“Then I will protect what I can from where I am standing.”
That was worse than romantic.
It sounded like a promise he had no idea how to break.
“And if I accept you?”
He did not look away.
“Then I will spend the rest of my life making sure acceptance never becomes another word for ownership.”
Cosima stood so quickly the chair scraped behind her.
“That is enough of that,” she said, her voice too bright.
Caspian turned to her and I saw the same pain her voice held flash on his face.
“Cosima, you know?—”
“No,” she said. “Do not be sweet to me right now, Caspian Ashford. I will hate you for it, and neither of us has time for that.”
He closed his mouth.
She gathered the books I had abandoned on the table and pushed the stack toward me.
“Now you know why this cannot only be about him.”
“Cosima.”
“Aldric knows more than he has said.”
“About Article Seven?”
“And about your mother.”
The air left my lungs too quickly.
“What does my mother have to do with Aldric?”
“Ask him before Quill does.”
“When?”
“After breakfast. He will be in the lower archive before first hour. Bring Reverie.”
I blinked.
“Rev?”
“She knows where doors lead that others don’t even know exist, and people underestimate where her talking goes.”
“She would enjoy that description.”
“She should. It is a rare compliment.”
Cosima slid Juno’s folded page back to me.
“Keep that.”
