“You good? Looks like you just saw a ghost.”
I quickly shook my head, feeling suddenly cold, and wrapped my arms around myself. “Just… remembering,” I admitted. I nodded my chin toward the row of books. “My dad always hated when I tried to read anything fun.”
“Ah. So he was one of those.”
I nodded. “He always made me read textbooks before bed. Things like negotiation tactics and war strategy and…” I suppressed a shudder. “Etiquette.”
The books on etiquette were easily my least favorite. At least the history books were interesting. But the ones on etiquette were just a reminder of my true place in my father’s world; smart enough to understand the intricacies of war, but I was still a woman, so having good posture and knowing how to pour tea and please a man were the only thi
