The Dragon of Trelian by Michelle Knudsen Read Free Book Online

nervous and silly. And then there were his eyes, his beautiful dark eyes, which she suddenly realized were looking right back at her across the table. . . .
    Meg blinked and quickly looked away.
Stupid, stupid,
she thought angrily, reaching for her heavily watered wine to stall until she could think of some reasonable explanation for why she had been staring at him. Her brain refused to cooperate. She risked looking back up and found him still watching her, though not with annoyance or contempt as she had feared. Instead he gave her one of those smiles, which did nothing to help quiet the mad fluttering of her heart within her chest, and held her gaze a moment more before turning to respond to something his mother, seated to his right, had asked him.
    Freed from her momentary paralysis, Meg looked away and found Maerlie smirking at her from the far end of the table. Meg shrugged helplessly, and Maerlie shook her head, laughing.
    For the rest of the meal, Meg did her best to avoid looking at Wilem as much as possible. This was made easier by two things. One, that Maurel was keeping Wilem occupied with endless boring questions about what it was like living in Kragnir, which Wilem was too polite to do anything other than answer, and two, that Sen Eva, Wilem’s mother, had actually managed to draw Serek into a conversation, and nearly all of Meg’s attention was focused on this rare and informative event.
    “It was fortunate that Trelian was able to secure your services so quickly after Mage Fredrin’s passing, Mage Serek,” Sen Eva said as a serving boy replaced her plate with the next course. “Although I’m sure your previous patrons were sorry to lose you.”
    “The Magistratum is careful not to reassign a mage without a replacement at hand,” Serek answered. “I believe Mage Arlena arrived within hours of my departure, in fact.”
    “Of course.” Sen Eva inclined her head slightly. “I suppose after more than three hundred years, the Magistratum has things well in hand.” She flashed a radiant smile at him, the kind of smile that usually made one feel compelled to smile back. Serek pursed his lips; Meg wondered if that passed for a smile as far as he was concerned.
    “I don’t have a great deal of experience in these matters,” Sen Eva went on. “Our mage at Kragnir has been at his post for as long as I can remember, and we have not had many dealings with the Magistratum in recent years. Is it difficult, moving around as often as you have?”
    “Difficult, madam?”
    “Well, adjusting to a new place, new people . . .”
    “A mage’s life is dedicated to his work, wherever he is posted. I am, of course, honored to have been appointed King’s Mage, but I serve King Tormon and Queen Merilyn best by focusing on the work, not the environment.”
    Meg was impressed by Sen Eva’s ability to persevere with such poise in the face of Serek’s determined bluntness. Most people probably would have given up, but Sen Eva smiled warmly at him again. “I’m sure this dedication is indeed what led to your appointment, Mage Serek.” She paused, then went on, “May I ask — is an appointment such as this one, an honor like this — is it recorded in your marks? Forgive me, but I’ve never understood the full scope of what a mage’s marks include.”
    That was an interesting question. Meg had wondered about the same thing herself. Calen’s face was barely marked, just a few lines and small shapes under his left eye, but Serek had delicate black lines spiraling across both sides of his face, with tiny symbols and dots of color worked into the design at various points.
    Serek shook his head. “No.” For the first time, Meg thought she detected the barest touch of emotion in his voice. “No, the marks are given for years of study, fields of expertise, and accomplishments of that nature, Sen Eva. A mage may serve many masters in his lifetime, but it is the work and the study of magic that defines his life and