Chapter Twenty-One #2
In the years since Valerian left, Maksim had grown to tower over him. His jacket could barely contain his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms. One of his hands almost encircled Valerian’s bicep. The grip was firm enough to hold him in place without being painful—yet.
I should have waited a few years before slowing my aging. Valerian was stuck in a thin, adolescent body, better suited for studying than brawling. Staring down his tormentor would have been much easier if they could see eye to eye.
Straightening his shoulders, Valerian did his best to keep his voice steady as he said, “I’ve already explained to Lorde Endre and Medic Chesna that I’m not the right mage for the job. I’m neither a healer nor a curse-breaker, and even if I was, I’m only halfway through my training.”
Maksim watched him for a moment, his expression difficult to read.
Usually, when they were alone, the civilized mask of the noble son fell away to reveal the monster beneath.
Either he’d gotten better at hiding it, or the monster had been cut away until only the nobleman remained.
After a long moment passed, he finally said, “I know.”
He released Valerian, instead wrapping one arm around his shoulders. “Come, have a drink with me. Tell me about your studies.”
The calm, mature reaction startled Valerian. Maybe he really has outgrown the monster. Whether he had or not, Valerian had no interest in socializing with him. “I’m afraid I can’t stay long. Master Imus is expecting me back—”
“We pay him a rather generous salary for your education. He can wait a few more hours.” Maksim knew well that Valerian could only study magic because of his father’s ‘generosity.’ The subtle threat implied that their generosity could stop at any time.
Valerian took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Smiling, he said, “Of course I’d be happy to report my progress.”
Maksim kept his arm around Valerian as they walked down the hall, a warning that he shouldn’t try to run away. To Valerian’s surprise, they walked straight to Lord Endre’s study. Maksim had clearly made himself at home in his father’s office.
Does he want his father to be cured? Or is he happy to inherit early?
Maksim gently pushed Valerian into the visitor’s chair, holding him down for a second as a silent order to stay put. Then he moved to a small cabinet along one wall, crouching to open the door. “What do you prefer? Wine? Brandy? Whiskey?”
“Water.”
Maksim glanced up and arched a brow at Valerian. “Does alcohol interfere with magic?”
If I say yes, he’ll push it on me, either to see how much it takes for me to lose control, or to ensure I can’t cast any spells against him. If I say no … he’ll tell me I have no excuse and push it on me anyway. “I’m not fond of the taste.”
“It takes some getting used to,” Maksim conceded. “And I suppose most taverns won’t serve you if you still look twelve.”
Oh please, I look at least sixteen. “Exactly.”
“Then let me help you practice.” Maksim pulled a bottle and two glasses out of the cabinet.
He poured a generous portion in one and a much smaller portion in the other.
Pushing the second toward Valerian, he took the first for himself and thumped heavily into Lord Endre’s chair.
He raised his glass in a half-hearted cheer, then gulped down half the contents in one go.
At least I know it isn’t poisoned. Valerian sipped the amber liquid. Heat and spice filled his mouth, numbing his tongue and throat on the way down. He coughed softly, trying to suppress the feeling so he wouldn’t embarrass himself.
Maksim watched him carefully. “You really must not drink,” he murmured. “I thought perhaps you just didn’t trust me.”
I don’t. Valerian shrugged and set his glass carefully on the desk. “So, you wanted to hear about my studies. Anything particular you want to know?”
“How long until you’re useful?”
Now that I know what he wants, we can negotiate. “A few more years at least.”
Maksim sipped his whiskey, eyes locked on Valerian.
The shadow of his father lingered in his shrewd gaze, reminding Valerian of the last time he’d sat in this office, bargaining for his future.
His freedom. “What have you learned in the past decade if you still need years of study? Aside from stunting your growth.”
“Mostly how to control the outcome of certain spells.” Maksim had shown an interest in magic since they were children. I need to convince him that the investment is worth giving me more time. With the lord dying down the hall, it would be a harder sell.
“Take this glass for instance.” Valerian picked it up and sloshed the liquid around.
“Let’s say it breaks, and I want to fix it.
I have to decide my goal first—is it to undo the mess, to repair the glass exactly as it was, or to shape it into something new?
Then I have to determine what ingredients I need to accomplish my goal.
The spell itself is a focusing tool, to stop my mind from wandering and to ensure I get the same results every time. ”
“Interesting,” Maksim dragged out the word. “How does that help the estate? If I break a glass, I can simply buy another, for a lot less money than your studies have cost.”