Ansel of Pryor House by Hayden Thorne

Author:Hayden Thorne [Thorne, Hayden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Queerteen Press
Published: 2015-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The library was cold, just like the rest of Pryor House. It was just as beautiful as ever, too, but empty and lacking, melancholy loneliness bound in leather, stitched into upholstered fabric, and gleaming under the soft polish of dark wood.

Ah, here we go again. Let’s see what the ambitious little turd thinks he can read.

Ansel chose a random bookcase, feeling at first defiant until he read—or tried to read—the gilt letters on different spines, and dismay crept in. Perhaps if he tried to pronounce words under his breath, their meaning might come to him.

Many of the volumes, he was quickly reminded, were in different foreign languages. He forced himself to read what he could of the titles or the text on random pages. It was a mind-breaking effort and certainly an awful, insistent blow on what little self-respect he had because he simply couldn’t read them, let alone comprehend, no matter how he tried to pronounce them. And some of the letters had strange markings or symbols on them that made things even worse.

Stupid little pup. Never knows when to stop.

Ansel pinched his eyes shut and fought against his father’s shadow. It was a powerful presence, its ugliness a hovering threat to his peace of mind. He’d already been taken away; he was now safe in Pryor House. His father was gone from his life, perhaps forever, yet his tainted presence resisted this change.

Ansel needed to keep it at bay—at least for now. Perhaps…

He pictured Cedric again, laughing and beautiful and alive, rosy-cheeked from the winter and his eyes sparkling with so much hope. And along with that image came the gentle music a mysterious young man had written for his love, proving once again just how tightly intertwined it was with Cedric in Ansel’s private little world. He didn’t know how quickly the effects had taken place, but he was eventually made aware that the tightness and the pain that had pressed down on his chest just a moment ago had gradually eased. There wasn’t much of his father’s loathing that could be felt anywhere, though he could still sense it picking insistently at the fringes of his mind. Forced to the periphery, anyway, all those years of misery fought to keep their hold on him and demanded to be acknowledged. Shame and guilt had been forced aside but not vanquished. At the very least, Cedric and the music helped ease the moment.

“I can do this,” Ansel whispered, letting out a rattling breath. He opened his eyes cautiously.

He was still in the library, and he still stood before shelves filled with books he couldn’t read. He’d already replaced the last one he held, and he casually walked around the room, eyes scanning for spines he was able to read without trouble. He realized, once he’d slowed his pace some more and had taken his time, there were several of those books.

Ansel blinked, his chest tightening again with an acute pain. This time, however, it was because of wonder and sudden joy.

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