Page 54 of The Lost Art of Seducing a Mage Warrior

“It’s Brannal,” she mumbled.

He didn’t understand what she meant at first, but then the bush rustled, and a moment later, Brannal pushed his way into the secret hiding place. How had she—?

Brannal looked grave and very concerned, but his expression softened a little as his eyes fell on the blanket-wrapped bundle that had taken over Perian’s lap. Renny refused to move.

“Everyone is concerned about you, pr—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Renny said, refusing to look at Brannal but not hesitant to interrupt him.

“Cormal would like to apologize.”

Renny’s fingers tightened where she was still clutching at Perian.

“I won’t talk to him. Iwon’t!”

Perian rubbed a hand down her back and shot Brannal a look. “Renny, no one’s going to make you talk to him if you don’t want to.”

“Your mother is concerned,” Brannal continued.

Renny sniffed, but then she blew out a breath, and this sounded a bit more resigned. Perian gave her a pat.

“You don’t want your mother to worry, do you?”

A little shake of the head, where it was still buried against Perian. He had felt like that this morning, like if he could just curl up small enough and not face reality, maybe nothing bad would happen. Or at least nothingworse.

“What do you say we get you cleaned up a little. I’ve not looked yet, but I’m pretty sure you smeared snot all over me.”

A snort that was almost a little bit like a laugh, and then a tear-stained face tilted up to look at Perian. He smiled gently at her.

“Oh, yes,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Snoteverywhere.”

“Noteverywhere,” she said indignantly.

He nodded, widened his eyes, and intoned, “Everywhere.”

And there it was, a little smile as her lips tipped up at the corners. There was a tight ball in Perian’s chest that made it feel like he couldn’t quite breathe properly. He knew grief, and he didn’t like that Renny felt so much of it, but he also knew it wasn’t any use for anyone else to tell you how to feel or when to feel it. But you could maybe try to mitigate it a little.

Perian pulled out his handkerchief and then flourished it in the air.

“Brannal, a little assistance, if you please.”

A moment later, Perian was running the now-wet handkerchief over Renny’s face, wiping it carefully clean. When he’d finished, Brannal handed over his own handkerchief so that Perian could dry her face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Apart from terrible.”

She nodded. “Ever so slightly less terrible.”

He nodded back. “Do you think you had better go and see your mother now?”

She shrugged, and she didn’t let go of Perian or make any move to actually stand up.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Of Cormal?”

She shook her head.

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