Rayah and Joseph spent most of the day in the library.
Ornan tried to bargain more, asking if he could keep a copy of the papers for himself. Joseph rejected the request, fabricating excuses about how the meaning might be tied to the original paper itself—that copying could corrupt whatever hidden messages Lord Mao had embedded in the physical medium.
It was complete nonsense, but Ornan seemed to have bought it.
Joseph buried himself in grammar books while Rayah educated herself on the Island of the Emperor—its history, political structure, trade routes, cultural practices. She was an unusually hard worker. Joseph wouldn't have expected this from the same girl he'd met in that prison cell, half-dead and barely coherent.
The sun had begun to set, painting the library windows in amber and crimson.
They left.
It was finally time to find lodging.
