"What?" Orlan was stunned, staring at Nolan in surprise. "What do you mean, Prince Nolan?"
Nolan took a sip of his wine, then smiled coldly. "What else could I mean if not that book? Do you really think it's the real one?"
Orlan fell silent, his expression turning serious. He narrowed his eyes and examined the book carefully.
As a devoted admirer of Edward Layard's works, Orlan was deeply familiar with them and could naturally distinguish an original from a fake.
But the more he examined the book, the more flawless it appeared.
Edward Layard's books were unique—none of them had titles on the front cover. The title was always printed on the back.
Only the author's name appeared on the front, along with Edward's signature at the bottom.
And the book Cedric had given to Ragan matched that exact description—it was identical to Edward Layard's usual works.
In an instant, Orlan's doubts about the book faded—replaced by suspicion toward Nolan.
