After a moment, Castien’s telepathic presence wrapped around him, calm and soothing, chasing away any lingering feeling of wrongness and gently healing the cracks in Eridan’s mental landscape. Eridan smiled sleepily, already feeling the effects of the advanced mind healing. He closed his eyes, trusting his Master to take care of him.
He was safe. He was home. Everything would be all right.
He fell asleep almost immediately.
Chapter Eleven: The Grandmaster
It was strange how differently people looked at him now that he was the Grandmaster’s apprentice.
He was relieved when he finally left the public wing of High Hronthar and entered the quieter part of the castle. Part of him expected to be assaulted with the memories of last night, but there was nothing. He was calm. Eridan smiled a little, greatly relieved. He’d never been on the receiving end of advanced mind healing, and it was nice to know how effective it was. His Master must have been up until morning, healing the cracks in his psyche. It made Eridan feel warm on the inside.
He didn’t knock as he reached the large office the bond led him to.
Castien stood by the window, his unseeing gaze fixed on the mountains.
He was wearing a heavy white robe. The Grandmaster’s robe.
“White isn’t your color, Master,” Eridan said.
Castien turned to him.
All right, maybe he had lied a little: Castien looked good. He always looked good, but the white robe combined with his silver-white hair made the blue of his eyes and his darker eyebrows even more intense. He had his hair down for a change, instead of having it pulled back at his nape, but that didn’t soften his features at all, his sharp eyes and his firm, stubbled jaw dominating his face.
“How do you feel?” Castien said, studying him with an unreadable expression.
Eridan shrugged. “I’m okay,” he said honestly. “Why did you summon me? I thought you would be very busy today.”
“I am busy. As a matter of fact, I am leaving for the monastery. The service will be held there, of course.”
The service. Right. The death of the High Adept was a big deal. The members of the Calluvian Council would likely be in attendance.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Eridan said in his most neutral voice, hoping that wasn’t why Castien had summoned him. Attending the funeral service of the man he had accidentally killed wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.
“There is no need.”
Eridan tried not to look too relieved, but judging by the long look Castien gave him, he wasn’t fooling anyone.
Thankfully, at that moment Castien’s communicator chimed.
He answered, still looking at Eridan.
“…I will arrive soon, Irrene. Convey my apologies to the First Queen if she arrives before me. There were some unforeseen circumstances I had to deal with.”
“Who is Irrene?” Eridan said.
Castien switched the earpiece off. “A servant,” he said. “My secretary, to be precise.”
“You have a secretary now?”
“Of course,” Castien said. “One of the downsides of being the Grandmaster is that I will have to spend a lot of time at the monastery, meeting various members of the Calluvian Council. A secretary is needed to keep track of my appointments and come up with explanations for my absence when I am unavailable there.”
“Hmm,” Eridan said, walking to the window and looking at the gorgeous scenery below. “If you didn’t want me to accompany you, what did you summon me for?”
He felt Castien’s gaze on his face. “We did not have time to talk yesterday. What did Tethru want with you?”
He chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious, Master?”
“Tethru wouldn’t have dared to touch my apprentice because of something as meaningless as lust,” Castien said, walking closer. He put a finger under Eridan’s chin and tipped it up. “Did he tell you what he wanted?”
Eridan cocked his head to the side, a little confused. Strictly speaking, Castien didn’t need to ask him. He could have easily gotten the information he wanted from Eridan’s mind. The bond between them gave him easy access to his mind. Masters were allowed to read their apprentices’ minds; it wasn’t considered a violation by the Order’s rules. But Castien had been avoiding delving into his mind ever since their last not-merge. It was puzzling.
“He asked me what you were planning, why you didn’t apply for the position of the Grandmaster.” Eridan smiled crookedly. “He didn’t tell me much. He was too busy slobbering all over my neck.”
Castien’s nostrils flared.
His gaze dropped to Eridan’s neck.
There was nothing there, of course. Eridan had used a dermal regenerator—three times—to make sure the hickeys were gone.
Castien’s jaw clenched. “If you stayed home instead of wandering somewhere at night, trying to prove a point, none of this would have happened.”
Eridan pursed his lips, remembering their ugly fight before he’d stormed out of Castien’s mansion last evening. Had it really happened just yesterday?
Judging by the hard expression of Castien’s eyes, he hadn’t exactly forgotten their argument.