Chapter Eleven

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It was about the time Naena started crying as she related her day to him that Theon realized he had a problem. When he tried to comfort, he discovered another problem.

Naena wasn't crying because she was sad, she was crying because she was angry.

So angry, she didn't know what to do.

In a mage that generally meant that things blew up, including Naena. Except, instead of that, she sobbed until she could cry no more, and then all that remained was a bit of anger, smouldering beneath the surface.

At no point did she accuse anyone of being mean or hurting her feelings. She did not throw words out that might have given her an excuse for what happened. She really seemed to try to provide Theon with a report of her day without taking any side.

Theon watched it all, uncertain of what to do.

Explosion? Kill the mage.

Rage? Give the boy a drink and perhaps direct him toward sex.

Anger? Talk about the betterment of the world through performing in a certain way.

Tears?

He had never been prepared to provide advice for a student who cried. Boys were taught from a young age that crying was a sign of weakness. Even after working in the field, most boys didn't come to understand that tears were not always about sadness.

Theon sat with his fingers steepled as he watched the frustrated woman sob because she didn't feel comfortable skinning her enemies. As he wondered if doing the skinning for her might be considered out of place or inappropriate.

Because if it would prevent Naena from crying in his study again, yes, Theon would joyously skin a student or two and cherish in their screams.

Naena expressed emotion where other students were taught to bury that emotion, keep it deep down inside where no one could ever see. Where the emotion could not affect their magic.

Yet those students flared every time they became angry. There Naena was, all sorts of an emotional mess, and Theon's study remained perfectly aligned both physically and magically.

When the anger and tears would come no more, Naena drew in a shuddering breath.

Theon was certain, absolutely certain, that Naena would quit then and there. He had seen a meltdown or two in his life. He knew the signs.

"They're going to do it again tomorrow," she said.

Her tears suggested giving up, but her tone said she would beat the next person to give a suggestion, let alone command.

Steepled fingers pressed against his lips, Theon considered his ward.

That moment, the little shudder before she spoke, Theon decided, was a dangerous time. That was when Naena decided something. When her tears dried up and her entire focus was on what she saw as a solution to a problem.

Theon had felt that crystallizing moment in his rage. He knew what it felt like.

Knew the sort of destruction which could follow.

He drew in a breath, aware that Naena wanted an answer to her question.

"Yes," Theon said, deciding honesty would be the best policy.

"I'd like fewer reasons for them to pick on me."

"Short of changing your gender, I doubt that will happen," he said.

There came a knock on the door.

Theon made a sound and motion to Naena before he stood and went to the door. When he saw Narmer standing there, he slipped out and closed the door. No need for Naena to hear the discussion which was about to take place.

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