Page 48 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong (Lost Arts #2)

Brannal laughed outright. “I’m pretty sure the cook is the innkeeper’s partner, so probably not without breaking up a marriage?”

Perian pouted, and this just made Brannal laugh more.

“We can eat a lot of it while we’re here, and we’ll just have to come back if you like it that much,” he suggested.

This made Perian’s mock pout dissolve .

“Out of curiosity,” he said as he eyed the last bit of pie that was in the dish. “Did you have to promise your first-born children to Cormal? I’m not saying it’s not worth it, but just wondering.”

Brannal laughed again. “Nothing so dramatic as that. He rolled his eyes a lot, but he doesn’t really mind when I leave him in charge.”

Perian eyed the other man, because he could actually see how that would be the case, but was that a good thing?

Brannal’s expression was contemplative. “I know you don’t get on, and he lets his temper get the better of him sometimes.

Perhaps he would like to be Summus if he could.

But he is Secundus, and he’s always supported me.

It’s important he be able to take charge in my stead.

Something like this, a short stay, where he can feel like he’s doing me a favor and I can get a break with you?

I don’t see where there’s any losing side. ”

Well, when he put it that way, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

Brannal nudged the pie plate towards Perian, who happily scooped the last of it onto his plate and devoured it.

“Sooo good,” he repeated, licking at his fork.

Brannal made a sound of agreement, but he was watching Perian’s mouth. And since this was a private parlor... Deliberately this time, Perian reached out with his tongue and carefully licked the tines of his fork.

Brannal let out a soft groan of sound.

“See something you like?” Perian asked.

“Very much.”

“Why don’t you come over here and take it?”

The table proved to be very sturdy, which it occurred to Perian to be grateful for only after Brannal had fucked him over it.

“What would we have done if we broke the table?” he asked.

Brannal snorted. “Asked for another.”

Perian threw him a look.

“Well, we aren’t going to eat on the floor, are we?” Brannal said with calm logic.

“But what about this table?”

“Firewood, probably, unless it could be mended. I suppose it would depend on how spectacularly we broke it.” He leered a little at Perian, making him laugh. “I’d pay to replace it, of course.”

“I don’t want to be those obnoxious guests that innkeepers just wish would leave.”

He didn’t want to be an inconvenience.

Brannal pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. “I don’t think we’re likely to do anything that would warrant so much dislike. And I’m paying to ensure we’re well cared for. You don’t need to worry.”

Perian nodded, reassured. “Because I’m pretty sure my come is all over the carpet, and that’s kind of gross if you’re the one who has to clean it up.”

Brannal laughed. “You want to wipe it up, don’t you?”

“Yes, please!” Perian said with relief.

They mopped it up as best they could with the napkins from dinner.

“Thanks,” Perian said. “I know that’s silly.”

“Making you comfortable is never silly,” Brannal assured him, sounding entirely earnest.

Perian climbed into his lap, and Brannal wrapped his arms around him, and they just sat there for a few minutes, finishing their tea. True to the innkeeper’s words, they weren’t bothered again, though the staff might have wondered what was going on and when they could come and clean the room.

They finished their tea eventually, and they managed to tidy themselves up so they looked presentable enough to head up to their rooms.

“Do you care?” Brannal asked, bemused.

Perian shot him a look. “What if there are children in the inn? We don’t need to scar any children, Brannal, really!”

Brannal laughed.

They headed up to their room, where Perian discovered Brannal was an even better planner and surprise-giver than Perian had given him credit for, because the bedroom was full of their clothes .

He whirled to the other man.

Brannal grinned at him. “I had a few things sent ahead. I mean, I’m imagining we’re going to spend a lot of time in this bed, but I thought it might be nice to have clean clothes to change into rather than insisting they launder everything repeatedly.”

Perian launched himself at Brannal, who caught him, laughing, and kissed him thoroughly. Then he said, “Shall we ask for a bath, get cleaned up? ”

Perian nodded, so Brannal went and summoned bath water. A tray of tea, alcohol, and biscuits came up with the compliments of the innkeeper and an assurance that the bath would be ready soon.

“Ooh, speaking of baths, I wondered if you could heat the water.”

Brannal tsked. “A fireball in water has a predictable result.”

Perian pouted. “Molun said there would be steam.”

Brannal nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“You can’t, I don’t know, smoosh the two elements together? Since you can control water and fire?”

Brannal’s eyebrows raised. “ Smoosh them?”

Perian offered him an innocent look. “Isn’t that the technical term?”

Brannal laughed. “That is definitely not the technical term. The elements are entirely separate, or at least water and fire are. There might be some water content in earth, but water and fire do not combine. I’ve summoned both at once, but they’re entirely distinct.

Well, they combine as a shield, but that doesn’t help with bathing. ”

Perian shook his head. “No, I don’t imagine so.”

Looking like he was really considering it now, Brannal conceded, “I suppose if you had a bathtub that conducted heat, I could put water in it and then fire under it, and that would heat the water.”

Perian grinned at the image. “So… now we’re climbing into a very large cookpot?”

Brannal snorted with laughter. “We are, rather.”

“But as long as you put the fire out before we actually climbed in, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work!” Perian said triumphantly.

“Not terribly practical, though,” Brannal pointed out, “given that there would be a very small market who would actually be able to use it.”

“Everyone else could light a fire the traditional way.”

“What, with a whole raft of wood underneath? That really would be a cookpot, and they’d be lucky not to set the floor on fire.”

A giggle escaped. “Yes, that’s a disaster waiting to happen, isn’t it?”

He’d begun to learn more since he’d been at the castle, but he could obviously not match the Mage Warriors for years of training and hands-on knowledge. But Brannal didn’t make him feel stupid or ignorant, just answered his questions—and shared in the joke, as appropriate .

Perian did still like the image of a ridiculously large cookpot-style bathtub, put up on some sort of fire-resistant surface.

They didn’t need one at the castle, but Perian could have one built at his estate, couldn’t he?

Maybe Brannal could even visit. They were managing this outing, weren’t they?

It made things feel possible that had once been out of reach, and Perian was very excited about that.

“The bath’s ready.”

Brannal’s words and a gentle touch on his arm interrupted Perian’s musings, and he realized he’d gotten entirely lost in his own thoughts. He grinned.

“Time to get clean! Or perhaps a little bit dirty, what do you think?”

This made Brannal smile back, the concern leaving his eyes, and they were soon stripping and climbing into the gently steaming tub.