Page 28 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong

Perian woke to something that was, in fact,nota sword pressed hard against his ass. He snorted to himself.

His pillow shifted, and the man who was pressed snug against him said, “Something funny?”

“Yesterday, it was Nisal’s sword. I mean literally, their sword. They were drunk and fell into bed fully clothed, and I didn’t try to take anything off.”

Molunshook with laughter, and Arvus shifted back a little so he wasn’t pressed so insistently against Perian.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “You’re very warm and appealing.”

“I’m not about to blame anyone for morning wood. It happens to all of us.”

Molun rocked a little bit, causing Perian to hiss in a breath.

“I noticed,” the other man said, a little bit smugly.

Yes, so Perian was aroused too, and it was currently trying to drill its way into Molun’s thigh.

He sounded a little breathless as he repeated, “Like I said, happens to all of us.”

“There’s an easy fix for that,” Molun said teasingly.

“Molun!”

Perian had never heard Arvus raise his voice before. It wasn’t a lot louder than normal, but it was definitely sterner. Molun winced and then looked embarrassed and apologetic.

“Sorry,” he said, looking right at Perian. “We said it was up to you to change your mind, and we didn’t mean with dirty tricks. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Perian said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “I know you didn’t mean any harm by it, but Idovery much appreciate that the two of you are willing to do this. This was a better night’s sleep than I’ve had since Brannal left. Don’t tell Nisal. Though that might have been the drunken snoring.”

Molun laughed, relaxing again, and a few moments later, they were able to climb out of bed, and no one made further comment about anyone’s erections.

“Thank you again,” he reiterated. “I’m going to go get ready for my day. More knives in my future—I mean the ones that can actually kill you.”

Molun laughed, Arvus rolled his eyes, and Perian felt curiously buoyed. It had been nice to be wrapped up in their arms, but he still wasn’t sure about more. The desire was there… but it wasn’t quite right? Then he imagined Brannal watching, and that seemed super appealing. So… Brannal was a key component of all of his fantasies?

As he cleaned himself up, he thought about that unsettled feeling he’d identified while he was riding Prince Horsey. It was still there, still simmering around the edges. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick, as that wouldn’t improve Brannal’s absence.

He’d rarely gotten sick growing up, his father saying he was the sturdiest child. But when he’d been fifteen or sixteen, he’d slept a great deal, feeling tired all the time, drained and disconnected.

But as with so much, his father had faced this brightly. He’d said it was a normal thing for moody adolescents to go through, and it took lots of energy to grow. Perian smiled to himself. His father had brought him to the city for his first visit, and that had indeed seemed to shake off the tiredness. Was Perian going through another adolescence? He felt like he’d just barely got through the first one. That would certainly be embarrassing.

Chapter Six

He headed for the Warriors’ training yard in the quadrangle, hoping he could at least learn a few useful skills, whether or not he was also learning how to be an adult for the second time.

It seemed like something from the lessons was sticking today, because Perian actually improved enough that Onadal didn’t just give him a knife, he let him go through actual exercises of striking and blocking with one of the novices. It was carefully choreographed for practice, but Perian began to feel he really might be able to learn this.

He wasn’t afterwards sure whether he’d seemed too proud of himself or if the Warrior was just looking for an excuse, but when Onadal was on the other side of the quadrangle working with another novice, one of Perian’s hecklers came right over to him. Perian still didn’t know all their names. This was the one with dark blond hair and green eyes. Not as nice a green as Cormal, but Perian wondered if he was supposed to be wary of green-eyed people or something. The sneer on the man’s face was ugly.

“You think you’re good at that? Let’s see what you’re like up against someone who actually knows what they’re doing!”

Perian wasn’t given the opportunity to explain he already knew he had no chance against a trained Warrior, he just tried frantically to defend himself. It didn’t take more than a few savage moves before he was disarmed. Some distant part of Perian’s brain wryly pointed out that he could see now what Onadal meant about no opportunity for kneeing someone in the groin—it was all happening way too fast, and he didn’t see any openings. The man just kept coming, and Perian threw up his arm.

At least hehadlearned to block with his left arm instead of his right.

Someone screamed.

A gust of wind ripped across the quadrangle, and the Warrior was suddenly flattened. Perian had his left arm clamped to his chest with his other hand. He didn’t even remember moving.

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