At last, the High Adept whimpered, blood trickling out of his nose as he fainted, slumping to the floor.
Ksar exhaled, his face losing the look of concentration, but his shoulders remained tense as he regarded the unconscious monk with a grim expression in his eyes.
“What did you do?” Seyn whispered, glancing at the door, afraid of someone walking in. If they had been observed, they were screwed.
And then he almost laughed. What was wrong with him? He was afraid of the wrong thing here. If Ksar could reduce even the best mind adept on the planet to a heap on the floor, then he could easily fuck with Seyn’s mind ten times over and make him believe anything he wanted. It should have scared him. It didn’t. He felt a lot of things around Ksar, but fear wasn’t one of them, had never been.
Maybe he was an idiot.
Ksar shifted his eyes to him. “Your nose is bleeding,” he said in a clipped voice. “Did he hurt you?”
Seyn touched his own nose and wiped the few drops of blood he found. “What happened?”
“I dismantled his defenses while he was distracted, but he was stronger than I expected. He’s at least Class 6.” Ksar got to his feet and, taking Seyn’s wrist, hauled him up. “Does your head hurt?” he said, without looking at him.
Seyn stared at him. “Does it matter to you?”
A muscle flexed in Ksar’s jaw. “I wouldn’t waste my time asking about something that didn’t matter. He’s a high-level telepath. A prolonged telepathic contact with one is always dangerous.”
“You’re a high-level telepath, too,” Seyn murmured, watching Ksar curiously. “I’ve survived having you in me multiple times just fine.” Immediately, Seyn regretted his choice of words. Ugh. “He got pretty deep, but I’ve had you much deeper.” Seyn flushed, mortified by the stuff coming out of his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he keep reminding Ksar of what they’d shared?
Thankfully, Ksar’s still wasn’t looking at him, so he didn’t see his blush. His gaze was averted, his face hard as stone. Only his grip on Seyn’s wrist tightened. “That was different,” he said. “He isn’t me.”
Before Seyn could process what that was supposed to mean, Ksar released Seyn’s wrist and walked over to the unconscious man. He pressed his hand below the High Adept’s ear and closed his eyes for a moment.
Stroking his own wrist, Seyn stared at Ksar’s profile, his eyes trailing over Ksar’s strong jaw and the firm, arrogant curve of his lips.
He dragged his gaze away.
“Act a little disoriented and overwhelmed,” Ksar said, straightening up. “Like you just had your bond broken.”
Before Seyn could say anything, the High Adept opened his eyes and sat up, frowning.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Ksar said, sounding embarrassed, of all things. “I didn’t mean to push you away.”
The High Adept’s face cleared up, as if Ksar’s words made total sense. “I understand. I have been told the sudden lack of the bond can be disorienting.” A wrinkle suddenly appeared between his brows. He looked between them sharply as he got to his feet.
Seyn’s stomach dropped. Did he suspect something, after all?
The High Adept looked at Ksar. “As you are a Lord Chancellor of the MIA, I’m sure I do not need to remind you to retake the Standard Telepathic Test within the next two days, Your Highness.”
Ksar nodded. “And I’ll make sure that Seyn’ngh’veighli does the same.”
The monk looked at Seyn. “Are you well, Your Highness? You look pale.”
Seyn winced. “Just a little overwhelmed. Everything feels…so much more.”
He must have sounded pretty convincing, because the High Adept actually seemed sympathetic. “It was to be expected,” he said. “But if you experience any difficulty handling your heightened senses, you are welcome to return to the High Hronthar. I will make time for you.”
“I’m sure it won’t be necessary,” Ksar said flatly. “Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”
Seyn followed Ksar out of the room. He felt the High Adept’s unnerving gaze on his back until the door closed behind them.
“I think he suspects something,” Seyn whispered.
Ksar didn’t say anything.
“Did you hear me?” Seyn said.
“Yes,” Ksar said, looking straight ahead.
“And?” Seyn went silent, waiting until the few monks heading the opposite way passed them. “Aren’t you worried?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ksar said. He still wasn’t looking at him.
Seyn glowered at him, starting to get really pissed off. Nothing pissed him off as much as Ksar’s ignoring him and making him feel like he didn’t matter.
“Why not?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He won’t dare do anything against me,” Ksar said. “Even if he is suspecting something, I just got enough dirt on him to make him very agreeable.”
“You watched his private memories?” Seyn wasn’t sure what it said about him that the emotion he was feeling was exasperation, not outrage or disgust.