“Does your head still hurt?” Alec asked.

“No, thankfully, but I don’t think I slept well.” Seregil rubbed at his eyes, then frowned up at him. “Bilairy’s Balls, what happened to your face?”

“You did, talí. You thrashed around while you were dreaming.” Alec went to the tall looking glass and ruefully examined the small bruise under his right cheekbone. “You’re a hazard to sleep with sometimes.”

Seregil came over and gently kissed the bruise. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe it was just the rich food last night. Alania’s cook uses too much spice and butter.”

“That’s probably it,” Seregil said with a chuckle, but it sounded a bit hollow, for they both remembered a time when his nightmares had been more than mere dreams.

Late-morning sunlight streamed in through the dining room doors. In the garden beyond, the crocuses had already vanished and jonquils and fragrant hyacinth were in bloom under the budding lilacs. Fresh green leaves adorned the rosebushes. Seregil and Alec were lingering over a late breakfast when Runcer ushered in Thero and his young apprentice, Mika.

Ten years old now, the sandy-haired boy had grown half a hand span since Thero had rescued him from the sleeping death. Bright and inquisitive, and a bit mischievous at times, Mika was utterly devoted to Thero. His wide grey eyes shone with pride and adoration at every approving word.

Runcer went off to the kitchen to fetch extra dishes and milk for Mika.

“What brings you two out so early?” asked Alec, pouring a mug of strong Aurënen tea for Thero.

“Early?” Thero scoffed. “It’s nearly noon and you’re still in your dressing gown. Did Alania keep you two out all night again?”

“No, we finished early, as it happens,” said Alec.

“I like her,” Mika informed them, reaching for a spiced bun. “She kisses me, but she gives me sweets, too.”

Thero moved the buns out of reach without touching the plate. “Manners!”

The wizard’s relationship with the boy was that of a teacher, mentor, and guardian since Mika had moved from his parents’ house to Thero’s tower rooms at the Orëska House. Despite being a rather strict disciplinarian, Thero clearly cared deeply for his apprentice, and Seregil continued to marvel at the transformation of the man—once rival, and now valued friend. The “cold fish” of old had matured into a reasonable human being, concerned with more than just his prowess with magic and thirst for knowledge.

Mika did his best to look contrite. “May I have a bun, please, Lord Alec?”

Alec grinned and nudged the plate back within reach. “Have as many as you like.”

While the adults chatted about various social doings, Mika ate his fill of buns and bacon, managing to slip a few morsels to the pair of white Zengati hounds lurking under the table when he thought no one was looking. When the meal was over, Thero suggested the boy take the dogs into the garden.

Seregil whistled Zir and Mârag out from under the table and found a well-gnawed wooden ball for Mika to throw for them. When he was gone, Seregil gave the wizard a questioning look.