" Sacré, Belle!" Marguerite had exclaimed upon entering, and though the grandeur of the room had never dulled for Belle, it was a treat to see it through Marguerite's eyes, and only made Belle more certain that opening it to the public was the right decision.
"I know. It's magnificent, isn't it?" Belle replied dreamily.
Marguerite ran her hands along the gilded banisters encircling the spiral staircase. "I've never seen so many books in all my life." She turned back to Belle and gave her a wry grin. "Is it true that your husband simply gave it to you during your courtship?"
A blush crept up her neck. She had thought of her time in the castle as many things, but a courtship was never one of them. "Something like that," she admitted. She wondered if she would ever feel close enough to Marguerite to tell her the truth.
Marguerite let out an appraising whistle. "No wonder you married him."
Belle blushed as she pulled her through the stacks, pointing out favorite books along the way. She ushered Marguerite to her favorite chaise nestled in her favorite alcove.
"This spot is best for a gloomy afternoon," Belle told her, pointing to a red velvet settee next to a small fireplace, framed by a window almost as tall as the room itself. "The patter of raindrops on the glass mixed with the warmth of the fire..."
"It must be heavenly," said Marguerite.
"It is."
Marguerite spun back around, head tilted to the ceiling, before collapsing in a heap on the plush carpet and motioning for Belle to join her on the floor. Belle acquiesced, lying down beside her friend and noting the view was even more remarkable from that new vantage. "

― Emma Theriault , Rebel Rose (The Queen's Council, #1)