Page 46 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong

He didn’t know how yet, but he’d figure something out. He’d have time, because Onadal had already told him he was out of practice until his arm healed.

“But surely I can—” Perian had tried to protest.

Onadal shot him an unimpressed look. “What do you think Summus is going to do to me when he finds out you were hurt?”

Perian eyed the man. “Absolutely nothing because I am perfectly fine, you’ve dealt with the situation, and I would stop him—verbally, obviously—if he tried anything?”

Onadal smiled faintly. “And if you got injured again because I let you start training before you were all healed?”

Perian made a face and sighed. “Sorry, nice knowing you, I’ll come to your funeral?”

Onadal snorted. “Exactly. We’ll let him find you in one piece when he gets back and then see about more training, all right?”

Perian had to concede that made sense—for the safety of both ofthem, really.

“However,” Onadal continued, “it’s been brought to my attention that not everyone here has gotten the chance to know you. I think it would be beneficial if we improved those connections. What would you say to having dinner in the dining hall with us tonight?”

“Oh,” Perian said, a bit surprised. “That’s a good idea, thank you. But I’m already engaged to have dinner with Arvus and Molun tonight.”

“Bring them along, if you like. Everyone is welcome.” Onadal shrugged. “Or tomorrow. It’s a standing invitation. I don’t think it’s been entirely clear that you’re welcome. You are.”

“Thank you,” Perian repeated. “That means a lot. I’d like to get to know people better.”

Onadal nodded. “I’ll hope to see you later.”

Filled with renewed purpose and feeling weirdly happy, Perian headed back to Brannal’s rooms to grab the picnic blankets. Despite the attack yesterday, it seemed like maybe some good had come of it. Everything had started thanks to Brannal, but maybe some of Perian’s connections were becoming more independent.

Even with the injured arm, it was the regular routine to get the picnic basket and make his way out to the garden. Molun was one of the ones guarding Renny again.

Was there always a Water Mage guarding her because wraiths had been the ones to attack the castle and kill and injure so many people six years ago?

The fear that something terrible could happen was hard to completely eliminate. He felt the same way about Brannal being gone.

Molun eyed him carefully. “No new injuries?”

Perian shook his head, his smile rueful. “No training, just happy ogling. Onadal rightly pointed out what Brannal would be like if I got hurtmore.”

Molun snorted. “Yeah, have you ever seen a Mage Warrior on a rampage? Not pretty.”

The Warrior with him, a statuesque brunette, stifled a laugh. Perian was probably ruining Brannal’s image. Oh, well.

“So, no new training for me,” Perian said with a shrug, “but I’m still allowed to go watch and see if I pick up tips that way.”

Molun shot him a look that said he wasn’t fooled. “Oh, is ittipsthat you’re trying to pick up there?”

The Warrior gave in and laughed. Perian grinned at her.

“That reminds me. Onadal invited me to communal dinner today. Did you and Arvus want to come with me, or should I accept for tomorrow instead?”

“Tonight’s good,” Molun told him. “I mean, I’ll check with Arvus later, but I’m sure it’s fine. We’ll meet you in Brannal’s rooms, all right?”

Perian nodded. “Sounds great. See you in a bit.”

And smiling at both of them, Perian headed through the bushes. Renny was waiting for him, looking way more relaxed than she had yesterday, but she still carefully scanned him up and down as though looking for debilitating illness or injury.

He supposed he couldn’t really blame her.

“How are you?” she asked.

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