"It's not about the books," Felix nearly shouts, very nearly instantly appalled at himself. The frustration is evident on his face. Not so much because Gideon doesn't seem to get it, but because it forces him to have to say it directly without the helpful varnish of metaphor and implication.

He presses fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighs before trying again. "I didn't have time to. I arrived here shortly thereafter. They would have had me executed, you know, unless it weren't for Mildmay. And, without him, I would gladly have let them. I think, in a way, a part of me did. I made mistakes. I grant you that. But that it took your death to clarify exactly how abysmally stupid I had been is perhaps the greatest mistake of all. I have been trying since I came here to make up for that."