The time Hyacinthe was from, even those nobles who could read often did so by moving their lips. The universities we're for the idle wealthy, of which he was neither.

"It seems cruel, to make so much hinge on so little," he said, brow furrowed. "Would you rather I left, that you can work? Or is there aught I can do to assist?"

He was thinking more 'sharpen quills' and 'refresh ink' than anything else. Xan was far smarter than he.