Opening the door to his room, Dannyl gestured for Rothen to enter, then followed and closed the door. Inside, it was dark, and though it all looked clean and free of dust there was a smell of neglect in the air. His trunk had been deposited just inside the bedroom.
"So what was so pressing that the High Lord ordered you back to Imardin?" Rothen asked.
Dannyl regarded Rothen closely. "No 'you were right, Dannyl' about Sonea's glorious victory, then?" He teased him.
Rothen didn't reply. Dannyl might have been annoyed, if it hadn't been for how sleep-deprived Rothen looked. Dark shadows hung under his former mentor's eyes. He had seemed anxious at the Arena yesterday, certainly. But Dannyl had put that down to nerves about the outcome of the duel.
"I can tell you some of it," Dannyl said, "but not all. The Administrator asked me to research ancient magic, and Akkarin is interested in following my progress. He… are you all right?"
Rothen had grown very pale. "Was he… offended by your interest?"
"What? No, he wasn't," Dannyl assured him, "He had learned of my research, and he approves of it. In fact, I have his instructions to continue."
Rothen's small smile didn't quite lessen the anxiety in his eyes. Then he looked around the room. "I am keeping you from your unpacking." But he didn't leave. With a sigh, he turned to stare into Dannyl's eyes.
"Can I ask you something in confidence? I don't know if I'm getting paranoid in my age," Rothen said.
Dannyl's gaze grew serious and he creating a sound shield around the room as a polite precaution, even though the door was closed. "Of course."
Rothen paused for a couple of seconds, then looked away towards the window as he spoke. He looked uncomfortable.
"You left for Elyne shortly after the High Lord took over Sonea's guardianship from me, yes?"
"Yes, I think it was a week or so after that," Dannyl replied, sifting through his memories. "I'm sure Sonea would have preferred to stick with you. But if yesterday is anything to go by, she seems to be doing alright for herself." He gave Rothen a small smile, which was not returned.
"Well, on that… I would appreciate what you think, seeing as you've been away from some time. Any changes would appear to you more stark," Rothen said cryptically.
Dannyl raised an eyebrow, willing him to go on. "Changes?"
"What I'm about to say cannot leave this room," Rothen whispered.
"I understand," the Ambassador replied, growing a little nervous now.
"I fear… that Sonea no longer hates Akkarin," the older Alchemist said quietly.
Dannyl stood silent for a beat, then looked at Rothen quizzically. "Is that not… a good thing? If Sonea no longer hates her guardian?"
"He is no guardian," Rothen hissed, then seemed to collect himself. Dannyl watched carefully. Rarely had he seen the calm, kindly man express vehement dislike.
Rothen tried to smoothen his expression and took a deep breath. "I just mean that… no real guardian would have abandoned their novice to bullies. Had he been a decent guardian, things would never even have come to a formal battle."
He lowered his gaze and his voice. "But… that is not what I am concerned about," Rothen continued. "I fear that – I have reason to believe, through my observations, that there may be some… some infatuation towards the High Lord on Sonea's part. And that he may use this to control her."
Dannyl's dark eyebrows rose high on his head and he sat down with a frown on his bed. He considered for a few seconds before replying.
"You may be underestimating just how many novices are infatuated with magicians. Half the boys in my year group hung on Lady Elvera's every word in Advanced Healing, remember her? The High Lord is an attractive, powerful magician who is only in his early thirties." Dannyl paused, then cleared his throat suddenly, feeling his face heat. "Or so I've heard many young women say," he quickly added. "Sonea may have a little crush. So what? She is young: she'll grow out of it."
Rothen frowned. "The Administrator himself has asked me about this. And he is the only one who spends time in their company regularly."
At that, Dannyl's gaze sharpened. "I see. What did Lorlen want to know?"
"If I had taught her Guild laws during Sonea's early days with us, including the one forbidding relations between guardian and novice."
Dannyl's eyebrows remained raised in surprise. "Surely, even if Sonea has a little crush, Lorlen doesn't think it is anything but one-sided?"
"Bu there was something different about Akkarin's demeanour at the Arena yesterday," Rothen whispered, his eyes darting furtively to the door then back. "You know how he is, Dannyl. Always so detached and aloof. It was obvious yesterday that he was… he was invested."
Dannyl frowned. "I was right there with you, remember. I don't recall anything out of the ordinary in his attitude. Besides, you know as well as I do that guardians seek to mould their novices. Leaving a legacy, and all that. Sonea's win is a win for him, too, in front of the whole Guild. Of course he was invested."
Rothen scoffed quietly. "That's precisely the problem! Is he moulding her in his own image? Trying to… to turn her into something she is not?" A criminal like him; a black magician? Rothen thought, without speaking that part out load.
Dannyl's eyebrows raised again at Rothen's impassioned tone. "If he is seeking to shape Sonea in his own image, he'd be doing what any other guardian does. And isn't it a good thing that Akkarin obviously does not care about her origins?"
A glint of doubt entered Rothen's eyes and he said nothing.
Dannyl stood, placing a hand on Rothen's shoulder. "I know it isn't fair. You put in the hard work with Sonea; Akkarin gets to bask in her successes. But it looks like she has gotten used to him. Surely that is better than living in fear of one's guardian?"
At those words, a shadow seemed to cross Rothen's face. He grimaced when Dannyl said 'living in fear'. The young Ambassador guessed this wasn't convincing his friend, so he tried another tack.
"The High Lord has invited me to dine with him and the Administrator before I leave for Elyne in a few days' time. I don't know if Sonea will join us, but if she does, I can let you know how she seems to be doing." Dannyl gave Rothen an encouraging smile.
"You won't – "
"I won't ask anything along these lines, needless to say," Dannyl said quickly.
Rothen paused, then nodded his thanks. "I'd appreciate that."
"Don't mention it," the Ambassador replied with a little forced cheerfulness. He looked thoughtfully at his former mentor's back as Rothen left his room.
He looks much older, Dannyl mused, feeling morose. This is the kind of age that comes on through worry and anxiety, he thought. He resolved to watch both the High Lord and Sonea closely when he went to the Residence later in the week.
—-
Lorlen walked briskly across the grounds, opting to go without a heat shield. He was very nervous about his impromptu visit – or rather, my planned ambush, he thought sardonically.
The cold night wind seemed to slap his face, helping him feel alert. The Administrator didn't know what he was expecting, but he knew that he was tired of weeks of speculation in his mind. Mulling over the shift in their behaviours had Lorlen all but convinced that Akkarin had somehow said or done something that had won his novice over to black magic.
He didn't know what that could mean, exactly. Like all Guild magicians, Lorlen knew little of black magic except that it was strictly forbidden. But he suspected he had made some kind of assistant out of her. For whatever black magicians needed assistance with.
He wavered between feeling like these speculations were very vague and baseless, then feeling his intuition tell him he may be close to the truth. The interactions he observed after Sonea's duel with Regin seemed to confirm it. The way she had chatted to him comfortably – indeed animatedly! – on the way to the Residence when she thought no one was watching. The way the High Lord had listened with a small half-smile, looking indulgent.
Lorlen knocked on the Residence's plain, dark grey door. It swung open silently at his touch. He walked in, expecting to find Akkarin in his usual chair, but the entrance hall was dark and empty.
Strange, he thought. Why would the door open at my touch if he wasn't home? His heart sank. Of course. The ring. Even if I didn't feel his presence through it, that doesn't mean he may not have seen I was heading to the Residence.
Then he noticed a strip of light emanating from one of the doors on this ground floor, beyond the entrance hall. That's where Akkarin's study was, he recalled. Lorlen raised an eyebrow. And that's where he usually hosted Lorlen. If he has been seen me coming via the ring, that's probably where is waiting for me, Lorlen thought.
The Administrator grimaced to himself, thinking Akkarin was probably waiting there in disapproval.
Then Lorlen straightened his shoulders. You've come this far. What can he possibly do just because I showed up unannounced? I used to do this all the time, he thought.
He made his way silently towards the study door, which was almost closed, but not quite.
"Yes, High Lord."
Lorlen froze. He heard Sonea's whisper coming from somewhere inside the study.
This is it! His mind shouted. Maybe he is in there teaching her something to do with black magic.
But something made him hesitate about bursting in. There was a strange quality to Sonea's voice.
Lorlen had heard her address Akkarin in many ways. False neutrality; controlled anger; concealed hatred; stony formality. Lorlen imagined that he probably displayed a similar range of emotions now whenever he spoke to the High Lord.
But this was… yielding. Pliant.
Lorlen felt his face heat. Something clicked in his mind, something he had not dared contemplate as part of his suspicions. But it was now exactly where his thoughts went. Would Akkarin dare?
He moved his line of sight level with the crack of the open study door. Lorlen was stood in the darkness of the foyer, and if he was careful not to move, he could not be spotted by anyone inside the warmly lit room.
The sight that met his eyes through the door's narrow opening almost made him gasp, but he stopped himself just in time.
Sonea was leaning up against the edge of Akkarin's desk. The sash at her waist was loose, and her brown novice's robes had fallen slightly open at the front, revealing one small, pale breast and pink nipple. Lorlen couldn't see Akkarin from his narrow field of vision, but there was no mistaking the black-robed arm and the long fingers resting possessively on Sonea's waist.
Her silky black hair fell like a cascade of ink to her shoulders. Her eyes were downcast, her dark lashes hiding her gaze, and there was some colour on her cheeks. She nodded to something Akkarin murmured, which Lorlen couldn't make out.
Lorlen's breath turned shallow as he watched, transfixed.
The black-robed hand slowly travelled down her waist and disappeared between her brown novices' trousers. The Administrator didn't need to see what was happening to know that the High Lord was caressing his novice through the silk fabric.
Sonea's knuckles grew white gripping the edge of the desk on either side of her hips. Her lips parted in a silent, quick intake of breath.
Lorlen stepped to the side, spun around and rested his back against the wall. His heart was racing and his head spun. His phallus was getting hard behind his robes, but that couldn't be helped; it is involuntary, he reassured himself.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Akkarin had taken on Sonea's guardianship, and completely used this to his advantage. Lorlen felt like, once again, he hardly knew the man almost two decades his friend. First black magic, and now this… illicit closeness. Maybe – worst of all – this was some sort of seduction the High Lord planned to follow up with an induction into black magic! Was there any Guild law that Akkarin wouldn't dare break?
He knew he should sneak right back out of the Residence. It was a miracle Akkarin hadn't already sensed Lorlen's emotional turmoil through the ring. Well, now I know why his mind has been distracted from the ring long enough for me to sneak up on him, the Administrator thought, aghast.
Then why did something compel him to look again?
Silently, he pushed himself away from the wall and brought his eye in line with the small crack of the door again. I must know how far this impropriety has gone, he told himself, rather unconvincingly.
The upper half of Sonea's robe had fallen open further to reveal both of her breasts. Lorlen felt like he had forgotten to breathe.
Akkarin's other black-robed arm came into view as the High Lord snaked it up to the back of her neck. He was somehow both gripping and supporting it, as his other hand continued to rub her through her trousers.
Sonea rested her head back into his hand with a sigh: a movement that seemed to bare her breasts towards the man in front of her. Her eyes closed and the sinews in her pale neck stuck out. Her nipples seemed swollen.
How did they get so? Lorlen thought, then mentally chastised himself. Much of his mind, not to mention his body, was only interested in drinking in the details of the view in front of him. A gasp escaped Sonea's lips.
"Quiet," Lorlen heard Akkarin whisper coldly.
Sonea sealed her lips and breathed heavily through her nose as the High Lord's fingers stroked her.
Lorlen's hand brushed his own hard manhood over his robes. The contact almost pushed him over the edge. He snatched his hand away. This is wrong, so wrong, he told himself. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Sonea's flushed face and her trembling thighs, between which Akkarin's hand worked.
His gaze roamed over the way Sonea's cheeks and her collarbone had grown pink; the way her legs were slightly parted for the High Lord's ministrations. How a thin sheet of sweat was forming on Sonea's chest.
Wrong, so wrong, his mind told him again. She is a novice! But another voice answered in his head. Ah, but she is not just a novice. Look at her. She is a young woman.
Sonea's hips tilted forward of their own accord, pushing herself into the High Lord's hand. Fumbling their grip on the edge of the desk, her palms were obviously slippery with sweat. But she remained utterly silent. Only her brow furrowed and her eyes shut tightly.
Akkarin stepped close to Sonea, entering Lorlen's line of vision. It couldn't have been anyone but him, but finally seeing his former best friend with his own eyes seemed to send a jolt of shock through Lorlen. He clamped his own hand to his mouth to stifle his shaky gasp, but it was too late.
Akkarin's head snapped to the door, the smile fleeing his lips. Lorlen froze. It didn't matter that the High Lord was in a well-lit room and he out in the darkness beyond; those black eyes had unmistakably found him.