Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,29

to think you keep her under lock and key and other silly—”

He rounded on his friend, his face serious. “Don’t even suggest such a thing! Rumors are bad enough, but I don’t expect you to be repeating them.”

Rob blanched for a moment, then his cheeks flushed as his temper rose. “I have ears, Will. I’m not spreading rumors. I’m trying to help you keep them from getting worse. I’d have thought you would understand me better by now, but then again, it isn’t as if I ever see you. You still haven’t invited me over to see your new home.”

Will felt bad for snapping. He tried to apologize. “I didn’t mean it like that, and it isn’t you. I haven’t invited anyone over—”

“And that isn’t normal,” interrupted Rob. “For some people perhaps, maybe even for you, but not for political figures.”

“It’s complicated,” began Will.

“But you won’t explain. You won’t talk to me; you won’t talk to Janice. Who do you talk to? Do you have any real friends? I’m starting to wonder, since I don’t really feel like I’m one.” Rob turned his back and began walking away.

Damn, I really pissed him off. He watched Rob go, wondering if he should chase after him or leave him alone. I should probably go after him, but what would I say? Rob’s complaints were completely valid. Ever since the wedding he had kept his friends, along with everyone else, at arm’s length. Even worse, he still hadn’t been home to see his family. He had sent a letter, which hopefully had outpaced the news, but he hadn’t faced his mother in person yet.

There would be a reckoning for that. Although it was several weeks’ travel via traditional means, his mother already knew he could make the journey safely in less than a day. He could get there in a matter of just hours if he was willing to take some of the more dangerous shortcuts through Faerie.

But he couldn’t do it. It’s bad enough that we eloped without warning her, but I can’t show up alone, he told himself silently. He kept walking, his feet following the path home by force of long habit while his head was filled with morose thoughts.

Blake met him at the door, taking his coat. The man waited afterward, expecting Will to remove his overtunic so he could get out of the brigandine as he usually did. “I’m keeping it on,” said Will. “I’ll be going to watch the Nerrow house after, um, after Selene gets back.” Once again, he stumbled over his words. Keeping up a long-term lie was beginning to tax his reserves.

“Then you’ve recovered your magic?” asked Blake.

Will still hadn’t tested it yet, but he cast a simple spell and conjured a small sphere of visible light, then smiled. His head hadn’t given him even a faint twinge. “It appears so.” Feeling good about the return of his magic, he headed for the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how long he would be out that night, so if he wanted something good to eat, he needed to prepare supper before Tailtiu returned.

Blake accompanied him and graciously accepted Will’s instruction as he coached the older man through the simple process of putting together pottage of peas and ham. It was dark by the time they finished, and Tailtiu still hadn’t returned.

“Should we eat without her?” asked Will.

“That’s entirely up to you, sir.”

He was hungry, so they ate. Unspoken was the fact that if Blake actually believed that the woman returning was Selene, he would almost certainly have had something to say on the matter. I know he knows, but I can’t say it because then he’d have to tell the king. My life is so weird, thought Will.

Stomachs full, the two men leaned back in their chairs. After a few minutes, Will sighed and got to his feet. He’d waited long enough. Something had happened, otherwise Tailtiu would have returned by then. Blake rose to stand as well, his intention clear.

“You can’t come with me, Blake.”

“If you meet that assassin you might not be able to handle him on your own.”

“I’ve got my magic back,” countered