know about it.
Mags wasn’t entirely sure what Nikolas’s reaction to that would be. He had shown himself to be a reasonable man. His objections to Bear and Lena getting married on the sly had all been rational ones that had everything to do with political situations. Everyone knew that Mags and Amily were a couple. No one objected to that. There would be no political repercussions. . . .
But the difference was that Nikolas was not dealing with a couple of younglings in the abstract, he was dealing with his “apprentice” and his daughter.
From what Mags could tell, based on what his friends here said, things he’d read, and things Dallen had dropped, a man could be perfectly rational about a pair of younglings coupling, even give tacit approval (at least to the young man) right up until that couplinginvolved his daughter. Then rational thought went flying right out the window.
So . . . for now, kissing and cuddling was all he was going to get.
And, oh, how he envied Bear.
It was, truly, a distinct advantage to get the entire bathing room to yourself of a morning—especially when certain parts of you were not at all pleased about the situation with your girl.
Mind, of all of the many, many things that he loved about being a Trainee, the ability to have a hot bath whenever he chose was very high on the list. For a simple, uncomplicated pleasure, a hot bath was very difficult to beat.
He was far too early for Bear and Lena to join him for breakfast. Unlike him, they were anything but early risers, and they had preferred staying up as late as possible even before they had gone from friendship to love. They both had bought treasures at the Fair they would have to show each other, and then . . . well, he knew the sorts of things that he and Amily would have been doing if there hadn’t been a hundred busybodies watching them while trying not to look as if they were dong so, and not all of those things involved being undressed and in bed together. Last night Bear and Lena had probably done some similar things and stayed up later than usual.
Bear in particular. He probably would have had stories to tell Lena about some of the rare and imported herbs he’d gotten. He always talked to vendors, every chance he got, because one of the things he was always telling Mags was “No knowledge is ever wasted.” Lena might well have garnered some inspiration from those stories. If she did, well, he knew her; she would be up half the night writing down the bones of a new song. And even if she wasn’t inspired right that moment, Bear was constitutionally incapable of telling a brief story.
Even without the Fair yesterday, it was only even odds that Bear and Lena would be up at the same time he was. Mags was almost always one of the first people in the dining hall in the morning. And when he wasn’t, it was generally because he had kitchen duty that morning, and ate there with the rest of the helpers.
In his opinion, sleeping late was overrated. He much preferred being the proverbial early bird, because in this case, it wasn’t a nasty worm he got but the first of the breakfast dishes straight out of the kitchen, so fresh that you couldn’t eat bites without blowing on them. It was lovely getting biscuits or bread still hot from the ovens so that the butter melted in them and soaked into them, and the first round of whatever was on the menu was always better than the later ones.
It was also going to be a good thing for him to be done early. Like him, Dean Caelen was an early riser, and Mags was going to have to find out what classes he was in and how he was going to catch up with them.
He wasn’t looking forward to that part. The Dean couldn’t have anything but bad news for him.
Because he was fortnights behind everyone else, thanks to being dragged across two countries drugged and semiconscious. There was going to be a hellish amount of catching up, and there wasn’t going to be a choice.
He finished his
Mags wasn’t entirely sure what Nikolas’s reaction to that would be. He had shown himself to be a reasonable man. His objections to Bear and Lena getting married on the sly had all been rational ones that had everything to do with political situations. Everyone knew that Mags and Amily were a couple. No one objected to that. There would be no political repercussions. . . .
But the difference was that Nikolas was not dealing with a couple of younglings in the abstract, he was dealing with his “apprentice” and his daughter.
From what Mags could tell, based on what his friends here said, things he’d read, and things Dallen had dropped, a man could be perfectly rational about a pair of younglings coupling, even give tacit approval (at least to the young man) right up until that couplinginvolved his daughter. Then rational thought went flying right out the window.
So . . . for now, kissing and cuddling was all he was going to get.
And, oh, how he envied Bear.
It was, truly, a distinct advantage to get the entire bathing room to yourself of a morning—especially when certain parts of you were not at all pleased about the situation with your girl.
Mind, of all of the many, many things that he loved about being a Trainee, the ability to have a hot bath whenever he chose was very high on the list. For a simple, uncomplicated pleasure, a hot bath was very difficult to beat.
He was far too early for Bear and Lena to join him for breakfast. Unlike him, they were anything but early risers, and they had preferred staying up as late as possible even before they had gone from friendship to love. They both had bought treasures at the Fair they would have to show each other, and then . . . well, he knew the sorts of things that he and Amily would have been doing if there hadn’t been a hundred busybodies watching them while trying not to look as if they were dong so, and not all of those things involved being undressed and in bed together. Last night Bear and Lena had probably done some similar things and stayed up later than usual.
Bear in particular. He probably would have had stories to tell Lena about some of the rare and imported herbs he’d gotten. He always talked to vendors, every chance he got, because one of the things he was always telling Mags was “No knowledge is ever wasted.” Lena might well have garnered some inspiration from those stories. If she did, well, he knew her; she would be up half the night writing down the bones of a new song. And even if she wasn’t inspired right that moment, Bear was constitutionally incapable of telling a brief story.
Even without the Fair yesterday, it was only even odds that Bear and Lena would be up at the same time he was. Mags was almost always one of the first people in the dining hall in the morning. And when he wasn’t, it was generally because he had kitchen duty that morning, and ate there with the rest of the helpers.
In his opinion, sleeping late was overrated. He much preferred being the proverbial early bird, because in this case, it wasn’t a nasty worm he got but the first of the breakfast dishes straight out of the kitchen, so fresh that you couldn’t eat bites without blowing on them. It was lovely getting biscuits or bread still hot from the ovens so that the butter melted in them and soaked into them, and the first round of whatever was on the menu was always better than the later ones.
It was also going to be a good thing for him to be done early. Like him, Dean Caelen was an early riser, and Mags was going to have to find out what classes he was in and how he was going to catch up with them.
He wasn’t looking forward to that part. The Dean couldn’t have anything but bad news for him.
Because he was fortnights behind everyone else, thanks to being dragged across two countries drugged and semiconscious. There was going to be a hellish amount of catching up, and there wasn’t going to be a choice.
He finished his
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