Oz supposed he should have been expecting violence at some point, but he'd been diverting too much of his energy towards trying to look unaffected and had subsequently let his guard down. The book hit him on the left side of his brow despite his belated attempt to duck. He swore and pressed a hand to his head. The book fell at his feet and he gave it a solid kick without looking to see which one it was. Hopefully one of Phyri's favorites — having the cover dented and a page or two torn would be fitting punishment for lobbing it at him in a fit of passion. (Honestly, did either of them think they were making a good argument for women being quite rational and well-composed, and therefore deserving of the full brunt of the news in the Prophet? They were lucky it was only him to bear witness).

His sister's question about inventors made him wince more than the impact of the book had. Now they were just trying to be hurtful, surely. Oh, but that's obvious! he thought in frustration. He might have said as much had his head not been throbbing from the book his sister had just thrown at his head. Ink that could only be read by one party was a well-established spell, and variants on it were child's play. Infusing it into the ink wouldn't have been much more of a leap... but no one had asked, and he was sure they were baiting him, anyway.

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