in a heap at his feet. Wordless, Valek left my room. I staggered upright, feeling as if I had too many arms and legs, and managed to catch up to him in the living room. He stood in front of his desk.
“If this is about the books…” I said to his back, guessing that he was angry with me for borrowing his manuals.
He turned. “Books? You think this is about books?” His voice held amazement for a brief moment before it turned sharp and cutting. “I’ve been a fool. All this time I admired your survival instincts and intelligence. But now…” He paused, and then looked around the room as if searching for the right words.
“I overheard some servants discussing you as the fugitive. They were placing wagers. How could you be so stupid, so indiscreet? I considered killing you now to save myself the trouble of hunting for your dead body later.”
“I didn’t tell a soul.” I allowed anger to color my voice. “How can you think I would jeopardize my own life?”
“Why should I believe you? The only other person who knew was the Commander.”
“Well, Valek, you’re the spymaster. Couldn’t someone have overheard the conversation? Who else has access to this room? You left your notes in full view on your desk.” Before he could leap to another wrong conclusion, I hurried on. “They were conspicuous. If I noticed them with just a quick glance, then they begged for inspection to someone seeking information.”
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