Page 7

“Generalus is my son’s favourite thing about coming here. But he doesn’t come often; it’s safer for him to stay with his mother.”

“Are you in residence long? You must miss him,” I say softly.

Quin’s hand stills mid-pat, his gaze flickering somewhere far away. “He’s safer with his mother.”

The wistfulness in his voice tugs at me, unspoken emotions layered beneath the words. I swallow against the sudden tightness in my throat.

“You keep him safe,” I offer, unsure what else to say.

He doesn’t reply, but for a moment, his guarded expression slips, and I glimpse the weight he carries—along with the pain.

I drag Quin to the fountain, make him sit, and break a pearl heart leaf. Quin barely twitches when I drop to my knees and shimmy his boot down.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

“In case you also get punished.” I chew the juice out of the citrusy leaf and call its essence to my fingertips. I stroke a finger down the sole of his foot and settle it at the acupoint leading to his blocked nerves. “This will protect your leg from any serious harm, and help lessen acute pain.”

“You clearly desire me to take the blame.”

I slip his boot back on. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and get away with it.”

“Wishful thinking.”

“I don’t see any redcloaks around.”

“I have a feeling retribution will come when you least expect it.” He tucks a finger under my chin and lifts it. “Isn’t it also a crime for a green-sashed mage to treat someone of my status?”

I stiffen. He’s right... only, we’ve done this before... it feels like second nature...

He pinches my chin, his voice softening. “You won’t get in trouble forthis.”

I blow out a breath. “You almost had me.”

“Almost?”

“We’ve been joking around, taking things lightly, but—” I meet his eye “—I remember how hard you tried to stop me coming here. You don’t mean me harm.”

His fingers slide off my chin and he looks away.

The air feels tight as I breathe it in. I clear my throat and push to my feet. “You’re close to Nicostratus. Have you seen him today? What’s he doing?”

Quin plants his cane down heavily and rises. “Probably dreaming of you.”

“Really?”

He frowns at my smugly grinning face. “He’s stuck in cavalry training from dawn to dusk, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Hope is the last to go.” I glance towards the house, half warmly lit. “Dusk came and went ages ago—”

“No.”

“I haven’t finished yet.”

“I can read your thoughts.”

“Is it such an imposition for you to get him for me?”

“Yes.”