Liora challenged me after the forbidden drill and refused to let it sound romantic.
That required effort.
We stood in the old fencing yard again, two hours after Veylan had nearly used Professor Malcris as a teaching aid and been stopped only by Orvyn's emergency arrival. Old Arena C had been sealed properly this time. Not "temporarily unavailable." Sealed.
Niko had described the difference with academic despair.
Malcris had left smiling.
Naturally.
Any day that ended with Malcris smiling deserved investigation, exorcism, or both.
Rain had stopped, leaving the yard slick and gray. The straw figures along the wall sagged under water weight. My left hand held a wooden short sword. My right hand remained gloved, unreliable, and offended by existence.
Liora stood opposite me with her sword still sheathed.
That was rude.
Or merciful.
With Liora, the border was thin.
"Rematch," she said.
"No."
"You have not heard the terms."
"I assumed they included violence."
"They do."
