Lyrion had never loved the man. His predilections were even more repulsive than the mage himself, but, at least, he had, up to now, had the decency to keep it private.
The halfling still couldn’t figure out why Harkenon had chosen to share his little secret with him. It was well known that he had no objection to the pleasures of the flesh and an impressive breath of experience, but he drew the line mental slavery… Without free will, there was no chase, no thrill of negotiations and no person.
Regardless of the man’s motivation – and Lyrion was starting to think it was probably his very disgust that titillated the slug – now he, Lyrion, was also burdened with the knowledge.
Novices were Academy resources and if it was discovered that he had kept one to himself, leashed with an old Sinzhen collar no less, the whole school would be embarrassed.
Once, he had gotten this through Harkonen’s thick, meaty skull, the man at least had enough sense to agree to a plan of action. If they could civilize the girl and have her reach the second circle of magic without anyone figuring it out, they could have her accepted as a gifted student.
The soft sound of slippered feet broke his train of thought. He looked up and smiled.
“Ah, just the lovely azure princess I was looking for!”