Everyone in this story is 18 years or older.
***
Alia's blood boiled as she bursted into her chambers, stripping off her silk dress. After months and months of continually placating him, hoping he would finally teach her something more than one or two simple incantations, she was done. Done with him and his condescending tone and his sense of superiority.
Just because he was her teacher did not mean that he could treat her like a servant, making her handle simple kitchen chores and demeaning tasks. She was not your ordinary green girl, from one of the many small villages that scattered the kingdom. She was descended from a line of powerful mages, wizards, and sorcerers, and was supposed to be training in preparation for her role at court. How was this grooming her to become a court mage, one of the most important positions in the kingdom.
She groaned in frustration as she continued to unlace her dress, her hands still shaking. It did not help her situation that her instructor was so attractive. Though he was at least a hundred years old, he looked in his early twenties, since those with magical abilities aged slowly, living hundreds if not thousands of years. His face was young, almost boyish, but his eyes showed his age.
Dark and guarded, his deep green eyes showed no glimpse of the naivety that most young men possessed. Those eyes had seen things, horrible things that she could never understand. And when he looked at her, his mouth smirking, his eyes stern, Alia always froze, as if he could see right through her. She felt her face grow hot as she recalled the way his black silky hair always fell into his face when he was reading, and how strong he was, his muscles hidden beneath stiff black clothing and court robes.
Stop, she thought trying to compose herself. She hated him, and she was done trying to learn from him. She would find another teacher, someone who would actually prepare her for the trials ahead. As she finally stepped out of the dress, confident in her decision, she heard a sharp knock on her door. Now only in a thin cotton shift, Alia froze as another knock rang through her chamber.
Silence, followed by another swift knock. Before Alia could answer, the door burst open, hitting the stone wall behind it with a resounding crack. He stood in the doorway, hair askew, with a ruffled look only frustration could achieve. At first he looked determined, but his face soon shifted, turning a deep shade of pink as he realized what he had just barged in on. She had never seen him blush, and he looked oddly boyish as his eyes ran down her body, his mouth slightly ajar.
Has he never seen a naked women before, Alia thought. It looked as if he one of the many green boys who ogled the busty merchant's wives who came into town to sell their goods. However, unlike the boys back home, he quickly recovered, only frozen for half a second before composing himself and turning around. Alia then thought she heard him mumble something that sounded vaguely like an apology before shutting the door behind him.
***
In all his 300 years of existence Magnus had never been more mortified. Sure he had been embarrassed, humiliated, even disgraced on a couple occasions. But regardless of the situation, he had never lost his composure. Until now.
What was it about that girl that embarrassed him so? It was not like she was the first women he had even seen. Though Mangus tended to avoid the company of others, he still had his fair share of experiences.
