On the way back to the library, I don't know what to feel. I should be elated that my three year bargain is over almost before it began. I should be beyond excited to go back to the library, back home with my Father. Back home to my life. But I don't. Father was attacked, the library is in danger once again, and Gideon is a thorn in my side I want to pull out and burn. Those are all valid reasons for not jumping for joy. But the most confusing one, the one that I would never have guessed when all of this started is— I miss Adir. I don't want to leave him. I don't want to be his servant for three years, but I also don't want him out of my life.

What a complete and utter mess. I'm struggling with the jumble of thoughts and emotions going through me when we turn the corner and the library comes into view. As if on cue, both Father and I stop.

"Oh no," I whisper as I take in the damage.

Father just sighs, a sound of utter defeat I never want to hear from him again. Graffiti covers the entire front of the building and trash has been dumped on the porch. My eye goes to the small garden as we approach. It's been trampled. Meticulously and carefully trampled so that not one flower remains upright. I stare at that. That took time and dedication. That was done by someone who really wanted to hurt me. It was personal.

"I'm going to look inside," Father says grimly, hopping up the stairs.

I nod, anger and utter helplessness vying inside me. But I refuse to be disheartened. I refuse to be crushed by this. Only Gideon could be responsible for this and I refuse to let him cow us. So I get to work. I go inside and change. I didn't take the time to go up to Prince Adir's and take my things before I left, but I still have a few clothes here. They're older, but that's perfect for working. Luckily, Gideon and his goons defaced the entryway, but that's as far as they got. The library itself, the bedrooms, the kitchen, they remain untouched.

I gather all the trash that was thrown around first. Then I try scrubbing at the paint on the wall. Water and soap don't work, but I find a paint remover that does. Good. I didn't want to have to paint over the old rock. I settle in to the long process, working section by section to clear the stones of the swears and demeaning, belittling words emblazoned on them. The mindless work leaves me plenty of time with my thoughts. Too much time. And my mind unsurprisingly goes directly to Prince Adir.

I remember his mouth on mine. On my breasts. Between my legs. His hard body working on top of me, his cock sliding in and out. The look on his face when he came. My body heats up just at the thought of him. But that isn't all I think of. It isn't even the most important, really. The side of him that really draws me, really fascinates me, is the one he hides from the world. His poetry, the books he hoards carefully away from prying eyes. The gentle, empathetic part of him attracts me even as his raw sensuality burns me.

An irresistible combination. As my mind is consumed by thoughts of Adir, I come to the dawning realization that there’s no shaking what I'm feeling. No, this emotion is too intense. Love. Love cuts too deep to ignore.

And I'm in love with Prince Adir.

I'm in love with the Singarti Prince who threatened to destroy the very library I'm in the process of cleaning. Though now I know that would never have happened. Someone who lovingly collects books of his own, who surrounds himself with them in his sanctuary, would never destroy a library. It isn't in his nature. He'd be more likely to acquire it, restore it. Just one more lie to throw everyone off of what he's really like. My chest hurts with the thought of him. With the desire to be with him. But how could I and still protect Father?

I worry at the problem, not coming up with any solutions as I continue cleaning, my arms burning with the effort. I need a break. Setting down the stiff bristled brush, I move over to the garden to see if any of the flowers can be salvaged. They've been trampled, but the roots might still be saved. They could grow again. Be a joy to look at again. A testament to the fact that we refuse to be beaten down. My hands are quickly covered in dirt as I set about righting the mess as best I can, working carefully so I don't do more damage. And that's when the person I least want to see shows up.

"Isa, how lovely to see you. Though it looks like the library has definitely seen better days." A pregnant pause, multiple snickers in the background. "What a shame," he adds insincerely.

I freeze, anger rising inside me. I stand, turning to face Gideon and his merry band of brown-nosers. "You're not allowed here. This is private property," I say as calmly as possible. What I really want to do is punch him in the face. But as much as it burns, I don't want to create more problems.

His eyes narrow and he deliberately saunters closer, the swagger in his step a little more exaggerated today. He doesn't stop until he's much too close to me, his chest touching mine. I refuse to budge, staring straight into his eyes.

"Isa, Isa," he says quietly, taking a lock of the hair that has escaped my ponytail between his fingers, fondling the strands. "You know you should be nice to me. Or do you not like the library anymore?"

The threat is clear as day.

I take a deliberate step back to break the contact. "Leave. Now," I repeat, my hands clenching into fists.

He frowns, his expression turning ugly. Then he deliberately crowds me with his body, forcing me to move until my back hits the front wall of the building.

"If you don't move back right now, you're really going to regret it," I grit out between my teeth. He doesn't know exactly how close I am to snapping.

He smiles. "I don't think I am," he says, bracing his forearms on the wall on either side of my head. "Now—"

Taking a firm grip on his shirt, I slam my knee up into his groin. Hard. He wheezes, stumbling back as his groupies snicker at him. Not very loyal.

"I did warn you," I point out, not the least bit sorry.

"You bitch!" he screams, looking up from his doubled over position, his rage turning his face red. "You're already mine! It's a done deal! Your father already agreed! You're mine and there's nothing you can do about it!"

What? I lean back against the wall, it’s like the world is dropping away from under my feet. My father agreed to Gideon's demand to have me?

"He would never make a deal like that," I say firmly, my eyes on Gideon's face as he slowly straightens.

His smile is a promise. A threat.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Isa," he taunts.

I stare at his confident face in disbelief. No. It can't be.