Page 3 of The Gathering

But Nyssa had to look twice at all the garb Dorian was wearing.

He was not dressed in his usual training clothes, exhausted and bruised and tattered on the sleeves. No, these were new training clothes; a new long sleeve tunic with ties at the low v-neck, flowing but tucked into his slim-fitting brown trousers. A padded black vest with rope tackles hung over him, a high collar hitting his long neck, and his bag, which Nyssa knew contained his pipe, herb, and possibly other up-to-no-good treasures, hung lazily crossways beneath the vest.

And as she realized they were new clothes, she began to smile.

“Did you buy these new clothes to impress Bala or Draven?” she asked, and Dorian frowned at her.

“Neither,” he said fast.

Nyssa grinned. “So Draven, then.”

Dorian didn’t respond and instead allowed his eyes to travel over her own clothes. “And you look radiant as ever, sis,” Dorian teased her, and she knew that was code for his not being impressed by what she was wearing.

Nyssa glared and stomped to her closet again to look for a tunic and pants instead since that seemed more practical considering it was raining outside. She expected him to be sitting in the chair as he usually did, but when she emerged from behind the screen, she found him standing with his arms crossed beside the chair and glaring down at her eagle, who had decided to perch on the cushion.

Her eagle screeched mockingly, and Dorian jumped.

Nyssa laughed as she wrapped her corset belt. “The only creature to ever intimidate the great Dorian Eaglefyre: a golden eagle,” she teased.

“Yourgolden eagle,” he drawled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” He took a wide step around the chair to come stand at her side and took over tying her leather corset. “That thing is just as likely to slash out my eyes for my tying this corset too tight as it is to protect me were something to happen to you.”

She jerked as he jolted the strings, almost falling off balance. “Are you trying to test your theory?”

“No,” he said with a final yank. “Just making sure that when you go to maim me during practice today, you can’t twist.”

Her mouth dropped, and she turned to smack his laughing figure, but he jumped out of the way and onto the mattress before she could. Her eagle screeched, and Dorian flung himself behind one of the bedposts as the eagle’s wings extended.

“You know, maybe we should put you in one of these,” she teased once he hopped down from the bed. “Might help your form.”

“Maybe we should,” he agreed, eyeing her corset. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of this action.”

Nyssa laughed. “You couldn’t handle a corset.”

“Sis, that sounds like a challenge,” he drawled. “You know how I feel about those.”

“I do, which is why tomorrow we should ask Maye to make you one.”

Corbin was waiting for the pair when they emerged from Nyssa’s room. Nyssa smiled at him, knowing perhaps the handsome Second had been following behind Dorian that morning.

“Morning, Corbin,” Nyssa said sweetly.

Corbin gave her a low nod, returning her smile. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

But Dorian pushed himself between them and looked annoyingly at the Belwark. “Good morning…” he murmured the words as though they were a curse. “Right, you smile at her and tell her ‘good morning.’ All I got earlier was a glare of disapproval and a grunt,” though Nyssa could hear a slight tease in Dorian’s tone.

“She’s prettier than you,” Corbin replied.

Nyssa couldn’t stop her burst of laughter, Dorian shoving her in response.

“I didn’t realize your Second liked to joke,” Nyssa teased.

“Really?” Dorian said. “So his jokes were not what got you to bend over for him in the servants' tunnels after the Belwark trials?”

Nyssa tripped over her feet and nearly went crashing into a suit of armor.