The book's a quick read because it's horrible and has no basis in reality: if there were an Antivan Crow who was a mage, the assassin would be unstoppable, and therefore the story would be short.

It is.

(Cullen checks the inside cover and sees Property of Yvette Montilyet scrawled inside. That explains that.)

Feeling much more cheerful -- no, Cullen thinks, call it what it is, you're feeling much less sorry for yourself -- he returns the book to its place, carefully leans the toasting fork against the mantel, and starts the trek back to his tower.

(Maybe an appropriate thank-you to Josephine would be to display even the slightest bit of enthusiasm for those interludes she thinks it's mandatory for the advisors to have. If only they didn't so strongly resemble tea parties.)

Cullen doesn't trouble to be quiet as he enters his office, stamping his feet to get the snow off his boots.