Page 37 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“That reminds me of the time when Balin visited the castle!”

Wilson weaves another impossible story that has me laughing and the high mage smiling as he sips his wine. Grayson likes having the young mage around, and I’m not really sure how they know each other, but they have more of a sibling type relationship rather than a mage and his superior. I have to admit that I look forward to Wilson coming over in the evenings, especially since he acts as a buffer between myself and Grayson, always filling any empty silence with chatter. I’m very fond of him and his cheery disposition.

Does that make him my friend? I’ve never had friends before, so this is something I’m not used to. I enjoy seeing him, he makes me smile, I trust him not to hurt me, and I would be upset if anything happened to him.

Smiling at the thought, I lean back in my chair as I watch the mage. My friend.

Movement to my left has me glancing over as Grayson shifts in his chair. Does that make the high mage my friend too? He’s done nothing but help me, he heals me daily, and makes sure I’m fed and comfortable. He scares me sometimes, but I do trust him not to harm me. Under the table so no one can see, I tick off the same criteria I used with Wilson on my fingers.

I enjoy seeing him, yes. He makes me smile—it’s not as easy as with Wilson, but he does—and I like being around him, he makes me feel safe. Would I feel upset if he was harmed?

An anger so deep and fierce rises within me that the glass in my hand shatters at the thought. I don’t even notice as the shards cut into my hand, the room going silent they turn to stare at me and the broken glass. They seem to realise something is going on with me, that this wasn’t just a clumsy accident.

“Clarissa, are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I meet Wilson’s concerned eyes and see him recoil slightly at the anger there. I immediately feel guilty, but it’s not enough to stop the swirling rage that’s building inside me.

“Clarissa.” Like a cornered mountain lion, I follow the voice and spin my head to look at Grayson, narrowing my eyes at the command in his tone, the top of my lip curling back in a snarl. “Stop.” The command rolls through me. “Everyone is safe. I’m not sure what’s upsetting you and I can’t help unless you talk to me.”

I continue to stare at him, the swirling anger twisting with something else as I try to comprehend his words. “Has she goneintoeuisa?” Wilson whispers, but I don’t take my eyes off the high mage.

“No, she doesn’t have magic, she couldn’t have,” he tells the younger mage, but there is a note of uncertainty in his voice. He keeps his eyes locked on me as he speaks. “But we’ve triggered something, look at her wrist.”

Following their gazes, I see my wrist is glowing despite the cuff that’s covering my mark, the purple glow shining through the fabric. A fierce need to protect rolls through me and I push out of my chair and stalk towards Grayson, our gazes locked together. That is until Wilson coughs awkwardly and pushes up from his chair.

“I should go—”

“No,” I snarl, cutting him off. Prowling around to him, I grab him by the collar of his uniform and drag him with me as I go back to Grayson. Then, in a move that’s completely out of character for me, and one I’m sure I will look back on with horror, I climb into Grayson’s lap, pulling Wilson so he’s draped over me. It’s awkward, and the high mage grunts a few times as I shuffle into a more comfortable position. However, with the two of them wrapped around me, I feel safe, the fierce need to protect placated.

“Okay... guess I’m staying then,” Wilson mumbles, his words echoing through me as his jaw presses against my head. He says it like it’s a chore, but as his arms close around me, I can’t help but let out a contented sigh.

We stay this way for a while, the passing of time strange, but the longer I stay in Grayson’s lap, the more I relax, and the anger starts to disappear, only to be replaced with mortification as I return to myself.

“What just happened?” Voice tight, I try to keep as still as I can, ignoring the heat of Grayson’s taut chest and how good the warmth of his body feels against mine. The comfort I’m gettingfrom Wilson draping himself over me is different, but no less calming.

“I’m not sure,” Grayson replies honestly, his arms tightening around me as he starts rubbing small circles on my back. “You reacted a little like you’d gone intoeuisa. The protectiveness is similar, the need to be close to the person who set it off.” Frowning, I try to lift my head to look at him, but this turns out to be impossible with Wilson draped over me. Grayson has continually told me that I’mnota magician, that I have no magic, so I couldn’t have gone intoeuisa. It makes no sense. “What happened?” he asks gently, and I know what he’s asking—what set it off?

“I was thinking about friendship.” My throat tightens and I clear my throat before I continue, “About how I’ve never had friends before…and about what I would do if either of you got hurt.”

Both men still, and I worry I’ve said something wrong, that I’ve offended them. But then Wilson peels himself away from me and turns, placing a hand on my chin. He lifts it so he can look at me, Grayson’s arms loosening around me so I can move if I want to.

“You consider us your friends?”

“Um, yes? If that’s okay, I know I’m not—”

“Shut it,” Wilson says with a grin, so I know he’s not serious. “I’d be honoured to be your friend. I know that’s not easy for you. Right, Grayson?”

The high mage stiffens beneath me at the question and insecurity starts to creep in. “Yes, of course. Friends.” Although he said it, I get the impression he wants to say something else, something more, but as I twist in his lap and look up at him, his expression softens. Suddenly realising I’m sitting in a grown man’s lap, I start blushing furiously. Grayson’s never made any moves on me, or demanded anything sexual from me, but sittinghere, realising how close I am to him, I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to put my advances on him.

“I suppose I should get off your lap now.” With an awkward laugh, I climb off of him and pull at my dress, making sure it's straight, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m going to head to bed now. Thank you for dinner.” Bowing my head, I hurry from the room intending to hide for the rest of the night and mull over every agonisingly embarrassing moment.

“Clarissa, wait.” Freezing as Grayson calls my name, I glance over my shoulder at him. My heart flutters in my chest, and I’m not sure what I expect him to say, but it’s certainly not what he says next. “You won’t be working with the priest tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment, but I’m not convinced I pull it off from the sympathetic look Wilson’s giving me. “Night.” Hurrying away, I leave the room and head to my door, but I don’t miss Wilson’s snort.

“Smooth.”

I sleep surprisingly well despite my twisting and churning thoughts about how I acted at dinner. But after a hot shower, I curled up in the large bed, surrounding myself with cushions, and fell straight to sleep.

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