The sound of my own feet tapping rapidly echoed within the third floor of the library.
Books were strewn across the table, some open, others discarded in frustration.
I leaned back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the latest one I had been trying to decipher.
It was about elven tradition and how they greet each other.
Basically, the do's and don'ts when you are in the presence of an elf.
"What the fuck am I doing!?" I groaned, slamming the book on the table.
"Studying, your highness," Aimar responded deadpan.
He sat across from me as he spun a pen between his fingers.
"Shut up, dickhead," I yelled, throwing a heavy book at his face.
He grabbed the book mid-flight, his golden eyes glaring at me.
"Show some respect, fucker," he growled. "I'm sacrificing my sleep to keep you company, and this is the thanks I get?"
"And so is he," I replied, pointing at Elijah, who was sitting with us.
"..."
