That had been too much, she knew. And indeed Will was on it, like a spider leaping onto a particularly tasty fly. “Mr. Herondale?” he demanded. “Tessa, I thought…?” “You thought what?” Her tone was glacial. “That we could at least talk about books.” “We did,” she said. “You insulted my taste. And you should know, The Wide, Wide World is not my favorite book. It is simply a story I enjoyed, like The Hidden Hand, or—You know, perhaps you should suggest something to me, so I can judge your taste. It’s hardly fair otherwise.”
She slays.
