Inkheart The Bookbinder

**The Bookbinder**

{prompt #31: The Library ; Bookshop}

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Bare feet hurry along the light-drenched hallway, scurrying between the polished white shelves, so full with books they look as they might collapse under the weight at any moment.

Resa tries to make as little noise as possible as she passes closed doors, very well aware that, by this time in the morning, her aunt might be lurking behind any one of them.

She was supposed to get up early today. She was supposed to slip out of her bed, tiptoe through the dimly lit corridors, and sneak into the library. She was supposed to put the book back into its place _before_ her aunt woke up, and be back in her room far before sunrise, so that Elinor would never suspect one of her precious volumes had gone missing form the library for a whole night.

Quite obviously, things haven't turned out exactly the way she had planned.

Even more obviously, there now is a fat chance she might be caught. And, to be completely honest, being reprimanded like a little girl is one of the many things Resa was _not_ looking forward to when she half-heartedly agreed to spend a couple of weeks in the Loredan mansion, to help her aunt catalogue her books properly.

When she finally stops in front of the white library door, her first instinct is to swing it open, throw herself inside and get the job done as soon as possible, but she restrains herself from pushing down on the handle just yet. Instead, she stands very still and holds her breath, pressing her ear to the door to try and make out any sound that might be coming from inside.

She waits, her heart beating fast, one, two, three seconds... But there is no noise to be heard inside the room, and the world seems to have gone so perfectly quiet Resa would probably fear having gone deaf if it wasn't for her own rhythmic heartbeat, still pounding through all that stillness.

Drawing a deep breath, she lowers the handle, and opens the door in such a painstakingly slow motion that it seems ages before the gap is wide enough for her to sneak through it. When it is, though, she wastes no more time on being careful and quickly slips through it, hastily closing the door behind her, for she knows that, had her aunt been anywhere near, she would've already been caught.

The library too seems to be swimming in sunlight, coming form the wide window on the far wall, and had this been any other day, Resa would have taken her time to admire the view. But, as this is not any other day, she quickly tiptoes through the shining glass cases, to the only empty spot on the tall bookshelves in the entire room – the one where the very fine first edition of _The Three Musketeers_ she is now carefully holding in her hands should be.

She has about enough time to get to the shelf and raise a long, pale arm to put the volume back into place before a voice, somewhere behind her, speaks.

«Good morning»

Resa turns around abruptly, and the book almost falls out of her hands when her eyes meet those of a young man she has never seen before. She can do absolutely nothing but stand there, petrified, torn apart between the instinct of yelling for help and her own determination not to be caught by her aunt.

An awkward silence settles between them, and the man must've realized something isn't quite right, because he gently tilts the pile of books he's balancing in is arms so he can hold them with only one hand and extends the other one towards her.

«Mortimer Folchart, bookbinder» he says.

Resa shakes his outstretched hand without taking her eyes off him, and is still too petrified to answer when his fingers release her own, which results in him still having no idea who she is, even though they technically just introduced each other.

He's tall and fair, quite handsome, even, with his thick dark hair and his nice, wide smile, but Resa is trying very hard not to let these elements cloud her judgement. After all, aunt Elinor said nothing about a bookbinder, and this wouldn't be the first time someone tried to get inside the house – though it would be the first time they actually succeeded.

The man seems to have noticed she is sizing him up, because he curiously raises an eyebrow and smirks just a little.

«I assume you didn't know I was coming?» he asks, sounding almost amused.

Resa wonders if it's him who can read people so easily or if it's her being so incredibly obvious, but she can't manage to find an answer to such a question just yet, so she settles to responding to his instead.

«As a matter of fact, I didn't» she finally says, relaxing a bit. She finds his calm so natural and absolutely innocent that for him to be a thief he definitely would have to be a very skilled actor as well. Not that she hasn't heard of such men, but still.

«My aunt—»

But whatever it is her aunt does, she doesn't have a chance to tell, because, as if one cue, the library door swings open to reveal a fat, gray-haired and not very nice looking lady, who is commonly known as Mrs Loredan.

Her beady eyes seem a little perplexed to find two people standing in the library, as she was expecting only the bookbinder to be in there, but she is very quick to recover, and Resa can only tell she was taken aback because of the way her eyebrows furrow a little, adding a thin line to the ones already cutting across her forehead.

«I see you've met our guest» she simply states, as if they had known of his arrival for a very long time - well, maybe _she_ had, but Resa was definitely not expecting to see anyone here but her aunt and the gardener, who is a very nice, very small and very talkative old man.

All she does, anyway, is nod, and as her aunt's gaze moves to the man standing next to her, Resa is tempted to let out a relieved sigh, because she hasn't noticed the book in her hands and she might actually get away with it and it just seems too good to be true - especially because being scolded in front of a stranger wouldn't have been very nice.

«Mr Folchart—» Elinor begins, only to stop mid-sentence, as if suddenly hit by something. Her gaze moves slowly back towards Resa, and rests on the volume she is still clutching tight, the very same volume she had hoped would not be noticed.

«Resa, what is it you have there?» she asks, her tone suddenly icy.

Resa feels her hands get sweaty as she racks her brain to find a good enough reason for her to be holding such a treasured possession of her aunt's, and she would very much like to sink deep into the earth right now, because she knows she will never be able to come up with a lie that might fool her, and she will probably be scolded like a five-year-old even though she is now in her twenties, and she would've done so much better had she just stayed home, and —

«I asked to see it»

Resa's head whips around, and so does Elinor's, none of them expecting the bookbinder would talk, and both very surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth.

Resa wonders what the hell is going on, and though her hands still feel sweaty and clammy while they hold tightly to the cursed book, she has now stopped wishing she would just disappear. Elinor, skeptical, simply raises an eyebrow, demanding a more detailed explanation.

«I couldn't help but notice it» he shrugs, sounding so innocent and honest Resa wonders if the doubts she initially had on this man might not have been more than legitimate «It's a first edition, and a wonderfully well kept one, too»

Resa can't be sure, but she thinks she just witnessed the slightest change in aunt Elinor's expression: her eyebrow isn't questioningly raised anymore, and her gaze, though as stern and piercing as ever, does not seem to be the accusing glare it was only seconds ago.

«Yes» she breaths, and this time Resa is sure she saw her chest swell with pride at the mere thought of her little treasure «Beautiful, isn't it? And very hard to find, too»

The bookbinder nods promptly, lowering his gaze to the book in Resa's hands, as if to register its worth.

«I don't doubt that» he agrees, quickly moving his eyes back to Elinor, with a slight smile playing on his face.

The woman nods, as if she had been expecting no other reply, and clears her throat, standing more erect, and immediately washing away the trace of tenderness that thinking about her books, her most prized possessions, had brought to her features.

«Next time something catches your eye, though» she says firmly, staring right into his eyes «make sure you come to me»

Her tone is one that does not admit any further discussion, and the bookbinder seems to grasp it perfectly.

«I will»

His answer is flat, his nod curt and subdued, but Resa is pretty sure this young man isn't at all intimidated by her aunt's manners. She's pretty sure he's just doing it to please the old woman, but at the same time she knows he's not trying to fool her, or to put on a show - no, this is probably just his idea of being polite, because his face is just so honest, and welcoming and somehow she just knows he would never do anything of the sort. She somehow gets this idea that even earlier, when he lied, he did it just because he thought he could help, and maybe that's the reason why he managed it with such absolute nonchalance - because, in the end, he thought he was doing it for a good reason.

Aunt Elinor scrutinizes him just a moment longer, before she announces, now looking at Resa as well, «Tea is ready, whenever you feel like it»

And with that, which is probably the reason she came in the first place, she steps out of the room, closes the door behind her, and marches back to the kitchen, where a tall mug of steaming tea awaits her, finally allowing Resa to relax.

The girl listens to the steps grow further and further away, and when she finally can't distinguish them anymore, she lets out a sight of relief and stands on tiptoe to put the volume back in place. She just decided she will be more than happy without these forbidden books, from now on. And, even though she hardly believes she will be able to keep that up for a very long time, right now it seems like a very final decision.

«Thank you» she whispers, turning back to the bookbinder, blushing slightly.

His lips curl into a smile once more, as he shifts the weight of the books he's still holding in his arms to balance them better.

«Don't mention it»

She forces herself to look right into his eyes, and she isn't surprised at all when she finds that his gaze is already fixed upon her, and that he is now sizing her up just like she previously did with him. It takes a lot of effort not to lower her eyes once more, but it's definitely worth it, because after a few seconds his smile seems to widen, as if he likes what he sees, and for some yet unknown reason this makes her unspeakably happy.

«Shall we go get some tea, then?» he asks, still smiling, still making her feel nice despite her unbrushed hair and her hastily pulled on dress, and everything that's messed up about her appearance right now.

«We shall» she agrees, returning his smile, all uneasiness forgotten.

And, as they walk out of the library, she can't help but think he has a really nice voice.

She would like to hear him read aloud, someday.


End file.
