I feel Rafe chuckle under his breath. “See you after,” he says, gently kissing the air close to my cheek. All a performance for Michael’s benefit, I know, but it doesn’t stop the heat building in the space between us. My breath is unsteady as I approach Michael, and I’m honestly confused about which of the boys is most responsible.

“Yes?” I ask Michael once Rafe has breezed out of earshot.

“I had some books to give you.” He rifles through the contents of his leather briefcase, not meeting my eye, then shoves two books at me, his hand stilling momentarily as our fingers brush. “The rest of the Foundations seminar read them earlier in the year; you’ll have to catch up.” It’s Utopia by Thomas More and The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli. They’re so different from the books of the same name back home. These leather-bound volumes have stylized script and textured pages, and oh so much character, like a letter written from the author as a gift to the reader.

The hope I feel from noting his earlier expression causes me to be brave, so I ask, “Maybe you can help catch me up?” Not that I’m hoping anything will happen; I’m supposed to be pretending to be in a relationship with Rafe after all. But I miss the mentor sessions with Michael I had as an apprentice.

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “Sorry. Bloche’s away again, and my schedule is full this week. It’s nothing you can’t manage on your own.” He does look up now, his eyes clear of any kind of care. “If you have any questions, you can ask them during seminar. Enjoy your lunch.”

And with that look and those words, suddenly all my doubts come crashing back. What’s a jealous glance? Easily misinterpreted, that’s what. Words and actions speak louder than imperceptible, probably imagined body language. I need to move on from my fantasies. They’re distracting me from what’s important, and, though I hate to admit it, they’re tearing me apart inside.

Rafe has saved me a seat next to him, but the thought of eating with a bunch of Guard trainees is not appealing. Bram and Yvette are at that table. They’te both clearly trying to get back into Rafe’s good graces, and he seems willing to put up with their presence, which I don’t understand. But he doesn’t protest when I bypass his table to sit with Georgie. Simon eagerly takes the empty seat instead. He’s been following Rafe around as if he’s auditioning for the role of his tail.

Mine and Rafe’s behavior has not gone unnoticed, and Georgie has a questioning, mildly offended look in her eyes. But everyone near us is clearly eavesdropping; they’re not even being subtle about it. I’ll have to wait until later to explain everything to her.