Emery glanced over at the new young constable. He wasn’t a mage and was, therefore, quite a bit taller than Emery was, though he was perhaps only a couple years older. Regardless of his age or lot in life, he seemed intensely interested in the young forensic mage. The attention was almost distracting.

“Did you want something?” he asked after passing the constable for the third time. The young man’s eyes hadn’t left his form once.

“You move with a great deal of grace,” the constable said softly. “I’d always figured that mages were… soft, bookish, yet… you seem… different.”

Emery found himself blushing as he said, “Oh, I’m bookish enough. You should see the house I share with my brother. We have a library – it’s wall to wall books. There’s nothing I like better at night than curling up with a good book.” He shrugged as he added, “My father always told me that a mage needs to have a physically healthy body in order to work spells properly. He taught us scerd flit – the preliminaries anyway. We learned more when we got to the Academy.”

The young constable ducked his head slightly and smiled. “Well, I’d never heard that the Academy taught such things. I always figured it was all… magical things like you read about in books.”

“I never expected that a warden constable would read such stories,” Emery teased. “I guess we both have a lot to learn about each other.”

The warden blinked in shock and Emery caught a glimpse of a soft blush tinting his cheeks as he bounced into the lab.

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