27. Sage
SAGE
Sage fretted at his jacket where it sat crumpled in the middle of Conrad’s spellpaper, surrounded by the lines he had drawn, the dry ingredients he’d measured out, and the single leaf of cabbage sitting ominously in one corner.
It was not his most favorite jacket, not even close, but he felt as though he was about to watch it burst into flames.
No matter how much confidence any of them had in Conrad’s ability to perform the spell, Sage could not forget the word he’d used to describe raw ingredients: volatile.
Conrad sat back with his hands on his knees. “Right. Ready?”
Sage made a strangled sort of sound and sat forward. “Are we certain nothing is going to happen to my coat?”
Wyndham arched a brow at him. “Aside from being cleaner than you found it? Unlikely. But perhaps you would be more comfortable if Conrad practiced on something else the first time?”
Sage nodded, offering an apologetic look to Conrad. He did not seem to take any offense to the suggestion.
Wyndham stood gracefully from the chaise lounge and pulled an embroidered handkerchief from his breast pocket, shaking it out by the corner.
Sage recognized it as the kind he had always used.
After perusing the top of Roger’s desk, he found a pot of ink and promptly dipped one corner of the handkerchief into it, spoiling the fabric.
After folding it over twice in his palm, he gave the entire thing a squeeze.
By the time he handed it to Conrad, it had the look of a terrier’s coat, white with multiple large, uneven black patches.
“That ought to do nicely,” Wyndham said as he resumed his position on the chaise beside Sage. “Let’s see it, then.”
Conrad moved the jacket aside and replaced it with the handkerchief.
“The smaller bulk of the fabric should matter little in this case,” Roger reassured him. “You’ll need the extra power with something as staining as ink.”
“Spoken from experience,” Wyndham added.
Roger flapped a hand in his direction. “Go on, Conrad.”
Conrad cast his spell. Sage watched intently, hands pressed together and tucked between his thighs as he leaned closer to watch.
The blots of ink faded from black to a light gray shade.
He shifted his attention to Conrad’s face to determine if he was pleased with the outcome or not.
It was difficult to tell, as he had been smiling from start to finish.
“Well done!” Roger patted Conrad’s shoulder before looking up at his husband, pushing his spectacles up his nose. “How did it feel?”
“Solid.” Wyndham angled his chin up at the paper. “You’ll be able to cast at least once more.” The cabbage leaf had shriveled some, looking wilted and slightly brown around the edges.
“Amazing,” Conrad said, wasting no time.
He repeated his spell and produced a crisp, white handkerchief, likely cleaner than it had been since before the first time it was used.
Conrad let out a short laugh of delight and held it up for all of them to see.
Sage couldn’t help but grin at his excitement.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he said.
Conrad was on his feet in a blink, already handing the handkerchief back to Wyndham. “I believe the mistrust was more on the cabbage than it was on me.”
Sage hoped the way he pushed his fingers back through his hair disguised the way his shoulders shook with a silent laugh. The man’s confidence was endless, even in front of two people as powerful as Wyndham and Roger. It was incredibly endearing.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted the cabbage, then.”
“I am certain it forgives you,” Conrad told him with a wink as he ripped another piece of paper to size.
The warmth from earlier swirled in Sage’s chest again.
He all but forgot about the grin on his lips until he caught Wyndham staring at him with a smirk of his own.
Sage straightened and tried to focus again as Conrad prepared to clean his jacket.
“Were you able to feel the difference in his magic?”
“I was not trying,” Sage told him stubbornly.
Conrad made a sound of interest, though he did not look up from whatever he was busy writing. “So you can sense magic, as well?”
Sage shifted on his seat. “Modestly.” What came so easily to someone like Wyndham required effort on his part.
“Try it this time,” Wyndham said, leaving no room for argument.
“I would be interested to see what you think. A new perspective.” The intensity of what had remained unsaid about Sage’s magic seemed to fade as Wyndham turned his focus back to the research he and Roger had been doing.
The request was simple enough. Sage nodded his agreement.
With a slow exhale, he reached out with his magic as Conrad cast again.
Those lazy, golden tendrils he’d felt in his chest before became a fountain of sunny warmth, filling every empty space within him until he gasped.
Sage had the distinct feeling he’d experienced something similar once before, but that he’d been too distracted to take notice.
The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. It left Sage staggering.
His jacket was better than new—vibrant and soft, entirely free of mud, just as promised. Conrad was the only one looking at it, though. Roger and Wyndham spied Sage expectantly.
“Well?” Roger encouraged, eyes wide. “How did it feel?”
Sage’s mouth had gone dry. “Powerful,” he managed.
“Clearly!” Conrad was still admiring his work on the garment, holding it close to his face. “And that was in one go! I’m almost sorry I already cleaned the rest of your clothes last night, Sage. I wish to do all of them this way.”
Wyndham chuckled. “There is plenty of time for the two of you to find more ways to befoul your clothes.”
Sage considered challenging the notion of them seeking out more opportunities to potentially ruin his wardrobe, but he found he did not have the strength nor the heart to deny Conrad of something that thrilled him so.
Instead, he accepted his jacket when it was handed to him and watched as the spell was performed on his muddy trousers to an equal effect.
Afterwards, Roger spent some time asking Conrad questions and taking detailed notes, each of them kindling the other’s interest in the topic until they began repeating themselves with even bigger smiles.
Wyndham had picked up a book off the side table and was reading with a satisfied grin.
Sage felt terribly out of place, but he did not want to interrupt to tell them he was leaving.
He held his clean clothes against his chest with one arm and wandered the study as he waited, inspecting the shelves and tamping his magic when it swirled each time Conrad laughed behind him.
When it finally sounded like their conversation was coming to an end, Wyndham snapped his book shut and set it aside, standing up off the chaise with that same smug grin.
“Roger,” he began thoughtfully, gaining his husband’s attention.
“I do believe we should continue this experimentation tomorrow. As you said before, it is rare that we’ve had the opportunity to work with new subjects on this raw materials project thus far.
If Conrad and Sage are open to it, I would like to see them cast together. ”
Roger was giddy at the idea.
Conrad and Sage exchanged a look. He had never seen a pair of soft brown eyes filled with such hope before.
This was everything he wanted. It was what Sage had agreed to offer in their arrangement—to show the rest of the Council that Conrad could work closely with fae, and that he was more than capable of handling whatever they asked of him, despite his modest upbringing.
How could he refuse?
Sage relented with a nod, and Conrad closed the distance between them in a single leap, placing his hand on the back of Sage’s neck so that he could pull him down for a chaste kiss on the cheek. Roger and Conrad exited the study together, leaving Sage and Wyndham alone.
He knew exactly what he was doing by asking Sage to use his magic with Conrad’s again.
It was obvious now that he had known from the moment Conrad explained what happened at the lake.
His reaction to Conrad’s cleaning spell only confirmed it.
Was this retribution for what Sage had done to Roger?
Another chance for Wyndham to prove how cold he could be?
Wyndham studied him for a moment and then smoothed a hand down the front of his waistcoat, before he gestured out the open door in the direction Roger and Conrad had gone. His explanation was simple, yet heavy.
“Now do you understand?”