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Mondstadt has too many stairs.
I pick myself up off the ground, brushing the dirt off my knees. I don’t hiss when my hands brush the left one, I don’t, because it’s fine and definitely not skinned or anything. If it were hurt, Mutti would fuss over me again and drag me to the cathedral or just straight home and I don’t want that, so it can’t be hurt. Mutti and Vati have barely let me out since—
I’m not going home. I’m going to the library.
I’m sick of being home.
Stupid home.
Stupid stairs.
I hate tripping.
I tug the hem of my dress down to cover my knee. (Which is not skinned, I’m fine.)
Mutti catches up. “You shouldn’t run ahead like that!” she says.
I look away. “…I know.” I kick the ground and force myself to smile as I look back. “But I just really want to get there! I’ve been so bored…”
She gets one of those looks on her face again that she thinks I don’t know what it means. She doesn’t know what to do with me or for me or anything me. “…I know, sweetie, but I just want to be able to look out for you.” Then it’s the look where she’s mad at my friends and pretending she’s not.
(Not that I’ve played with them or even seen them in a while.
Fine. Stupid friends. Stupid playing.)
“Archons know you need it.” She takes my hand and walks me the rest of the way. She’s so slow.
It’s kind of weird, now that I think about it, that the library is in the same building where all the laws are made and the nation is run and a bunch of the Knights sleep and the prison is in the basement. Clearly this is another way Mondstadt is shaped that’s stupid. Like the stairs.
The guards smile at us as we enter.
I can tell they’re pitying me. Stupid guards.
At least the library is nice. It’s always nice, always has been, always will be.
The books don’t judge you when you say something weird or like stories too much. They’re the stories. They want to be liked.
They don’t judge you when you do something stupid and now you—
Stupid stairs.
Stupid tripping. I hate tripping.
Stupid tree branch, tripping me when I’m playing.
Stupid other tree branch.
Stupid eye.
Stupid me.
“Now why don’t you pick out something and have a seat.” Mutti gives me a strained smile. “I need to run to the cathedral and talk to the Sisters for a bit, so just stay put, okay? Have fun.”
She doesn’t see me roll my eyes—
Well. Eye.
I sigh and walk to the fiction section. There’s a display up that wasn’t there last time I was here; a bunch of titles I don’t recognize, and a bunch I feel like I saw on the shelves but never paid any attention to. I guess they’re trying to get more people reading.
Makes sense. Stories are fun and cool and the opposite of stupid. More people should read them.
Hm. I’ve read that one before.
And that one.
Started that one, but it’s boring. Stories can’t be stupid, but they can be boring. And wasting my time getting bored would be stupid.
Hm, I don’t think I’ve heard of—
I stop. (I freeze.)
I look at the cover.
The main character looks back. She’s…
She’s so cool.
She’s so beautiful.
She’s…
She’s looking back with the same number of eyes.
My hand doesn’t shake as I take it off the stand, it doesn’t it doesn’t
it does.
I sit.
I read.
She’s so cool.
She’s so beautiful.
I finish. It’s later. How did it get this much later?
Stu… no. That time wasn’t stupid and I wasn’t stupid. I spent it on this… this amazing book. The complete opposite of stupid.
I look at the cover, my gaze meeting the main character’s again. I hold that eye contact as I trace a finger over her illustrated eyepatch. Then over mine. She doesn’t let anyone think less of her for anything. Her patch is power and mystery and cool beauty, everything mine isn’t. I want to be like her.
I want to be her.
But first, I want to read it again. And again and again and again.
“Amy!”
I turn, and give Mutti a wide smile. I don’t have to force it this time. Flowers for Princess Fischl is amazing.
“Coming!”