Page 13 of The Lost Art of Seducing a Mage Warrior

Perian rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d be so young.”

The hesitation was slight but noticeable. “Setting a building on fire tends to catch people’s attention.”

Although all the elements could cause harm, Perian had to admit that fireballs were particularly alarming.

Everyone knew that if you manifested an affinity for any of the elements, you needed to learn control. You could go to the Mage school, get a private Mage tutor, or come to the castle to learn with the Mage Warriors. The law required that you be able to control the elements or be under the tutelage of a Mage who could. To keep the whole country safe, you could be banished—or worse—for non-compliance.

“Did you pick the castle yourself?” Perian asked.

“I did,” Brannal agreed. “Being a Warrior sounded cooler.”

Perian laughed. “Wow. Well-considered life choice.”

“I’m astonished by my wisdom every day.”

Perian snorted. He liked this version of Brannal very much, and while part of him was still worried that the Brannal of this morning would reappear, it seemed more and more worth taking the chance. He had genuinely apologized, and Perian loved this intimacy. If Nisal and Molun were to be believed, it was rare for Brannal—or he was normally way more discreet about it.

Either way, Perian was something new, and he hoped that was a good thing.

They finally arrived in what Perian recognized, based on the wall hangings, as the corridor that Brannal’s rooms were on, and he frowned a little when Brannal opened a door on what he was sure was the wrong side. Brannal ushered him in, and Perian saw that his memory was not playing tricks on him. This wasn’t the Mage Warrior’s room at all; it was a perfectly well appointed but generic-looking room that told Perian it was for a guest.

“This is for you,” Brannal said, gesturing around the room. “I—”

He cut off abruptly as he saw Perian’s face, which was clearly not schooled to anything that resembled neutrality. Brannal swallowed, then started over.

“It occurs to me that what Ishouldhave said was, ‘Perian, would you like to have your own quarters so that you have some private space while you are here? Or would you prefer to stay with me?’”

Perian continued to eye him for a long moment, and then his lips twitched up into the smile that he couldn’t quite hide.

“Much better. Is this your way of saying that you’d like some privacy?”

Brannal’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I said.”

“I know.”

Brannal’s head tilted slightly. “Now I can’t tell which one you’d actually prefer.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?”

Lips quirking, Brannal said, “I apologize. Again. I would genuinely like to know what you want.”

Perian considered the room. There was nothing wrong with it—apart from the obvious absence of the Mage Warrior that he’d come to stay with.

“There’ll be a lot fewer comments if you put me up here, I suppose?”

Brannal stared at him for another long moment, and then he reached out and twined their hands together. He pulled Perian out of the room and down the corridor to a very familiar room, and then he tugged Perian inside.

“Better?” he asked.

Carefully, Perian said, “I don’t actually mean to make trouble.”

“Do you really think there won’t be plenty of questions regardless of what room you’re staying in?”

Well, that was probably true. The group in the hallway had seemed awfully nosy. But was there a right answer to this? Perian and his father had had rooms for visitors, but people rarely stayed over. Still, Perian knew visitors didn’t usually stay in the same room with their hosts. He blew out a breath.

“I imagine you value your privacy,” Perian suggested.

“Very much,” Brannal agreed.

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