Chapter Seventeen #2
He carefully raised the issue, because the last thing he wanted was for Kinan to think he was hiding him.
There were all sorts of reasons why it made sense for Kinan not to want to share that he was involved with a Mage Warrior—especially this Mage Warrior—but Cormal wanted to make sure Kinan had choices.
Kinan shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to try to explain it to anyone yet.
They’re not going to be looking at you and me, they’re going to be thinking about how it’s physically impossible.
They’re going to ask nosy questions, and we’re either going to have to explain like it’s any of their business or seem like we’re hiding something—and suddenly it’s all become this theory up for debate about whether or not we can actually be together when I can’t touch anyone, and it’s not about us being people at all! ”
That was not, at all, what Cormal had been thinking.
That almost made it sound like Kinan would happily and proudly announce to the world that he was with Cormal.
Which was kind but ridiculous. But he did understand what Kinan was saying.
This was one of the sweet man’s pain points, and given the way the rumor mill worked at the castle, he wasn’t wrong.
So Cormal was happy to spend private time with Kinan whenever he could, and happy to introduce him to all the ways he could think of that they could pleasure one another by touching themselves.
And in any other spare moment that he had, he was still reading through all those dry-as-dust magic books.
He’d meant it when he said he wouldn’t stop looking.
Even if it meant that Kinan would be able to touch others again and he realized that Cormal was really not the best bet.
Once he had the whole world open to him, Cormal would happily step aside and watch him spread his wings.
It would hurt, but all he wanted was for Kinan to be happy.
It also pushed Cormal to advance with that most important apology. Even if it was going to end badly, he couldn’t have it weighing him down anymore. He needed to beg them for help, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t apologize.
He made sure that Livala was feeling comfortable and settled in, that she was confident enough to join the rest of the novices, and that she felt safe with the Water Mages in an emergency.
“I can still spark if I get startled or upset,” she confessed with a frown.
“A few weeks ago,” Cormal said, “when I was startled, I threw a fireball down the corridor.”
She snorted, because they’d had plenty of conversations about his temper. Thankfully, her shoulders unbunched, just as he’d hoped.
His lips tipped up. “So, yes, this is definitely an occasion of ‘do as I say, not as a do.’ I’m the prime example of why it’s important to learn to properly control your temper from the beginning.”
Instead, Cormal had sort of… subsumed his temper because he’d never been willing to stand up to his father, and he’d let it out explosively when he was alone.
In retrospect, it was a terrible precedent to set.
How had he never thought about that before?
Shaking the thought away for the moment, he focused on Livala.
“It’s completely understandable that you’re still causing sparks occasionally. That’s a perfectly natural reaction to a magic you’re just learning to control. But you are learning. You’ve gained so much control in the time you’ve been here. I believe in you.”
She squared her shoulders, looking more resolute. “And I’ve got the bucket of water by my bed, just in case.”
“Exactly,” he agreed.
She’d not needed it once so far. Accidents during training or while she was awake, yes. But not while she was sleeping.
“Even if an accident happens, that’s all right,” he assured her. “We’ve got mitigations in place, and you’ll keep training until it’s second nature.”
Cormal’s father had always emphasized the need for perfection. Any failure was a disappointment, and the control that Cormal had desperately pulled together as a result had so many faults in it.
Livala leaned in and hugged him, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Thanks, Cormal.”
Surprised, it took him a moment to hug her back, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.
He’d assumed that the time she now spent with Princess Larenia would rid her of any nascent affection she had for him, but so far, that didn’t seem to have happened.
She pulled away, beamed at him, and headed off to her next class.
His father was an ass, but Cormal was more glad than he could say that Livala was here.
Setting everything up was easy, because proposing a surprise inspection was just the sort of thing he could be expected to do.
He played up the idea of catching people misbehaving.
This made Molun roll his eyes a lot, but he didn’t actually object, and it neatly took care of the concern that anyone might be looking out for his coming when he didn’t actually intend to arrive.
With luck (so much luck), he would set out on the actual inspection only a few days later than everyone else thought.
He’d deliberately kept the timeline vague.
“Who knows what I’ll find,” he pointed out. “I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”
“Maybe everyone actually knows how to do their job,” Delana suggested dryly.
“Maybe,” he agreed blandly. “Maybe they’re not all having parties just because we’re not there to watch them.”
Molun huffed, but he looked amused.
Cormal continued as casually as he could, “So there’s no point in locking in plans. That would defeat the whole purpose. And since it’s just me, I’m not inconveniencing anyone; I can find an inn to stay at without a lot of advance planning, or if I really need to, I can sleep outside.”
Delana looked skeptical. Cormal hated winter inspections for a reason.
He conjured two fireballs. “I can always keep warm.”
She rolled her eyes.
With his best supercilious expression, he added, “I don’t know what you two with all the water do, but I’m quite comfortable outside.”
As he’d intended, the discussion devolved at this point into slinging insults about one another’s elements and Delana reminding him about the many, many times she’d heard him complain about cold-weather inspections.
And then it was just running through the last of the plans. Molun and Delana were perfectly able to handle the castle without him. Livala had plenty of support, including her grandfather, who’d always been able to calm her at home.
All the Mage Warriors could keep reading without him, and the Prince and Princess would still be here for extra motivation.
It was all coming together perfectly.
He thought he had it all planned out and knew exactly what the stakes were, which made it all the more gutting when Kinan asked him a question a few nights before he planned to leave.
They were lying in bed together, side by side, because Cormal had realized that Kinan liked to be close to him, even if they couldn’t touch.
Too many people gave him a wide berth, like they were worried the condition was catching or thought there was no point in getting close when they couldn’t touch.
(All right, and some probably didn’t get close because he was a prince, but that wasn’t helping anything!)
Cormal was happy to get as close as Kinan wanted as often as possible.
It was late, and Kinan’s voice was soft and uncertain. “Do you think if Perian gave me more energy, it would help?”
Cormal stared at him, stunned speechless.
Perian had passed out following his attempt and been in a coma for days.
If Brannal hadn’t put a shield up to separate them, who was to say what might have happened?
It had been obvious that Perian was at the end of his abilities, and Cormal and the Queen had assumed that meant he’d done everything that he could forever.
It had never, for so much as a moment, occurred to Cormal to ask what would happen if Perian tried again.
Kinan had asked the question so quietly, like it was a dream he wasn’t sure he should admit to having—because Cormal had driven Perian out of the castle and come so very close to killing him.
He could feel the blood draining from his face, and that hopeful, wistful expression on Kinan’s face vanished in a look of alarm.
“How can you even talk to me?” Cormal asked, and his voice cracked.
He’d gotten so used to thinking that it was Brannal and Perian and even the Princess that he’d most hurt. But here was yet more proof of his blindness, of the harm he’d done so casually to Kinan. He hadn’t even thought of it.
Fire and water. What else might he not have thought of? Were there whole ideas in these books that he was missing because he was a thoughtless, senseless ass? Was a solution staring him in the face but he was so blind he couldn’t see it?
“Cormal. Cormal!”
His attention snapped back to Kinan, who was looking at him with so much concern.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said urgently. “That’s never what I mean, I swear.”
Cormal could have cried. Because here he was, making Kinan reassure him while Cormal was the one who’d maybe ruined his life.
Kinan had asked the secret hope of his heart, and Cormal had made it all about him. Again. Kinan tried to touch him, his hands on Cormal’s arm, and Cormal reached out and set his own hovering on top.
Cormal cleared his throat. “Please don’t apologize. I’m sorry. You have every right to ask that question. I should be reassuring you, and instead you’re reassuring me. I’m so sorry.”
But Kinan was shaking his head. “No, no, it doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I promise.”
Cormal pressed his eyes closed for a moment, trying to force back tears. How could they both be trying to frantically reassure one another when Cormal was a terrible human being?
He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to rally. “I don’t know if that would help,” he admitted, voice thick. “But I can talk to the Queen myself about the idea. Maybe, uh, not quite yet. I think a bit more distance might help.”
There was no evidence that she was having life-altering realizations while Cormal was, and Cormal might as well ask Perian in person first—if Brannal didn’t kill Cormal outright.
Cormal was such an idiot. He was immensely frustrated with himself, but that was only distressing Kinan, so he tried to push those thoughts away for the moment. He met Kinan’s eyes.
“I said I wouldn’t stop at anything to fix this. I mean it.” He swallowed. “You might still need to remind me of things when I’m too narrow-minded to see them, but please keep asking questions like that. We need to explore every possibility. Truly.”
The last thing Cormal wanted was for Kinan to feel like he couldn’t talk about this because Cormal was overreacting. Kinan stared into Cormal’s eyes, his gray gaze intent. Cormal wasn’t sure what Kinan saw, but he nodded and relaxed a bit.
“I’m sorry,” Cormal couldn’t help but repeat. “I thought I’d gotten over everything about that time, but apparently, I’m still an idiot.”
He’d got the tone right this time, because Kinan huffed something that was almost a laugh and curled up next to him again.
Cormal blew out a breath in relief.
It made him only more determined to go and make his apology, to make clear that if Perian was willing, then Cormal wouldn’t get in his way.
To the contrary, he’d protect Perian with everything in him—which no one in the country would believe unless Cormal could explain this adequately in person.
That might be an insurmountable task, but Cormal had never been more determined.