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His eyes widened, surprised at my rebellious words. “What if it’s written by an outlaw? Their philosophies are corrupt. Their verywordsare corrupt. No Cambrian should read anything but the purest language.”
I smiled. “I’m sure a respectable nobleman such as yourself could not be so easily corrupted.”
He stared at me. “Do you really believe that?”
“I’ve read the book. Do I seem corrupt?”
“No! Of course not,” said Graham, his face reddening. “Wait . . . have you read all of it?”
“Yes,” I confessed. “But then again, I’m not like you, so perhaps I never had much nobility to corrupt in the first place.”
Graham was quiet for a moment. “Regardless of your rank, I see nobility in you, Miss Yarrow.”
My smile fell. It was an odd thing to say and I didn’t know what he meant by it. “Uh, thank you,” I muttered, trying to hide my discomfort.
“Well, in that case,” said Graham, “may I borrow the book again?”
I nodded. “Yes. Of course.” I crossed the main room to retrieve the book from my bag under the librarians’ desk, then brought it back to him.
He took it with a smile. A real, full one this time, instead of his previous half-smiles, before leaving for his study room, his guards following dutifully behind him.
Graham may not have trusted me enough to tell me who he was yet, but his smile told me he was getting there. For some reason, that simple turn of his mouth filled me with a strange pride. Maybe I wasn’t quite as unlikable as Cael said I was. But then again, I hadn’t come here to make the heir like me. And I certainly didn’t intend to make him happy.
* * *
When evening arrived,my fingers stung with a dozen paper cuts, unsettled dust tickled at my nose, and my stomach growled. At least Mrs. Whitting had forgotten to supervise me for the rest of the day. Before the library closed, Graham found me at the catalog drawers and returned the book, his expression clouded. His guards kept their eyes fixed on us, but they remained out of earshot.
“So? Are you corrupted?” I asked.
“I don’tfeelcorrupted,” he said, “but I am confused. I would love to hear your perspective if I could, but these two wouldn’t stand for it.” He tilted his head toward the guards. “If they don’t accompany me home before sunset, my mother will be worried.”
I laughed. “Aw, that’s sweet.”
“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “If you knew my mother, you’d know it’s not even a little bit sweet. She allows me no choices of my own whatsoever.”
“Well, what would you do, if you could choose?” I asked.
“If I could choose?” He looked up. “Well . . . I’d run out of here with you, catch a carriage, eat—definitely—and leave my guards to figure out where I’ve gone.”
I leaned toward him. “Sounds like a plan.”
He laughed. “If only.”
“I’m serious. I mean, it might need some tweaking, but it’s a start.”
“You honestly think we should abandon my guards and take off into the streets?” He raised his eyebrows.
I shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
He paused as if he were honestly considering the question. “I don’t know. But I do know that if this book doesn’t corrupt me,youcertainly will.”
I smiled. “There’s a window in the study room.”
“I can’t,” he said, running both hands through his hair. He breathed deeply through his nose. “What would I tell the guards?”
“Tell them you want a few more minutes of study time. The library isn’t quite closed yet, after all. Then, when they shut the door, open the window and jump. It’s not far. They won’t check the room until you’re long gone.”
Graham stared in shock. “Do you truly want to do this?”
