31. Sage
SAGE
The sound of bedroom doors closing with varying amounts of enthusiasm echoed through the hall.
Sage sighed in relief when Conrad shut theirs behind them, blocking out the rest of the world until morning.
He was thoroughly exhausted from using his magic so much in one day.
Not only was he physically spent, but his chest felt as though it had been trampled on after experiencing such wild emotions.
As much as he wanted to crawl into bed and fall asleep, he knew he would be thankful in the early hours if he pampered himself with his familiar nighttime routine first.
Sage set the glass he’d brought along down on the vanity and began to undress. There were still a couple sips of wine left and he didn’t want to waste them.
“Another rose and almond night, is it?” Conrad was sitting on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes. Usually he would kick them off with little care where they ended up. Perhaps he was feeling the effects of their day in the study, as well.
“It helps me relax,” Sage explained. There were other far more vain reasons for it too, of course, but he had a feeling they would not matter very much to his companion. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ve come to enjoy it a great deal, actually.” Conrad’s grin bunched to one side, almost sheepishly. “I doubt I’ll ever be able to catch a whiff of the combination again and not think of you.”
Sage hummed softly, turning away to hide the curve of his own lips as he sat on the ottoman to pull his trousers the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his shirt and stockings. He turned back to study Conrad for a moment.
“Why don’t you try it?” he asked.
Conrad’s forehead wrinkled.
“I cannot have you waste your nice things on me.”
“It would be no waste, I assure you.” He stood and gestured to the ottoman. “Come and sit down.” Conrad eyed him warily. “Please? It will make me happy.”
“Oh, all right.” He tucked everything but the trousers he was still wearing into his bag and pushed it under his side of the bed.
The way he flumped onto the low seat told Sage he really needed no assistance in feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep within minutes, either, but the idea of applying the oil on Conrad’s tired, handsome face was suddenly the only thing he wanted to do.
“Wine?” Sage held the glass out for him after taking a sip. They’d shared it during the game of charades as well, passing it back and forth like it was something they’d been doing for years.
“Thank you.” Conrad accepted it and drained the last in one swallow.
“Excuse me,” Sage protested. “I did not mean for you to finish it.”
Conrad chuckled and leaned forward to set the empty glass down. “You already had most of it downstairs. Would you like me to go and ask for more?”
Sage grinned and shook his head as he reached for his jar of oil.
“That’s quite all right,” he said primly.
“The last thing I need is to add a headache to what I’m already sure to feel in the morning after today’s activities.
” With a small amount of the oil in one palm, he set the bottle down and rubbed his hands together a couple of times.
“It might be easier if you close your eyes.”
Conrad did as he was told.
“I am glad it’s not just me,” he confessed as Sage swept his fingers gently across his cheeks, first out and then back together at his nose.
“You seemed eager enough to continue.”
Sage was standing behind Conrad, watching in the reflection of the mirror as his hands moved in delicate strokes, gliding his fingertips up Conrad’s nose and over the creases of his forehead before finishing at his jaw and starting the methodical process all over again.
“Sometimes it is difficult to quit something you enjoy.”
“Indeed,” Sage murmured.
The glow of the candles sitting at the corner of the dressing table did a great kindness to Conrad’s figure, and Sage found that he could not pass up the opportunity to admire him in the soft, golden light.
There was no denying he was attractive. But as he allowed his admiration to wander, Sage realized that those parts of Conrad had become captivating in entirely new ways.
These were the brawny arms that held him at the lake; the ones he slept soundly in each night.
His broad shoulders were where he rested his cheek in the silent hours of the morning when it was just the two of them.
Those rough hands folded together on the vanity were the same ones that had been reaching for his own with increasing frequency over the last several days.
When his eyes dipped lower, Sage forced his attention back to Conrad’s face, which had gone slack under his touch. Even though it was exactly what he’d expected to happen, it still pulled a gentle laugh from him.
“It appears you have found something else to enjoy.”
Conrad let out a long, serene moan.
“I certainly do not want it to end,” he mumbled. “Nothing could possibly feel better than this.”
Sage’s expression softened, despite the way his magic swirled in his chest. Had life treated him so harshly that a splash of oil and a little rubbing could bring him such pleasure?
Sage’s hands slowed as his lips curved into a frown.
He supposed he was equally as easy to please, all things considered.
“I knew you would find it agreeable.”
A short silence stretched between them until Conrad spoke again.
“It seems I am not privy to an entirely different sort of satisfaction, thanks to my inability to feel magic. Before our discussion at dinner this evening, I had no idea I was missing out on so much.”
Sage had to close his eyes against the tone of Conrad’s voice. So rarely did he sound disappointed. It was difficult to hear.
“Everyone’s abilities are different,” he said, trying his best to sound supportive, just as Conrad had done for him in so many of their private conversations.
The party really had done a terrible job of being inclusive of those who were not as magically powerful, though.
All they could talk about was how incredible it was to feel a connection with someone else on such a deep level.
And of course Wyndham and Roger—plus the others when they eventually caught on—made pointed comments about it in Sage’s direction.
It had been obvious that Conrad did not understand, and he couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.
Sage brought his hands up to Conrad’s ears. As he worked small circles into them with the tips of his fingers and thumbs, he marveled at the smooth curve where he expected a point to be. If he was honest, they were rather darling.
If he was entirely honest, the man attached to them was darling, too.
Something squeezed in his chest at the thought.
The trust that had cultivated between them made it so simple for him to talk to Conrad.
Unnerving as it might be, he found that he liked being able to share things with someone so easily.
Even things he would’ve otherwise found difficult to speak of came effortlessly when they were alone.
It was this uncomplicated truth that had words burning on his tongue.
“I am afraid I’ve been less than forthcoming with you,” Sage admitted quietly, still distracting himself with Conrad’s ears. It had relaxed the man so much that his entire upper body was swaying a bit with the circular motions.
“Hmm?” was his drowsy reply.
“The incident at the lake was entirely my fault.”
“Rubbish,” Conrad said, a lazy grin tugging at his mouth. “It was a strong wind, that’s all.”
Sage let his hands rest on Conrad’s shoulders. “And I was the one who caused it to happen.” He watched as Conrad forced his heavy eyes open and they found one another in the mirror. “With my magic.”
Conrad’s confusion was evident. “Why did you do it?”
“I did not mean to,” Sage said with a slight whinge. “I did not even recognize that it was happening until I’d already ruined everything.”
Conrad spun himself on the ottoman to face Sage, hands finding his wrists as he gave them a gentle squeeze.
“It was an accident, then. No harm done. We were able to fix your clothes, and the lantern was not damaged.” His smile returned.
“And it allowed me to show you what a great tool cabbage can be.”
Sage gave a pitiful little laugh, bottom lip poking out.
He was doing a poor job of explaining what he truly wanted to say.
After reclaiming one of his hands, he smoothed it over Conrad’s short hair before he held the side of his face, sliding his thumb over his cheek as he considered his next words carefully.
“Do you recall the discussion at dinner? About magical compatibility?”
Conrad winced. “Hard to forget. Emrys was rather emphatic about it.”
“Yes,” Sage agreed, lip curling before he went on.
“Fae consider magical compatibility to be highly important when it comes to matters of the heart. It signifies a strong connection between the two partners. It is the reason you find Wyndham and Roger’s joint magic so compelling, beyond the fact that they are both apt on their own.
They are highly compatible, as are Emrys and Torquil; Keelan and Silas.
Traditionally, the first demonstration is performed at the end of the wedding ceremony, to prove that the marriage will be a successful one.
However, as you heard earlier, this may very well be the first public demonstration of compatibility, but it is certainly not the first time the couple might have experimented with it. ”
“What does it mean? To be magically compatible.”
The tips of Sage’s ears went warm, and he had to look away from Conrad’s intense focus for a moment before he could answer.
“One cannot explain it until they have experienced it for themself. There are rumors, of course. All young fae like to pretend they understand it to impress their peers.”
Conrad chuckled. “Naturally.”