Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) by Sever Bronny

orb back in the rucksack. “As you can plainly hear, the archmage is quite busy. There is a reason she has entrusted me with your care—my sound judgment.” He used Telekinesis to float the rucksack back to Augum, who yanked it from the air.
    Harvus dusted off his gloved hands. “You have another year before you may be allowed to ask for her hand in marriage, Augum Stone. Until then, you are not to look at each other that way. If I ever catch either of you cavorting in an unwholesome manner, you will be punished. And do not think for one moment I will not separate you entirely. Only Augum is essential to the quest. As such, from here on, Augum will be sleeping in separate accommodations with me, for clearly without supervision you two will run amok.”
    Augum could hardly believe what he was hearing. He shook his head in protest while mouthing the word “No!”
    “You have not earned the right to speak yet, Augum. You are going to sit over there—” Harvus pointed at a log, “and read the appropriate chapter that you neglected thus far. As long as I am able, I will not let your youthful infatuations murder people through negligence of your duties. This frivolity ends now.”
    “Mr. Harvus,” Bridget began softly, “do you not think you’re being a touch unfair?”
    “I am surprised to hear a word of protest from you, dear Bridget, seeing as he is placing you directly in the path of danger. I would think you to possess a sensible nature that sees how important Augum’s place is, and how he is squandering opportunity after opportunity to take charge of his destiny, and most probably the destiny of so many others—all because some silly fling with nothing more than a common—” He stopped himself and cleared his throat authoritatively.
    “The Arinthian Line must be protected from itself,” he said. “ ‘When thy fallen can’t be slain, when lion children rise again, when fires burn from east to west, blood of kin can vanquish death’.”
    Augum remembered his great-grandfather’s last words—identified by Mrs. Stone to be an ancient witch poem—all too well. But he’d be damned if anything or anyone would keep him away from Leera—prophecy or no prophecy. Stupid poem or not.
    “If it was not for the Legion coming today,” Harvus said, “I would parade you both through the town so everyone may see your shame.” He smoothed his robe. “Now, Leera—since you have not bothered to study—and we plainly know why now—you will sit down with Bridget and learn the correct pronunciation. And just so both of you know how serious I am about you two not touching—” He placed his gloved hands on Leera’s squirming shoulders. “Concutio del alarmo duo tactus dolor Augum Stone,” then performed the same spell on Augum, replacing his name with Leera’s. Augum could barely stand still with the loathing he felt for the man.
    “That was an advanced off-the-book extension of the Object Alarm spell. When you two touch in any way, not only will I hear an alarm, but your touch will cause each other pain. It really is for your own good.” Harvus stood back with a satisfied nod. “And now that that is over with and settled, let us return to your studies.”
    Augum and Leera locked gazes for a moment. Her eyes reflected the longing sorrow he felt.

Humiliation
    Augum must have read the same paragraph a hundred times, yet nothing had sunk in—that is how clouded his thoughts were with anger. How dare Harvus stick his nose in their business! Who was he to tell him and Leera they were not to see each other in that way, or to touch! Yet every plan Augum formulated came up against the same obstacle—Mrs. Stone had given the man free reign, and regardless of what was happening, their studies were incredibly important.
    When Jengo came to the cabin, his face contorted with a puzzled expression at their silent melancholy. Mr. Harvus acted as if nothing had happened at all—he was almost cheerful when he told Jengo