The library was quiet. Peaceful. Isolated.
Exactly what she needed.
Beatrice stormed inside, her skirts swishing aggressively as she made her way toward the back of the room. A few scholars looked up at her entrance, blinking in mild surprise, but she ignored them.
She needed to cool off. She needed to stop feeling like she wanted to snap at the next person who so much as breathed wrong in her direction.
She collapsed into one of the chairs near the far end of the library, rubbing her temples.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the sheer weight of pretending everything was fine when, in reality, she felt like she was unraveling at the seams.
Maybe she just needed to hit something.
The thought was a little concerning.
Beatrice exhaled slowly and reached for the closest book on the table, flipping it open without even checking the title. She stared at the words, eyes unfocused.
She wasn't reading. Not really.
