Imagine buying a book like this when it came out and keeping it for that long. That was lifetimes and lifetimes. "Maybe you'll find it still," she said, feeling that longing ache she often did at the thought of old books. It was so silly, but there was just something meaningful about those words on a page, written by long dead people, inked by long dead people, bound by long dead people. Old books were a time machine. "You'll walk into some dusty bookstore and there it will be, just waiting to be yours."
When Merlin laid his hand on hers, she looked up at him and smiled warmly. "I try not to judge anything so quickly."