Page 46 of Seducing the Sorcerer
Since they were being so honest about things, perhaps Fenn could just come out and ask if Morgrim had intentions to marry Aramella? Fenn bunched the mouth of the sack up, as if he was worried things might fall out. It gave him an excuse to look away from Morgrim’s sharp eyes.
“In fact, they...ah...they say...” But the words dried up in Fenn’s mouth. He was making himself too obvious. He’d look a right pillock.
“What do they say?” Morgrim asked.
“Well, that you might...you know.” Oh, Gods. He should never have started this, but the problem was now he couldn’t think of anything else to say but ‘marry her’.
Morgrim raised an eyebrow. “Yes? I might...?”
“Ain’t none of my business anyway. Forget I asked.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Good. Because I didn’t ought.”
Morgrim made an exasperated sound. “I wish you would just say it!”
Fenn opened his mouth and the words “marry her” came out, a bit too loud. He went hot all over. Had he really said it? Oh Gods. Yes, he had.
“Oh. That,” Morgrim said.
Fenn waited, barely breathing, fiddling with the rough neck of the sack. He had a sense that Morgrim was weighing whether to answer, but in the end Morgrim only did the shrug-bow-smile thing he did when he wasn’t going to be drawn, and said, “I should bathe and put ointment on this scratch or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
So that meant “none of your business” right enough.
Despite feeling a bit like he’d been put in his place, Fenn seized upon the change of topic almost gratefully. “She’s right though. Cut like that seems nothing but you want to look after it.”
Morgrim indicated the horse. “So, you decided to try flying again?”
“Weren’t planned.”
“Oh?”
Fenn sighed. “I left that horse in your old mews with the door shut. And it was shut too. I checked. Went into town. Twenty minutes later I’m nearly done with my errands when there it is, large as life, sailing in the shop like a galleon. So, I pushed it out, but a crowd gathered and since it’s more reliable under saddle—not that I had a saddle, but so speak—I got on.” He mopped his brow at the memory of all the faces. “And swipe me if it don’t take off. Anyway, we flew back here, so that was all right.”
“I suppose a great many people saw you?”
“Many? Oh no. Only half the blame town and his sister.”
Morgrim smiled. “Well, there’s a tale that’ll spread like wildfire.”
“Aren’t they too jaded, these city folk? Don’t they see flying teakettles and the like popping out of this tower every day?”
The kitten had bored of the leaf. It batted at the hem of Morgrim’s robe, rolled over in surprise at having made contact, and darted away. Morgrim’s lips twitched.
“There are the clouds, of course,” Morgrim said. “Although everyone’s used to those by now.”
“What I don’t understand is how the horse got out,” Fenn said. “I made sure that door was shut. Hope I don’t find it off its hinges.”
“Perhaps it was magic.” Morgrim looked away.
Was it Fenn’s imagination, or did the sorcerer look a tiny bit embarrassed? Could he have opened the door? Had he perhaps wanted to try riding the horse, only it had flown off to Fenn before he could mount it?
“Now, where’s that kitten?” Morgrim added, in the tone of a man changing the subject again. He looked around and spotted it pouncing on the dead leaf. He scooped the kitten up, leaf and all, and it settled against him with dignified presumption, as if it had been born to grace the arm of the court sorcerer.
“Black, see,” Fenn said before he could stop himself. “Matches your robe.”
“You chose a black one deliberately?”
