My plan to stick to chronological order has flown out of the window completely. I apologise for the lack of Charley in this chapter, but I promise that we will be seeing his interrogation soon. Also, I have about six chapters planned after this one until the end, but I'm still happy to take suggestions or requests. This takes place in the autumn after RotG.


"You're not helping," said Daine, trying to sound stern and failing miserably. "I can't leave if I can't dress." She had managed to pull on breeches, stockings and boots before Numair had noticed that she planned to leave. Now a shirt hung uselessly in her hand as her lover assaulted the sensitive flesh of her neck with his lips.

Numair broke off nipping her ear gently to murmur, "That's the idea, sweet. Why should the Riders get you all day?" He tugged the shirt from her limp fingers and let it fall to the floor, grinning smugly when he met no protest from Daine. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he began to walk them back to their bedroom.

They hadn't wanted to rush into becoming lovers: Numair had been terrified of pushing her too far before she was ready. What if she thought herself to be in love with him only to realise after they had shared a bed that she wasn't? His nightmare was Daine looking at him with pain or regret. As for Daine, Numair knew that she had been nervous because of the gap in their experience, fearing that she couldn't compare to past lovers. They had finally taken that next step in their relationship a little over a week before, and since then they'd had great difficulty in keeping their hands to themselves. The most innocent touch of Daine's hand in a corridor or at the dining table left Numair's skin burning and his nerves buzzing until the next time they could be alone together. This wouldn't be the first time they had been late for breakfast.

"Mounts!" Daine gasped.

Numair cocked an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"They're choosing their mounts today. Half of them won't have even touched a horse before; they'll need my help."

Sighing, Numair said, "I know you like working with the trainees but I, too, can offer an entertaining morning." He tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder and swooped to kiss her jaw line. "Can the Riders do this?" he purred between kisses, luxuriating in the tiny moan that slipped from her lips.

A giggle bubbled up in her throat. "Well they could do this, but-"

"They would face certain death," he finished in a growl, tightening his grip on her. Daine batted his hands away and turned to face him, soft lips parted in a seductive smile that made Numair's chest tighten and his breath come quickly. He lifted her off her feet so that their faces were level, and Daine wound her arms and legs around him. "Does this mean that you will stay for a while longer?" he asked innocently.

"Yes," she said, scowling at him even as she caressed the nape of his neck. "But there's no need to look like the cat that got the cream." His chuckle was swallowed in a kiss. Her hands were at the fastenings of his shirt, fumbling in her eagerness to get them undone. They had just crossed the threshold of their bedroom, Numair's shirt finally sliding from his shoulders, when there was a hammering at the door.

"You two better not be doing what I think you're doing!" shouted Onua from the corridor. "I'm not starting another day without my assistant!"

Numair growled his frustration while Daine blushed a deep crimson. "Tact has never been one of her strong suits," he sighed. Loosening his grip, he allowed Daine to slip to the floor and dash across the room to scoop up her shirt. While she disappeared into their bedroom to dress, he opened the door to Onua. "Are you sure that was loud enough?" he asked with amused exasperation. "I'm certain that George is smirking at the Swoop."

Onua raised an eyebrow at the sight of Numair's bare chest. "I see my guess was right." Although her voice was stern her eyes twinkled. The K'mir had made a good show of threatening Numair with an agonising death should he hurt her friend, but he knew she was happy that they were together, even if it meant her assistant occasionally arrived at the stables late and rumpled. "Get dressed," she ordered. "By my reckoning you two haven't had a good breakfast in four days," here she grinned wolfishly at Numair's blush. "I'm escorting both of you to the Rider's mess."

Grumbling, Numair stood aside to allow Onua to enter and retreated to the bedroom. He dressed quickly, explaining to an amused Daine that he was under orders to accompany her to breakfast. Hurried along by Onua's frequent reminders that she was in the next room so they could not resume their former activities, they were both dressed and ready to leave within a matter of minutes. They had left their rooms and were almost at the Rider's mess when Daine groaned. "Kitten," she said, and Numair nodded in understanding. To Onua she explained, "Lindhall wants to introduce her to one of his classes, and I promised I'd take her to his rooms before breakfast."

"I supposed you'd better go," said Onua. Daine apologise and hurried away in the opposite direction while Numair and Onua continued to the mess hall. No sooner had they arrived than Numair remembered that he had his own reasons for visiting Lindhall: his former teacher had borrowed a book that Numair needed for a class that afternoon. No doubt Lindhall would give it to Daine to return to him, but if he retrieved it himself then he would have a few extra minutes alone with Daine. Onua reluctantly allowed him to leave, warning him of the dire consequences should he delay Daine.

About to round the corner to their rooms, Numair heard angry voices. " – knew you were nothing but a cheap whore," spat a man whose voice Numair couldn't quite place.

"I don't want to fight with you." Numair froze: that was Daine's voice. Had someone just insulted her or was there a third person in this conversation?

"No wonder you defended him that day in the stables. I was right all along, wasn't I? You've been dropping your breeches for him since you got here, only now you're not trying to hide it."

Suddenly Numair knew the speaker. It was Perin the clerk, one of the young men who had flocked around Daine before Midwinter. He thought back to the vision he had been granted at Midsummer: Perin trying to persuade Daine into his bed and then spouting poison when she refused. He had even hit her. Numair had been furious at the time, but the crisis they had encountered shortly after and the change in his relationship with Daine had driven the clerk from his mind. Now the old anger welled up inside him: how dare this boy try to hurt Daine again?

Propelled by his fury, Numair turned the corner and strode towards the arguing pair. Daine stood with her arms crossed defensively across her chest, barely controlled anger evident in her face. Relief flooded her eyes as she saw Numair, quickly replaced by worry when she noticed his expression. Perin had his back turned to Numair and so did not see the mage approach. "Perin," cautioned Daine. "Please think about what you're saying."

"You think I'm afraid of your mage?" asked Perin incredulously. "I have nothing to fear from a book bound idiot."

Numair cleared his throat.

"What?" Perin demanded, turning to face Numair. His eyes widened as he saw who had disturbed him. "Master Numair, I-"

"'Master Numair'," Numair repeated. He walked slowly, deliberately, towards Perin, who backed away. "That's a lot of respect to pay to a 'book bound idiot'."

"Master Numair, I didn't mean any offence." The last word came out as a gasp as Perin bumped into the wall. He glanced nervously over his shoulder; now there was no escape. Numair stopped scant inches in front of him.

"I take no offence at being called an idiot, I've been called far worse in the past," he said with a smile. Seeing the smile, Perin relaxed. Daine, however, tensed. It was the smile of a cat with a mouse between its paws. "But you shouldn't dismiss books so readily. They can teach you how to boil a man's blood in his veins, or plague him with terrifying visions. Well," Numair spread his hands in a show of false modesty. "They're just the simple spells. I mastered them with barely any study. Now the black robe spells, they're interesting."

"Is that so, Master Numair?" Perin asked, grinning nervously. Numair was gratified to see a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on the clerk's forehead.

"Numair..." Daine said softly, and placed a hand on his upper arm.

Numair looked down at her and, as if seeing her for the first time, said "Daine!" He slid an arm around her shoulders and turned his attention back to Perin. "Have you met Daine?"

Perin glanced between the two mages and Numair could see clearly what he was thinking: was it possible that Numair hadn't heard what he had said? Would he get away unscathed? Slowly, Perin nodded. "We're acquainted."

"I have a very interesting history with Daine," Numair said, his voice light. "She saved my life when we first met. I have been her teacher for several years, although she has taught me more than I ever dreamed possible about her magic. She is a friend to Alanna the Lioness and her husband, as well as their majesties, and has risked her life to save the realm more times than I care to count. She is, quite literally, a goddess and a hero. Not only is she my best friend, but she is also the woman I hope to marry. But," he removed his arm from around Daine's shoulders and leaned so close to Perin that their noses were almost touching, "you seem to have a different view of her."

"Master-"

"What was it that you called her?"

Perin shook his head, mouth slightly ajar as he stared at Numair in open terror.

"You don't remember?" asked Numair. "I do. I believe your exact words were 'cheap wore.'"

"Master Numair I can explain, it was a joke-"

"You think that calling a hero of Tortall, the woman I love, a whore is funny?"

"I-"

"Perin," Daine interrupted, shaking her head. "You'll only make things worse. Shut up."

"Good advice," Numair said. Perin's jaws snapped shut. The next time he spoke, Numair's light, friendly tone had vanished. It was replaced by a voice that would have made even the arrogant former Emperor Mage slightly nervous. "Several weeks ago I fought an enemy mage called Inar Hadensra. Have you heard of him?" Numair already knew the answer – the whole palace had heard of his battle with the Scanran sorcerer. When Perin nodded he continued, "When I finished with him all that was left was an eye. If I ever hear you speak to Daine with anything less than reverence, what I do to you will make Hadensra's fate look merciful. Do I make myself clear?"

Perin nodded wordlessly.

"Good." Numair took a step back. "Now apologise and leave. Quickly."

Without looking at Daine, Perin mumbled an apology and took off down the hall at a run. Numair watched him go, wishing that he could at least have terrified him for a little while longer. "Was that really necessary?" Daine asked.

"Necessary? No. Satisfying? Extremely." He took her hand in his and led her back to their rooms. "I believe in second chances, Magelet. Unfortunately for Perin, he had already had his."

Once they were inside their rooms, Daine placed a hand on his cheek and directed his gaze down to her. "He didn't hurt me, you know. I don't care what he says about me."

"I do. I will not allow people to insult you when I can prevent it."

"But-"

He smothered her protests with a kiss, hoping to wipe the memory of the confrontation from her mind. After a few moments she relaxed into his hold and returned the kiss fervently. This moment of happiness was destined to be brief: the door swung open and an irate Onua shrieked, "I knew this is what you'd be doing! You two are a nightmare!"