Chris stared at the embossed title as if it personally owed him money.
"Volume… one?" he repeated, voice thin.
Serathine nodded with the serenity of someone who had already buried two monarchs' egos. "There are seven."
Chris made a noise that started as a breath and ended somewhere closer to an exorcism. Rowan took one unconscious step back, like he expected the High Consort to combust.
"Seven volumes?" Chris whispered. "Seven whole… how many pages is this?"
Cressida tilted her head, thoughtful. "Each volume is between two and four hundred pages. Mostly examples, case studies, historic notes, and behavioral maps for dealing with nobles, ambassadors, military personnel, and…" she paused delicately, "alphas with poor impulse control."
"…So all of Saha," Chris said flatly.
"Yes, dear," Cressida replied. "All of Saha."
Rowan took one look at Volume One, then at Chris's face, then at the two matriarchs settling in like executioners preparing their tools.
