It’s almost a wonder, how ably Enjolras dodges implications, as though Claudius had just loosed a volley of arrows and Enjolras sidestepped them all without noticing. Claudius smirks and shakes his head. “Any and everything. I have a hunger for knowledge, or so Laertes tells me.” Laertes said love, but love is a rather tender and vulnerable word. “I’ll ask him what Voltaire he’s read when I see him next … and take whatever writings you can find when we meet again. It’s been a pleasure, Enjolras.”