The Overdue Book

The rustle of students gathering their things filled the room. Cassia shoved the book into her satchel, her movements too quick, too furtive. She kept her head down as the other students filed out, not trusting herself to make eye contact with anyone.

A futa who was sleeping next to her, saw her pained expression walking past and asked. "Hey, are you okay? You look feverish."

"Fine." Cassia's voice came out strangled. "Just... fine. Thinking about the reading."

The futa raised an eyebrow but didn't press and kept walking, leaving Cassia alone in the emptying lecture hall. She waited until the last student had gone, until the only sounds were the distant echoes of footsteps and Rhea shuffling papers at the front of the room.

Then she stood and walked down the steps.

Rhea looked up as she approached, her expression shifting from professional warmth to genuine pleasure. "Cassia! I was hoping you'd stay. I wanted to ask if you'd thought more about-"

"Here." Cassia pulled the black leather book from her satchel and held it out. "I think I accidentally took this when I helped you carry your things. It's not my textbook."

Rhea's eyes fell to the book in Cassia's hand.

The color drained from her face, then rushed back twice as bright. Her cheeks turned deep crimson, a flush that spread from her face down her neck and, Cassia suspected, all the way to her chest. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again.

"That's-" Rhea's voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "That's mine. I mean, it's not- it's a personal- I must have-" She reached for the book, her hand trembling slightly.

Cassia held it just out of reach. She had planned to return it without comment, to pretend she had never opened it, to preserve Rhea's dignity and her own. But something had shifted in her during that reading. Some understanding had clicked into place, some recognition that she couldn't quite name.

"You didn't read any of it, did you?" Rhea's voice was almost a whisper, strained with hope.

Cassia looked at her. At the flush on her cheeks, the panic in her warm brown eyes, the way her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides.

She could lie. She should lie. It would be ****, easier, cleaner.

"No," Cassia said smoothly. "I didn't read any of it."

Rhea's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank the gods. I'm so sorry, Cassia, I shouldn't have- it was on my desk, and I just grabbed it, and you were helping me, and I must have-" She reached for the book again. "Can I have it back, please?"

Cassia didn't hand it over. Instead, she turned it over in her hands, studying the blank black cover. "Vespera Nightshade," she said, reading the author's name from the title page. "I'm not familiar with that philosopher. Are they new? Is this something you're assigning for a later class?"

Rhea made a **** sound. "No. No, it's not- she's not a philosopher. It's just... um, entertainment. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Entertainment?" Cassia tilted her head, feigning innocent curiosity. "What kind of entertainment? Should I read it? I'm always looking to expand my horizons."

"No!" The word came out too sharp, too loud. Rhea winced and lowered her voice. "No, I really don't think it would be... suitable for you. It's not- it's not worth your time, truly. Here, let me just-"

She snatched the book from Cassia's hands with a speed that belied her usual clumsiness. The motion was almost ****, clutching the volume to her chest like a shield.

"Okay then," Cassia said, turning toward the door. "I'll see you next week, Aunty Rhea."

She took two steps. Three. Four.

She could feel Rhea's eyes on her back, could sense the relief radiating from the older woman. The relief of someone who thought they had dodged an arrow.

Cassia reached the door and stopped.

She turned her head just enough to look back over her shoulder. Rhea was still standing there, book clutched to her chest, messy bun listing sideways. She looked rumpled and beautiful and so terribly, terribly human.

"The part with the riding crop," Cassia said, her voice light and teasing. "That was my favorite. The way Valeria begged? Exquisite. You have excellent taste, Aunty."

She watched the words land.

Rhea's eyes went impossibly wide. Her mouth fell open. The book slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud, pages splaying open to a page Cassia recognized, a scene involving silk ropes and a blindfold and a great deal of pleading.

"Enjoy your evening," Cassia said sweetly. And she walked out the door.

Behind her, just before the heavy oak door swung shut, she heard it. A high, embarrassed squeak that was followed by the soft sound of a face being buried into one’s own hands.

Cassia smiled all the way to the dining hall.