32. Conrad
CONRAD
Conrad made quick work of getting them both cleaned up with one of the hand towels by the wash basin.
He wanted to spend some time thinking about everything Sage had said before, and then some time thinking about what it meant in terms of how their magic had interacted, and then some more time after that thinking about how glorious it had been to watch Sage take pleasure for himself for once.
But for the moment, he put all of his focus on taking care of the man beside him. The rest could wait.
After they were both cleaned and the cloth had been discarded, Conrad returned to his side of the bed and pulled Sage close.
Sage nestled against him as easily as ever, tangling their legs together, pressing his lips to Conrad’s neck, and draping his arm over Conrad’s chest. Conrad slid an arm around the other man’s shoulders and kissed his hair.
They were silent for a few moments.
Then Conrad rubbed Sage’s shoulder a little and said, “I wonder if this will change how our magic works together—now that I understand it better.”
Sage shifted a little. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, now that it would be intentional, and now that I have a better idea of what to look for.”
“I’m not sure,” Sage said at last. “I have rather limited experience with this sort of thing.”
Conrad chuckled. “To be sure. Perhaps we could ask about it the next time we cast.”
“Perhaps.” Sage sounded dubious.
“Or we can keep it to ourselves,” he amended.
Sage sighed. “Wyndham already knows. He’s known since you described the wind at the lake. And if he does, then Roger probably does, too.”
“Oh.” Conrad considered this for a moment. “Does it bother you, having Wyndham know?”
“It bothered me when I was still coming to terms with it, I think. But in regards to how I used to feel about him…no, it doesn’t.”
Conrad let out a relieved breath. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Are you always this chatty after a shag?” There was a smile in his voice as he asked.
Conrad grinned. “Sorry. Am I ruining the mood?”
Sage let out a sharp laugh. “No. I like it. But I’m not accustomed to it.” As if to prove the point, he nestled a little closer. “It sounds as though you expect us to do more magic together tomorrow.”
“If not tomorrow, then another day before we leave.” Sage hummed against him in response. “And of course,” Conrad continued, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked us to continue the experiment when we return to London.”
“I’d like that,” Sage said quietly.
Conrad felt relief and joy fill his chest at Sage’s words. A silent answer to an unspoken question between them: they would continue to see each other in London. He curled a finger under Sage’s chin and tilted his face so he could kiss him. “Me too.”
Sage’s answering smile was soft.
They continued to talk idly about what they could expect from the rest of their stay in the country: what other riddles Harriet might have up her sleeve, what other spells Roger might want to see them try together, what other activities their hosts might come up with.
As their words grew softer, a little more slurred with drowsiness, and punctuated with yawns, they gave in to the inevitable and fell asleep, holding each other with more intention than they had in their previous nights together.
* * *
The following morning, Conrad woke with Sage practically on top of him, and he smiled at how their friendship had grown and evolved in a matter of weeks.
There was a feeling of contentment that he had never expected with another person.
He liked the way they fit together, the way they never ran out of things to talk about, and how they kept finding new ways to take care of each other.
But underneath the contentment was a niggling worry that Conrad did not anticipate.
He had formed a vague sort of plan about what he would do when he got to London, but he couldn’t figure out how Sage might fit into it.
He knew how to take care of himself, but he also knew that working at the docks would not provide him enough to take care of another person.
He knew little about what the Council might pay if he got the position, but he also knew that everyone on the Council, other than Silas, had sufficient money from inherited wealth.
Silas was the closest to him in terms of finances and class, but even his family owned a modest amount of land and a thriving business.
Conrad had no idea if he would ever earn enough to support Sage.
And Sage, with his gorgeous clothes, high quality oils, and a lifetime of having servants and grand houses, would need more support than he could ever hope to obtain.
Did Sage expect anything from him, in terms of their previous night’s conversation?
He remembered the talk about magical compatibility and wedding spells.
Was magical compatibility a precursor to matrimony?
He certainly didn’t mind it if it was. He could think of nothing better than to have a friend like Sage at his side for the rest of his life.
He remembered how Sage had called him Con right before he came.
He felt sure they could build a life on that—the trust, the tenderness, the friendship, and the affection between them, as new as it all was.
But what happened when a pair was compatible magically but not…financially? It was yet another distinction between himself and his new friends. He was sure none of them had ever had to worry about such things, so he couldn’t very well ask for advice on the matter.
Sage stirred beside him and he set aside his concerns for a later date. If nothing else, he could take advantage of the time they had together. The future would come whether he worried about it or not; he might as well enjoy the time he had left.
Sage stretched and then looked up at him and Conrad wasted no time in kissing him good morning. The kiss was languid and sleepy and utterly perfect. Sage rested his cheek on his shoulder and smiled drowsily.
“You smell like roses and almonds now. I like it.”
“Mm. If that’s enough incentive for you to spoil me with a massage before bed each night, I won’t complain.”
Sage chuckled. “Ridiculous man. You know you need only ask.” He yawned. “Are you going down to breakfast?”
“Yes. I’d like to find out what the plan is for the day. Would you like to come with me?”
Sage grumbled a little and tucked in closer. “I’d like to stay in this warm bed with you all day, but I have a feeling I’ll be outvoted.”
Conrad laughed. “I don’t think you’re in danger of being outvoted when there’s only two of us.”
“But when Roger and Wyndham and Torquil and Keelan and Emrys all clamor at the door for you to go and rejoin the living, I shall certainly be outvoted.”
“They’ll be clamoring for you to join them too, you know. Harriet was most put out that you were disappearing into the study with us.”
Sage wrinkled his nose. “It was very strange. I’ve barely spoken three words to her.”
“Your friends like you,” Conrad said as gently as he could.
Sage grunted. “It’s taking some getting used to.”
Conrad pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I know. Shall we put that into practice now with breakfast?”
Sage groaned, but got out of bed. They took their time getting dressed.
Each item that was donned, it seemed, was punctuated with another kiss or a cheek caress, fingers gently tucking hair behind ears.
Conrad felt as though they were both reluctant to break the spell of togetherness when they left the room.
But he had never been one to daydream his problems away.
If they joined the rest of the group, they could talk with more people, or practice more spells, which would increase the likelihood of Conrad getting the position, which would then increase the possibility of seeing Sage in the future.
And perhaps then he’d find a way to keep Sage in his life more fully.
This time, Sage’s entrance in the breakfast room caused little clamor.
It seemed as though his presence was now anticipated.
They filled their plates and sat together, and Conrad was immediately pulled into a conversation between Roger and Torquil.
When he noticed Keelan and Silas chatting amiably with Sage, Conrad relaxed, pleased and proud.
He had not been wrong in guessing that Roger wished to see more magic from the two of them. But he was relieved that the man wanted to go over the notes he had compiled before continuing.
“I’ll admit this is only the second time we’ve had a full-blooded human work with a fae,” he explained as they all sat together in the study.
“And I’m guessing I’m the first person who hasn’t been able to feel magic,” Conrad said.
Roger winced. “Yes. I wish we could do something about that. Although if it makes you feel better, I barely feel magic. It’s more of a something just out of reach. And I certainly can’t control it like Wyn or Sage.”
It didn’t really help, but Conrad appreciated the attempt.
“However,” Wyndham said from his seat on the chaise, “I suspect that most humans we work with will not be able to feel magic either. So your participation is exceedingly valuable.”
“Exactly,” Roger said. “Perhaps before we continue, we ought to pause and go over any questions you might have. Anything we need to explain better?”
“Perhaps you could give a better explanation of magical compatibility,” Sage said.
They all turned to look at him. “I did my best, but I’m not sure my explanation was sufficient.
And the conversation at dinner last night was full of the expectation that everyone present knew the subject matter intimately. ”
“We did get a bit carried away,” Roger admitted. “That’s a good suggestion, Sage. Thank you. Wyn, would you mind?”
Wyndham got up from the chaise and perched on the edge of the desk. “Tell me what you know so far.”
“I know that the wedding ceremony is when the compatibility is first publicly demonstrated, but that a couple will likely have experimented in private beforehand. I know that it is the reason your magic together is so remarkable.” He glanced at Sage for permission.
He gave a nod and a small smile. “And I know it’s the reason Sage inadvertently kicked up a wind when we were in the lake together.
And it’s the reason my magic is so much stronger when we cast together. ”
Wyndham smirked. “That’s a good start. Let’s take a step back for a moment.
People often bandy about the expression of magical compatibility to mean something particular.
But, in point of fact, everyone has a level of compatibility or incompatibility with every other person.
This past spring, we invited a group of fae-humans to London to help develop our third rubric.
And compatibility between them and our fae volunteers was a major component of the project.
Silas’ magic was incompatible with practically everybody.
His magic was constrained, sometimes painful, and sometimes explosive in a negative way with others.
When he and I cast together, it was better.
His magic was sufficiently powerful. But when he cast with Keelan… it filled the entire room.”
“I see,” Conrad said slowly. “And that’s the case with two humans casting together as well, is it?”
Wyndham nodded. “Although since most humans cannot sense magic, they probably don’t know how their magic is interacting with each other.”
“Not to mention most humans cast spells together differently,” Conrad said.
“Something for us to explore further, I imagine,” Wyndham said with a smile over his shoulder at his husband.
“Oh, trust me, I’ve already been thinking about it,” Roger said, laughing.
“So, to get back to the main point, you and I have some amount of magical compatibility. We’ve cast together several times. Your magic gets along with mine well enough.”
“But not as intensely as when Sage and I cast together,” Conrad guessed.
“Definitely not,” Wyndham said. He glanced between them. “I’m not going to pretend I understand your relationship or know of your plans. But I would recommend that, if nothing else, you two might form a partnership for casting together. Your magics are impressively complementary.”
“I’d like that,” Conrad said, smiling up at Sage. Sage didn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded his agreement.
“Does that clear things up a little?” Wyndham asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. Now that you’re both aware of the situation, I imagine our experiments will be even more interesting.”
He wasn’t wrong. Their work began to turn into a combination of experimentation and lessons, as Wyndham taught Sage how to blend their magics together more seamlessly, and how to communicate what changes Conrad needed to do to the spells.
In turn, Roger sat next to him and gave him advice on how to observe his fae companion, what to look for when he was reaching for magic or when he was struggling to control it.
Although Conrad couldn’t feel magic, he could tell when he and Sage began to take their instructions to heart.
His spells seemed smoother, while still powerful.
Sage seemed less tense as he carried out Wyndham’s directions.
They spent hours churning out spell after spell.
It was exhausting, but Conrad couldn’t deny it was also thrilling.
To see Sage sensing a part of him that he could not, joining their magics together with progressively more ease, felt like a language Conrad hadn’t known existed.
They didn’t stop until dinner was called.
“Goodness,” Roger said, organizing his pages of notes. “We really worked you two hard today.”
“We’ll have a good start for when we return to London,” Wyndham said, looking over Roger’s shoulder.
“My father is already pleased to know that you work well with everyone. He’ll be delighted when I tell him that you’re diligent when it comes to projects, as well.”
Conrad froze. “You’ve told him about me?”
Roger laughed. “Of course! I wrote to him shortly after you arrived and I’ve been sending him reports ever since. If you ask me, he already likes you.”
Conrad couldn’t stop the grin that took over. “That’s wonderful.”
Sage chuckled beside him. “You were worried about it, weren’t you?”
“I don’t like to take anything for granted.”
Sage leaned down and kissed him. Then he seemed to remember they had an audience for he pulled away and cleared his throat. “I’m quite sure everyone else here has known for weeks that you had the position secured.”
Wyndham laughed as he brushed past him. “He’s right. But I’m not sure why you’re embarrassed, Sage. We also all know that you two have been in each other’s pockets for a while now.” He opened the door and turned back to look at them with a smirk. “The wind on the dock confirmed it.”