Book Delicate Novels & Stories

Helma and Neil had finished dinner. The two were lounging in the living room. Helma was reading the Book Of Medical Remedies while Neil peeled a banana and handed it to her. "You’ve been reading this book all day long. What’s so interesting?" Neil said with a smile. Helma shook her head. "Brother, if you don't understand traditional medicine, you won't know how precious this book is!" "How precious. Is it more precious than the things in our safe?"

Her eyes were red around the edges, as if she’d been crying at some point and forced herself to stop. “Sit,” Jessica said gently. Baylee sat. Melody didn’t. Instead, Melody laid a palm over the oldest book on the table — one Baylee had never seen before. It wasn’t Silverveil leather. It wasn’t Ironclaw parchment. The cover was gray, almost colorless, like stone worn smooth by centuries. The edges of the pages were inked in silver, and even that ink seemed faintly alive, like moonlight trapped in paper. “Where did you get that?” Baylee asked quietly.

It was bound with beautiful teal leather that caught my eye. I took it from his stretched hand. He took his seat once again and I looked at it. The book had a faint musty scent and surprisingly, it felt light as a feather in my hands. I fingered the gold letterings delicately, a part of me scared that I might disarrange them. It read Lost Memories. I couldn't take my eyes away from it. It felt like it called to me. I turned the cover over and it revealed an almost blank page. I almost did not notice the small writing at the very edge of the page.

He straightened his tie, then entered the office building in long strides. I stood at the dorm balcony and watched his silhouette disappear through the glass doors. I spotted Francine in the cafeteria during lunchtime. She sat alone in the corner and barely plucked at the food before her. I approached her with my tray and claimed the seat across from her, asking, "Why aren't you eating?" She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes startlingly red, and confessed quietly, "I don't feel like eating." I noticed the red mark branding her wrist, as if she'd been bound or cuffed. I pressed, "Who did that?"

Kale hold my hands tightly. It’s time. I reached into a hidden velvet drawer and pulled out a small, obsidian vial. "This... it’s a plum vintage. Strong and sweet. It’s laced with a toxin that leaves no trace, just a heart that simply decides to stop beating." I pressed the vial into his hand, my fingers lingering over his to seal the silent pact. "The kitchen staff is busy with the cleanup. Have one of the lower servants deliver it to her, someone invisible. A 'birthday gift' from a sympathetic miner in the kitchens. She won't suspect a thing. She’ll drink it to numb the pain of her cage."

I baked you some cookies to show that I am really sorry and also Merry Christmas! I made you a cheap present. I made it so it's priceless. Hope you like it. Remember my name is Dahlia, the beautiful flower that means Dignity and Elegance. I saw Lucas staring at me, awed as for the first time, I smiled, a genuine smile after reading the note with a flower scribbled at the end of the note that maybe was a dahlia by the shape of it. That girl was definitely not elegant but her name was as beautiful as her.

She was so delicate, the rose scent on her body was inviting and intoxicating. I got changed to a white buttoned up shirt, folding my sleeves up to my elbows and a pair of black jeans. After combing my messy hair back, I put on some cologne before I walked out and headed back to the dining area. There was still no one, so I decided to take a glass of our thick red liquid, a way to calm my anger.

Because of meaning. The elderly keeper approached the pedestal slowly. With respect. With affection. With the care one might show an old friend. Then he turned toward me. And smiled. "You've been looking for this your entire life." Silence. The crew looked between us. Hope looked especially interested. Dangerous. Very dangerous. I stepped closer. Heart racing unexpectedly. The book appeared ancient. Bound in silver and gold leather. Its cover worn smooth by countless hands. No title. No decoration. Only a small lantern embossed at the center.

We lived in an old rented house with no decorations. The little girl next door gave us a stack of origami paper. We folded them into stars all night, planning to weave them into a curtain of stars. Together, we wrote our wishes and blessings into every star. I wrote every word seriously, but my writing was still terrible compared to his. Thinking back now, he was still using the fountain pen Anna gave him at the time. So she had a presence in our relationship that long ago. I just did not notice. I put my all into writing my wishes, such as…

“You really brought me to one of the fanciest places in the city just for dinner?” Austin met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Not just dinner.” Her brows furrowed slightly. “Then what?” He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the question hang there, studying her face as if searching for the right moment. Just then, Diana returned, setting down their drinks with the kind of practiced elegance that made her movements look almost rehearsed. “Your menus,” she said, handing them each a sleek black booklet embossed with gold lettering. “Thank you,” Lucy said softly.