
I narrowed my eyes. "That's not… that's my middle name. Not my real name."
He paused, just a beat too long. "I know."
"Then why—?"
"It suits you better."
I stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "You don't get to rename people just because you don't like their actual name."
Zaire just shrugged, turning away. "Too late, Esme."
"Stop saying it."
He shot me a look over his shoulder. "Esme."
I could practically feel steam coming out of my ears. "You—! You're—!"
"Annoyed?" he offered. "So am I. Guess we're finally on the same page."
Before I could chuck a box at his head, the door swung open. Father Delran strolled in, grinning like he'd been waiting for this circus all morning.
"Glad to see you two have met," he said, way too cheerful. "Dr Thorne and I are putting you both on the Glast Parish files. Niah, you'll handle transcription. Zaire, you're on cipher logs."
"Together?" we both blurted, horror in stereo.
Father Delran clapped his hands. "Exactly! Loving the teamwork already. Both of you start tomorrow. Good Luck."
And just like that, he vanished.
Silence dropped, heavy as a brick. Zaire went back to his papers. I sat at the far end of the table, jaw clenched.
"Call me Niah," I said through gritted teeth.
He didn't even look up. "Of course, Esme."
I swear, if looks could kill, he'd be a pile of ashes. I muttered, "Idiotic fool," under my breath, feeling steam practically pour out of my ears.
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Maveve's Play (Just for Fun)
Niah: Author, I'm serious. This guy is an idiot. Can we swap out the male lead, like, right now?
Author: Whoa, whoa, calm down, Niah! What's wrong with Zaire? Isn't he handsome?
Niah: Handsome? Please. He's just a bully in a fancy coat. I don't want him as my hero. He's a villain, kick him out of the book!
Zaire: (Raises an eyebrow, shooting a look at Niah) "Careful what you wish for, Esme. Not my fault you've got the memory of a goldfish and tantrums like a cat. Am I right, Author?" (Narrowing his eyes at the author)
Author: (Sweating bullets) "Uh… guys, maybe don't fight? You should work together and, you know, ask the readers to like, comment, and support the story?"
Niah: (Totally ignoring Zaire) "Hey, readers! Hope you're enjoying the chaos. Stick around for more twists and turns—please like, comment, and support our story. And by 'our,' I mean me and my poor author, not Mr Brooding over there." (Throws a side-eye at Zaire)
Zaire: "Everyone knows who's actually more annoying than my brooding, Esme."
Niah: You—! Ugh! Author! (Screaming at the author)
Author: "Okay, bye! You two keep… doing whatever this is. Readers, don't forget to support us!" (Runs for her life as the chaos explodes)
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