Page 8 of The Lost Art of Seducing a Mage Warrior

He drained the water and filled the tub one more time to give himself a final wash to make sure that he was really, properly clean. He climbed out and toweled himself dry, then looked in the mirror. He could almost pretend that the last week hadn’t happened, were it not for a slightly wounded look in his eyes, the faint traces of a few bruises, and the knot that was still there in his belly, making him wish for things that he couldn’t possibly have.

Then his stomach gurgled, reminding him altogether more prosaically that he’d scarcely had a couple mouthfuls of tea for breakfast, and it had to be nearly lunchtime now. He asked the attendant in the hall for food to be served to him in his little sitting room because he didn’t think he could manage more people today.

Back in his room, he sat in front of the vanity and selected beads for his hair. Years ago, his father had bought him a small metal container with clever hinges that allowed different sections to move out of the way to reveal still more beads. After considering for a long moment, Perian went with three clay beads painted a deep purple, which stood out but not too much in his dark hair. He’d always identified as male, and he’d amassed quite a collection since his bead ceremony when he was nine. His father had gifted him with a wide variety, and Perian had bought more while in town on his sporadic visits over the years.

He braided the strands of hair to keep the beads in place and then loosely tied everything back once more. His hair had a bit of curl to it, and he preferred not to pull it back too tightly. He wondered what had happened to the green glass beads he’d been wearing when he’d been attacked. Then he wondered if he actually still wanted them. He supposed it was a moot point. They were gone now.

The food arrived, and he was soon consuming a perfectly pleasant repast. It in no way resembled the food he had been eating when he was recovering with Brannal, and he rolled his eyes at himself as he thought of the man yet again. But perhaps he should give himself a little grace. It was only this morning, after all, that he’d woken in Brannal’s bed with particularly unrealistic dreams.

He pushed the last of his food aside, no longer hungry. Then he went through to the bedroom and collapsed back on the bed, limbs spread. He stared up at the ceiling. Like he’d told Nisal, he wasn’t altogether certain that he’d repeat this overall experience if given the chance. But when he closed his eyes and let himself dwell on what had happened last night, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

More than anything, he was having trouble reconciling the two parts, last night and this morning. His father had been a canny merchant for most of his life, and he had taught Perian that people could behave in different ways solely to achieve their own goals.

This city had certainly confirmed that lesson to him, but he still found it hard to reconcile Brannal’s behavior—even as he recognized that could simply be because he didn’twantit to mean what it likely did. Brannal might not often take people to bed according to his fellow Mage Warriors, but he might still have simply availed himself of the opportunity that Perian had literally thrown in his lap. He snorted to himself. No, he couldn’t really blame the man for taking what Perian had very clearly been offering.

Still, that didn’t mean Brannal had needed to end everything quite so abruptly this morning. Perian could actually take a hint, and it did not need to be the size of the anvil that Brannal had dropped on the breakfast table.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there when there was a knock at the door. Assuming the staff had come to clear away his dishes, he called, “Come in,” and heard the door open and then shut. There was silence for a long moment, and Perian was just wondering if the staff could possibly bethatquiet when a voice called a little uncertainly from his sitting room.

“Perian?”

He bolted upright because he recognized that voice, even if the tone wasn’t one he was used to. He blew out a breath. If he’d had the slightest idea that it could beBrannalat the door, he would have… what? What exactly would he have done? Closed his eyes and pretended that he wasn’t there? Left the man in the hall? Perian drew another breath, let it out slowly, and then rose to his feet and made himself walk out into the sitting room.

Brannal was hovering by the entrance, and his eyes snapped to Perian’s when he appeared in the doorway. Perian gestured.

“I thought you were here for the dishes.”

Brannal blinked. “Ah, no.”

Perian huffed a breath, bleakly amused that the other man appeared to be so wrong-footed, only then he realized how Brannal had to have found out where he was.

“Foolishly,” Perian said tightly, “I actually thought Nisal wanted to help me.”

It stung, more than he thought it would. He reminded himself that it wasn’t like he really knew any of these people.

Brannal’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Nisal absolutely wanted to help you. I had to promise I was here to apologize, and they threatened to toss me off the top of the tallest tower if I upset you more.”

Perian eyed Brannal up and down and raised an eyebrow. “You’re twelve times bigger than they are.”

Brannal huffed a laugh. “They control air.”

Perian thought of the gust of wind that had blown Perian’s attackers away from him. He was pretty sure Brannal could control air as well as fire. It was rare for a Mage to be able to control multiple elements, or so he’d always understood, so Perian was quite sure Brannal could handle himself.

“Why are you actually here?” he asked.

Frowning, Brannal asked, “What do you mean?”

“You had to promise them that you were here to apologize.”

He continued to look confused for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed, and his tone was stiff. “I meant that in truth. I am not in the habit of lying.”

“Just of bedding someone and throwing them out the next morning?” Perian accused.

Brannal looked genuinely offended. “You’re the one who said you were going to leave!”

“I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Perian said tightly.

“I didn’t say that.”

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