Chapter Seventeen
“What?” Kalil spluttered at my accusation. Still, he drew his fingers away from the book lying on the floor, which had been my intention. I released my grip on his shoulder as he rose to his feet to face me.
“Explain,” he demanded. He drew himself up and folded his arms across his chest—every inch the imperial prince, despite his obvious illness.
“Your brother knows you are fascinated by other cultures,” I said, using the information Admon had provided in his journal.
I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose. The sour scent I had noticed from outside the window was even stronger standing in such close proximity to the prince.
“He knew you would not be able to resist a copy of The Book of Time,” I continued. “He arranged to have the pages of your copy dusted with therat
