ROMAN POV.
Sage looked up the moment I stepped into the library, a faint smudge of ink streaked across his brow. The boy had been working. I could smell the parchment, the ink, the quiet pride.
“I’m done,” he said, rising to his feet. “Every book you asked for has been rewritten to twice the original size. When do I get my training?”
I did not answer.
Instead, I moved past him, took a volume, and began flipping through it. His handwriting was bold and neat enough. I kept turning, scanning for any skipped chapters.
Then I snapped the book shut and dropped it onto the table with a loud thud.
“Burn them.”
Sage blinked. “What?”
I didn’t repeat myself.
“You said—” he stepped forward, pinching his brows. “You said you needed them bigger to read.”
I looked him in the eye. “I changed my
