Demon in White (The Sun Eater, #3)

by Christopher Ruocchio

“The beaches?” He sounded incredulous. “I don’t like sand.”

Haha

lot of harm is done by teachers who teach what they think they know. Your caution does you credit.” He shifted in his seat and lay his cane across his knees. “The greater part of wisdom is in silence.”

“Grief is deep water, they say.” He recovered his grip on his cane. “But not all tears are grief.” He drew back, putting some small distance between us. “I sometimes think we do more harm than good, teaching what we teach. Reason. Reason is such a small part of being human. We scholiasts climb our towers, look at the sky, and forget the world. So often we don’t see the truth because we won’t look low enough. Chasing reason, chasing facts . . . we forget to be human. To be human is the greater thing, dear boy. Now go . . . before I go with you.”

The ivory ring on my gloved hand branded me a liar, and for the first time since that fateful day in the Colosso I was glad of the glove. “You don’t have to be. If I’d wanted a wife, I’d have had one. Anaïs or Selene . . .” There had been others. I had been so long a knight and the Emperor’s favorite—and so long at court. Had I been more susceptible to the charms of women—which is to say had I been the sort of man willing to take advantage of women—I might have had whichever I’d wanted. I wanted her. More than a hundred years together by then, and it wasn’t enough. I still wanted her. Always her. Only her.