26. Conrad
CONRAD
Conrad couldn’t put his finger on how his friendship with Sage was shifting, but he felt sure that it was.
Holding Sage in his arms in the lake, with the other man wrapped around him, trusting him, was barely different than curling together in the bed.
And yet, it had felt profound in a way Conrad couldn’t explain.
The way their voices had been mere whispers in the dark as they exchanged bits of themselves had felt more vulnerable than any of their previous confessions.
And now, with Sage sitting beside him at breakfast, Conrad found his fondness for the man growing even more.
It made him oddly wistful in a way that he had never before experienced.
He was worried about what lay before him when he eventually left the safety of the house party—details and questions that he felt sure he ought to have worked out prior to leaving Bristol.
How was he going to get to London? Where was he going to live?
What would he do before the Council convened in the autumn?
He had settled on a vague plan of seeking out the docks in London and finding work until the rest of the Council returned.
Conrad now found himself adding Sage to his questions about the future.
Would they see each other in London? Would Sage want to continue the closeness of this friendship back in the city that housed his scandalous reputation when they were no longer pretending to be an item?
And come to think of that , Conrad had to admit to himself that there was very little pretense on his part.
He had never lied to Sage, or anyone else, beyond some hints at activity that wasn’t actually happening.
His affection for the other man was genuine.
He had a feeling that Sage was no more pretending than he was, but he was unsure of how far that extended.
What would their friendship look like when they were in London?
He sipped his tea and glanced at his companion.
The wistfulness was a new feeling for him—not one that brought an excess of melancholy, as Conrad rarely tended towards such moodiness.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that sleeping alone would be much lonelier than it ever had been before.
He would miss the weight of Sage pressed up against him when they were no longer sharing a bed.
He would miss the smell of rose and almond as he undressed for the evening.
He would miss whispered secrets, the way Sage’s laughter always seemed to take him by surprise, and the taste of Sage’s lips on his own.
He’d had a number of friends with whom he’d shared kisses and bedsport, but none whose trust felt as fragile and precious.
As much as Conrad prided himself on his kindness and generosity, he wasn’t sure there was anyone else he’d ever met for whom he’d have prioritized cleaning a cravat in the middle of the night over going to bed.
And yet…he would do it all over again, and gladly.
Although, he thought, as he smiled into his tea, perhaps with less catastrophic muddiness.
As if he’d read his mind, Roger stood and said that he was going to get the study prepared for more castings.
Harriet groaned. “See you in a few days,” she said gloomily.
“We went to the lake together yesterday!” Roger protested.
Wyndham stood as well and put a hand to Roger’s lower back. “This project might take us a couple of days. Perhaps we can offer you something in exchange.”
Harriet’s expression grew shrewd. “Such as?”
Wyndham grinned and his gaze flicked over to Sage and Conrad. “It’s been a while since we had a riddle night. We can plan for one tomorrow.”
Harriet clapped her hands together. “Capital! That will give me two whole days to find the perfect one.” She looked positively wicked in a way that did not bode well for poor Roger’s sensibilities.
Conrad chuckled and stood, reaching for Sage’s hand when he stood, as well.
“You’re taking Mr. Ravenwing with you, too!” Harriet pouted. “I call that too bad.”
Sage looked taken aback to be included. Wyndham brushed past them, with Roger in tow. “You will be far too busy finding the most salacious riddle for us,” he said. “And it wouldn’t do for you to have our two riddle champions on the loose. They might get a hint.”
“Mmm,” she said. “True.”
Fern laughed and kissed Harriet on the cheek.
Cyril shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”
“Nonsense,” she said primly. “You love it.”
Conrad followed his hosts out of the room, up the stairs, and into the study.
As Wyndham walked into the space, the lights blazed brighter and a wind pushed past the curtains, bringing in a wave of fresh air.
Sage’s soiled clothes were where they had left them.
The towels and Conrad’s clothes had been removed.
Roger explained apologetically that he’d handed them over to the staff so they didn’t get ruined by sitting overnight.
Conrad assured him it was perfectly fine. “These items are the ones of importance anyway.” He held up the waistcoat and examined it, helped by the better lighting. “I can see what you meant about the staining here,” he said to Sage.
Roger ripped off a piece of spellpaper and handed it over.
The pencil from the previous night was still on the floor, along with the ingredients Conrad had used.
He laughed when he saw that an additional one had been placed next to the rest. He scooped up the head of cabbage and tossed it up and caught it.
“Now I can prove to you how useful it is.”
Sage wrinkled his nose as he sat on the chaise lounge. “Such a strange creature.”
Conrad grinned and looked down at the vegetable. “Although, I confess I’ve never used a fresh one. We usually boil them first. It works for dinner and casting.”
Roger hummed and bent over his desk to make a note.
“It wouldn’t be bad for you to use the raw materials too,” Wyndham reasoned. “I can see to it that it isn’t too powerful.”
Conrad breathed out in relief. “That will do nicely, thank you. Shall we start with the spell I used last night then? And move on to the raw materials after?” With the rest of the group’s agreement, he set the cabbage aside and began preparing.
It felt strange to be casting the spell again, with less urgency and a great deal more eyes on him.
“Why don’t we do one article of clothing at a time?” Wyndham suggested. “That way we can draw out the project for longer.”
“And we can always get more items from the staff,” Roger added.
Conrad placed the waistcoat on the paper and cast. As soon as he was done, he picked it up and checked over where he’d seen the slight stain before.
He passed it to Sage for approval. Sage looked over it with painstaking care.
Then he folded it onto his lap and nodded, a small smile at the corner of his lips.
Conrad beamed. “Glad it passed muster.”
Sage’s smile grew slightly. I trust you . The words were not spoken out loud, but Conrad felt them in the smile. Sage’s trust felt all the more precious knowing that it was a secret between them. His chest warmed at the thought and he moved on to the next article of clothing.
Wyndham took a seat on the chaise lounge beside Sage, crossing one knee elegantly over the other and leaning his elbow against the arm rest. “One thing that never fails to fascinate me is the way that every person’s magic has such a unique personality.
I find that raw materials bring this out more when it comes to human magic.
Why don’t you try the cabbage on this next casting, Conrad?
That way Sage can feel what your magic is like when you use it. ”
Conrad looked up to see Sage’s startled expression.
For all his work with the councilmembers, he and Sage had barely spoken about magic.
He had no idea if Sage had felt it or, frankly, had any opinion on it—aside from a teasing snobbery about some ingredients.
He also had no idea how to adjust the calculations when it came to fresh cabbage.
He glanced at Roger. “I might need a bit of help with that, if you don’t mind. ”
Roger grinned, ever happy to be of assistance, and bustled over, grabbing three books on his way.
They both knelt on the floor together, and discussed the value of one sigil over the other, whether certain calculations might be better suited to such a plain item, and how much magic a cabbage could provide in the first place.
At length, they agreed upon a strategy and Conrad bent over a fresh spellpaper to prepare everything. Sage and Wyndham had remained silent throughout the exchange, but as Conrad wrote down the necessary pieces, Wyndham turned to Sage. “Remarkable, isn’t it? Human magic is surprisingly complex.”
Sage gave Wyndham a wary look and then shrugged. “I’m sure I wouldn’t bother if I had to go through all that every time I needed to cast a spell.”
Wyndham laughed. “You get used to it. Roger is quite brilliant when it comes to this sort of thing. The sheer knowledge he holds in his head is astounding.”
Roger blushed, but looked undeniably pleased by the compliment.
Sage cleared his throat. “Indeed. Roger is probably one of the cleverest people I’ve ever met.”
Conrad felt as though a sliver of tension in the room that he hadn’t even been aware of fizzled out with Sage’s words.
Wyndham relaxed and bounced one foot idly.
“Agreed. Although I’m pleased to note that there isn’t a single person in this house who is foolish.
It’s nice to know we’ve surrounded ourselves with intelligent friends. ”
Sage swallowed and clasped his hands in his lap, on top of the folded waistcoat. “Yes,” he said softly.
Conrad stole a look at Roger, who gave him a small secret smile, and then he bent over the paper to hide his own grin. When he was satisfied with what he’d written and Roger had checked over his work, Conrad sat back on his heels. “Right,” he said. “Ready?”