Before I left, I held my candle up, scanning that barren desk. Why would Shevraeth work there when he had what was rumored to be a fabulous suite of rooms in the Royal Wing--including at least one study? Because he could be alone, of course. Except for a certain snotty countess bounding in and starting quarrels. Sighing to myself, I retreated to my rooms to think out my strategy. I didn't notice the waiting letter until I sank down on my pillows. I grabbed it, saw the familiar handwriting, and tore into the envelope eagerly. It was a long response to my letter, talking freely about all manner of things. Several times I laughed out loud. Other times I felt the impulse to go hunting books again, for he made easy reference to historical events and people he assumed I was familiar with. It was a relief that, though he knew I was ignorant, he did not think I was stupid. Despite my tiredness, I sat up most of the night happily penning my reply.