W E A L T H of E X P E R I E N C E

prologue

The truth of the matter was that he had always loved her.

Not- as tongues had waggled the moment he had appeared with her at Court, leading the then girl by her shoulders when she would have balked in her new finery – as a paramour. Not as a family member, a mentor, or even simply a friend – although the emotion certainly encompassed all three. His love simply was – so natural a part of him that it felt as if it had always been there, long before she had saved his life. It was a simple love that had and needed no label, and it only seemed to grow and deepen each time they passed each other, each time that they spoke. Each time his eyes fell on her.

Perhaps this was why he found the change so jarring.

"Are you all right, Numair?"

Lust had never felt like this before – and he had a wealth of experience with that pleasurable, drug-like sensation. But lust had never brought empty moans to his lips in the dead of night, had never made the planes of his chest and arms feel so hollow, so cold. Lust had never hurt.

"Numair?"

It was as if the framework of his affection and devotion for her had been doused in fire, honed by memory and welded to the iron forms of desire already set in his body and mind. Her proximity burned him, much like a flame to human skin, even when she was not touching him. And when she did touch him – so freely, without thought or focused intent – the rush of heat could bring him to his knees.

"Numair."

The emotion had branded him, and he knew with the absolute certainty of his formidable mind that even were it to fade, that the mark on his heart never would.

"...I am well, Magelet."

Numair Salmalin – the roguish iconoclast, the iniquitous Court Player – had fallen desperately in love with Veralidaine Sarrasri.

And it was agony.

So. This is a new, horrendously easy-to-write series that will focus entirely on Numair's sexual frustration during the six months before his lover's admission to Daine in RotG, which I hope will temper my own frustration as I struggle with writing "Lover's Token." So many author's portray Numair as being noble and restrained – and he is, to a point – but the man is admittedly a highly (experienced) sexual being, and I thoroughly plan to expose this.

For this reason, after this chapter the story rating will be elevated to "M". Things are about to get steamy.

I almost pity Numair. It just seems that we author's live to torment him.

BTW – I graduate from student to full vet tech today – a modern day wildmage. : ) Now I just need to find my own Black Robe...