Page 53 of The Lost Art of Revealing Hidden Truths (The Lost Arts #3)

Because they were the heirs to the throne, and they shouldn’t be consorting with a demon.

What influence might people believe he wielded?

What tricks would they presume he was playing, just the way that Cormal had, eternally convinced that Brannal couldn’t actually care for him, that it had all been Perian’s wiles .

Perian was pretty sure he didn’t have wiles, but what did he know? He hadn’t even known that he was a carnalion. What if he could influence people? What if his desire for the other man had been so great that he had convinced him to want Perian back?

It might explain why they were separated now, why Brannal hadn’t come to support him through this.

Hadn’t even wanted to come say goodbye.

He swallowed, and in a small voice, he said, “I’d like to say goodbye to them.”

“We believe that the connection should be severed decisively,” the Queen told him.

Perian eyed Cormal’s resolute face. It had probably been his idea.

“They won’t understand,” Perian said carefully.

“They will be told that you wished to leave due to your failure to return Prince Kinan to his full form.”

Said with such graveness and disapproval, like Perian had failed to do something that was easy and obvious, as though he hadn’t managed to do something that no one else could even attempt.

He sucked in a breath.

The Queen continued. “They will be extremely busy, and we’re confident that within a short period of time, they will forget about this unfortunate connection.”

They were going to lie to Renny, Perian realized. They were going to do everything in their power to make her think that Perian wanted to leave, that he hadn’t cared to say goodbye to her.

They didn’t know her very well. She wasn’t going to believe them.

Briefly, he thought about trying to explain that they were actually making this worse, but he could already see that it was useless.

Their expressions were implacable, their belief absolute that if only they could get rid of Perian, things would go back to the way they had been—with the added bonus of everything that he’d fixed for them before they banished him.

Well. It didn’t seem he had any other choice.

“May I say goodbye to the others?” he asked.

“They are Mage Warriors and Warriors sworn to protect the royal family and destroy every demon they encounter,” Cormal hissed, like Perian was being deliberately obtuse.

“We have already had to compromise due to the extraordinary circumstance of the Prince and Princess’s wellbeing.

They will all be informed of your departure. ”

Perian swallowed and nodded. Maybe it was just as well. He could still remember Brannal’s stony face if he closed his eyes. What if everyone else reacted the same way? What if they didn’t know what to make of him or couldn’t forgive him for what he seemed to have done?

He didn’t want anyone else to look at him the way Cormal and the Queen did.

“Very well,” he said, because he knew they viewed this as extreme leniency, but he didn’t think he could bear to thank them.

They’d made their decision before he entered the room, and no one had come to support him or gainsay them.

It was finished.

It was remarkably quick, after that. Perian wasn’t sure if it honestly didn’t occur to Cormal that Perian had belongings or if he didn’t think that a carnalion deserved belongings or if his patience had just worn out.

Perian was immediately escorted not just out of the castle but all the way to the city stables so that he could borrow a horse and leave the city now . Today. Immediately.

Perian thought about protesting, but why did it matter? No one had come to see him. No one had protested.

His belongings were just things, and they were about to represent the most painful time in Perian’s life. If he’d been allowed to pack a trunk, he would have done it, but what would he have put in there? The robe that Brannal had given him? The book? The carving that Chamis had made?

So many memories, and they felt like they were full of spikes and sharp claws right now. Maybe the Queen and Cormal were right, in the instance. Maybe it was better after all that they made a clean break.

But he couldn’t help but wish that he’d had the chance to see Renny one more time, that he could actually see Kee for himself when he wasn’t about to collapse from the strain.

Might he have been able to do more if he’d tried again?

He couldn’t have gone longer, but if he’d replenished, could he have tried again?

He supposed he’d never know .

Cormal had hurried him out of there, but Brannal was Summus.

He was in charge of all the Mage Warriors.

If he’d wanted to see Perian before he was gone, he could have done so.

That he’d chosen to leave or allowed himself to be ordered away only confirmed what Perian had suspected since he’d woken up in that cell.

Brannal was Summus. Of course, being Summus came first. Perian had known that since practically the first moment that he’d encountered the man. He should never have expected differently. He didn’t expect differently, not really…

His heart totally expected differently, who was he trying to kid? But his heart was wrong. Brannal had picked being Summus, and Perian had to let him go.

But could he maybe remember the affectionate Brannal instead? The one who had cuddled him and made him feel good and made sure he was fed and… but no, no, that was to help Molun, wasn’t it?

Before that, then? Could he remember their weekend away, maybe?

What was that, if not affection for Perian?

If Brannal had been worried that Perian might suck him dry, that had been a particularly stupid thing to do, hadn’t it?

Yes, Perian would go back to those days, and he would remember that Brannal.

Perian realized he was clutching the pendant Brannal had given him, the one item he’d got to bring with him because he’d been wearing it.

There hadn’t been anyone to rescue him today, and Perian had to stop expecting that there ever would be.

He went home.