Page 5 of The Lost Art of Seducing a Mage Warrior

So, Perian smoothed his hair as best he could, straightened his slightly-too-large clothing, and determined that after thanking Brannal for his excellent care, he would suggest that bath. This could easily lead to a discussion of Perian’s own belongings and hopefully become an invitation to extend his visit, or at least to repeat the fun of last night.

Armed with this resolution, Perian made his way into the sitting room, where all his intentions immediately went up in smoke as his heart sank. Brannal was sitting there waiting for him, and one look at that carefully expressionless face and those tight shoulders told Perian this wasn’t going to go any of the ways he had been hoping for.

“How are you feeling?”

Brannal had asked this question a number of times over the days Perian had been here, and never had it sounded as emotionless and performative as it did now.

“Quite well, thank you,” Perian said, attempting as little emotion in his own voice, though with markedly less success.

“There’s tea.”

Brannal gestured, as though Perian couldn’t see for himself that there was a teapot on the table, but he nodded and sat down anyway, allowing Brannal to pour because that gave him a couple of moments to regroup and ready himself for the dismissal that he really should have considered was coming.

Perian had proved last night that he was altogether functional, after all, and Brannal had clearly not been looking for someone to share his room.

Brannal handed over the cup, and Perian took it and sipped from it. It was a little too hot, but that scarcely mattered. He watched the curls of steam rise from the liquid and disappear into nothing, rather like Perian’s foolish hopes and dreams. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t really been thinking with his head, now had he? What would a Mage Warrior want with him? Perian certainly hadn’t shown himself to particular advantage. The heat from the cup seeped into his hands, but Perian still felt a little cold.

Perian cleared his throat. “As I said, I’m feeling much better, so I should probably be on my way.”

Dark eyes bore into his. “If you’re sure you’re well enough.”

It was Perian’s turn to eye Brannal, trying to figure out if this was actually an invitation to stay. But no, barring something a lot more explicit than that, Perian had to assume the comment was meant at face value.

“I’m fine,” he therefore confirmed, making sure the words were casual—and then worrying that they sounded too dismissive, as if he were making light of the whole situation. “I do want to thank you again for everything you’ve done for me.”

“That’s not necessary.” The words were cool, almost dismissive.

Perian stiffened and felt his own temper flare. Was this because Perian was feeling better and Brannal didn’t have to put up with him anymore? Or had he gotten what he wanted last night, and now he was done with Perian? He wouldn’t be the first to behave in such a way. They didn’t actually know one another. Clearly.

“All right,” Perian said, rising to his feet.

If the man didn’t even want Perian’s gratitude, then his absence was really the only thing he could give.

He was scarcely even feeling grateful at the moment, but he still had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from thanking the man again. But it was not desired, and even if Perian thought the man was being a bit of an ass now, hehadsaved Perian’s life.

“Goodbye, then.”

And with that awkward utterance, Perian headed for the door, a door which it was just occurring to him he’d not actually been out of in all the time he’d been here. But he wasn’t about to ask Brannal for directions, so he just continued on his way, closed the door carefully behind him—so much more mature than slamming it like he wanted to—and made it about two steps down the hallway before several things happened at once.

One, Perian became aware that not only was he dirty, unkempt, and not properly dressed, but he was also barefoot. Two, he found himself in a long corridor with a lot of doors, and he had no idea where he was going. And three, the door across and slightly down from Brannal’s opened and two men leaned out. They took him in and then looked back at Brannal’s door.

The taller one with dark hair smiled faintly. The smaller man with the brightest blue eyes Perian had ever seen grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. It looked like he shoved the other man into the hallway so he could face Perian.

“Well, well, well. Brannal has beenso busythe last few days. And we’ve never seen anyone come out of his rooms looking like you do right now.”

“What?” Perian demanded flatly. “Recovering from being attacked by three men who thought ‘no’ wasn’t an acceptable answer?”

The smile fell right off the man’s face. He looked genuinely shocked, and Perian felt a little bad. It wasn’thisfault he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion while Perian was in a rotten mood.

The door behind him suddenly opened, Brannal calling, “Perian, wait, do you need—”

He cut off abruptly as he realized Perian was right there and the corridor was not empty.

A biting voice interrupted them. “I’d say he needs a good scrubbing. And for you to pay a lot better for your pleasures.”

Perian turned the other way to find a man with red hair, green eyes, and a look of derision to match his tone.

Perian was very done with this entire morning, and he snapped with more temper than sense, “I take my payments in reciprocal pleasure only, so I can assure you that I wasamplyrewarded last night.”

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