The night is sleepless, as are most nights after such intense negotiation. Everything is overwhelming: Touch, sound, smell and taste. Even the darkness of the shuttered room feels oppressive.

  I wake to a dull headache. There’s a bird singing merrily at my window. I cast animal communication and tell it to shut up.

  Melvin is in the room setting up breakfast on a small table. It’s a bit concerning that this is the first time I didn’t wake from his entrance. Am I losing my instincts, or is it just because I’m so tired from last night?

  As Marvin isn’t a cook, and the servant kitchen below is shared by the entire dorm, breakfast is necessarily simple. Some toasted bread, condiments including butter, honey and jam, some dates, some nuts, some wine, a chunk of cheese and a single medium boiled egg. I could get better fare at the dining hall for free, but I appreciate starting my morning quietly – mentally fortifying for the day ahead.

  “My lord,” he says as I insert a spoon between egg and shell, peeling it in one smooth motion, “I was hoping now that you have rested you might reconsider your response to the Princep.”

  “I don’t see what there is to reconsider.” I pop the entire egg in my mouth and wash it down with a gulp of watery wine.

  “My…lord,” he says, clearly distressed, though it’s not clear whether is from my answer or manners. Alan would no doubt chide me, not for the breach of table etiquette, but that the breach wasn’t more stylish. Well, not having to care about that is one of the reasons I break fast in solitude.

  “My lord,” he starts again, much more confidently, “I advise that rudeness towards any member of the imperial family could be extremely dangerous.”

  “Rudeness? What rudeness? If anyone has been rude it was him. I’m merely being direct in my refusal to give him another opportunity to do so.” Even I see this is sophistry, but I am not caring about it. The Princep caught me off guard in our meeting. I acted weakly. I’m unused to facing opponents who I can’t just kill but can, theoretically, kill me. I tried to thread the needle between recklessness and fear and failed. So now I need to choose one extreme, and I do not choose fear.

  “My lord, often rudeness is just being too direct.”

  “Maybe, but I think it’s needed here. I don’t wish to associate him, and anything less direct may be misconstrued.”

  “And you think your response will make him try to associate with you less?” He says it like I’m being ridiculous.

  “Sigh. Say your meaning.”

  “My lord, rudeness between nobles is unusual, and the unusual draws attention.”

  “…Maybe, but my response is unchanged. Deliver it while I’m at class. Now, if that’s all?”

  “Yes, my lord.” He says, bowing his head before leaving me to finish my meal in peace.

  I finish eating quickly and read the rest of the time before having to go. I put the remaining cheese and nuts in my pocket for a snack and head to the door, but impulsively turn around and go to the window to check the roof. I sigh in relief when I don’t see Emily still on the roof. It would be annoying if she felt up to a matutinal spell session after her stunt in the storm.

  I suppose there’s a slim chance she may have been injured physically by the storm, though I assumed she was capable of properly assessing her precautions. A shield spell at the very least. Besides, if she was injured, I’m sure someone would have spotted her during their own morning study session.

  …Just to be sure, I contact one of my tagged birds and ask if it sees anyone. It doesn’t, so I keep walking. I suppose I could have it tap on her window or something, but that would be intrusive and for what point? To see if she has as miserable of headache as me, or, worse, that she doesn’t have one at all? The former would bring little pleasure as it’s expected, and the latter would be annoying.

  So, with Emily Salhal completely out of my mind, I make my way to the irregular weapons class.

  The class’s training field is full of squires. At least I recognize several from the team tests, and the rest move like them. Regardless, I seem to be the only mage here. Weird, I would have at least thought there’d be a few illusionists.

  I spot Ligryn standing slightly alone. She’s between several groups that she might, at a casual glance, seem connected to, but is interacting with none. She spots me and gives a polite nod and smile. Seeing no one else I know beyond brief encounters, I choose to take it as an invitation and head over with a smile of my own.

  “Ligryn, good to see you. Not since the exam, right? I don’t think I saw you at the party after it.”

  She shakes her head. “I fear Riley’s opinion of my origin is typical here, and he had no reason not to share it after our team ended, so I chose not to attend.”

  I nod in understanding, then shake my head in not understanding. “But wouldn’t such a withdrawal make your task harder?”

  She sighs, but not at me. “Yes, but I should be able to make connections without exposing myself to needless hostility. Still, I’ve admittedly never been very good at this sort of thing. No doubt my brother is doing much better as my opposite.”

  In Hyclion, I mentally finish for her. I should be glad that Hyclion got the better envoy, though I think she was trying to cause me to worry about it (which shows ironic adeptness surpassing my own). Well, not like it matters that much. She’s not the only Rohdami noble learning here, so I’m sure it’ll balance out.

  “I see,” I say, not biting into whatever she set the bait for.

  She smiles. “I should thank you.”

  “Why? You’re not referring to my contribution to the team score, are you? I thought you were guaranteed entrance regardless.”

  “Ah, well, that too, I suppose. My entrance might have been political, but I do feel better about it with a higher score. But no, I refer to a moment where, right before it was revealed anyways, you seemed to have figured out something of my origin but chose not to share it.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I shrug. “I didn’t think it would be helpful, though I guess Adrian did.”

  She nods. “That one knows much more than they let on. I understand that revealing what they did might have been good for the team, but it did create awkwardness for me afterwards. Which I think was an intended goal.”

  “I see,” I say, uncertain what to make of her vague assertions against Adrian’s character, and so decide to change subjects. “Well anyways, I’m actually a bit surprised to see you taking this class.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I guess you just didn’t give the impression of it.”

  She gives me a confused look. “What does that have to do with it? It’s part of the standard training set for knights. If anything, it should be me who’s surprised. I thought you only did things at range if you can help it, not to mention being a mage.”

  I shake my head. “I did some melee fighting. You saw me, remember?”

  “I saw you get run through after flailing your sword about and then run.”

  “Hey, you ran too, remember? And didn’t the guy who fought me end up killing you?”

  “If he did, I certainly put up more of a fight than you.”

  “What a high standard, comparing your sword skill with a mage’s.”

  “So, you admit it’s poor?”

  “I admit nothing… but yes, obviously my ability in the area is worse than knight aspirants.”

  “So why are you taking a class for knight aspirants then?”

  “It didn’t say it was for knight aspirants, and besides, I thought it would match my style of combat.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean what do I mean? It’s irregular weapons, it’s all about concealable weapons and dirty fighting, right?”

  She gives me a bizarre look – or rather, looks at me as if I’m bizarre. “You do realize it’s a defence class, right? You know, teaching you to be vigilant against those weaker than you who might try desperate tricks?”

  “…What?”

  She breaks out into wholehearted laughter, completely out of what I took to be her character. “You didn’t, did you? You thought… you thought it would teach you how to fight dirty better, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yeah, the catalogue said…” thinking back I realize the wording was ambiguous, “I mean, it didn’t say it wouldn’t.”

  She laughs again. “What sort of knight would take a class teaching you how to fight dishonourably?”

  “I didn’t know the class was for knights!” I half shout, blushing as I notice people looking at us.

  She continues laughing for far too long before wiping tears from her face. “Thank you Malichi, that um… that helped.”

  “Glad I could be of service,” I mutter darkly, then silently refuse to look at her.

  Well, this is just great. Why didn’t the catalogue just say it was for knights? I mean, obviously all the descriptions were sparse to save space, but still, they could have had some indication. I guess I should try to change classes.

  …Although, I suppose this isn’t completely different to what I was hoping. While they won’t teach me dirty tricks, they will show me how they defend against them, which I can use to make better tricks. So maybe this won’t be a complete waste after all.

  …Although, if this is a knight class, then it’ll be taught at their standard of intensity…. Oh no.

  “MORNING ASPIRANTS!” A booming voice calls out from behind us just as I’ve decided to turn around and quietly walk out before the instructor gets here. “I SEE YOU’RE ALL ADEQUATELY HAGGARD. HOPEFULLY IT’S BECAUSE YOU ALL TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE STORM LAST NIGHT AND NOT FROM EXCESS REVELRY!” He laughs, far too much.

  …Does he think it’s plausible that we all just went to the same party or something? Amazingly, I see several squires crack a smile at the… well, I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a joke.

  I turn to see a grizzled and very muscular/bulky old man with scars crisscrossing his face and exposed forearms. He seems to be missing bits from every extremity. An eye and an ear, fingers on his left hand and, from a slight limp, I would guess a few toes. Presumably, he chose not to have them grown back because external body alterations can interfere with a knight’s own magic. Though I don’t see the point if he’s been relegated to teaching, especially since such small changes shouldn’t have much of an impact.

  “WELL,” he shouts upon reaching us. Is he seriously incapable of not shouting? I get shouting from a distance, but he’s like right there. We all have enhanced hearing; there’s no need for this. “IT’S BEST IF WE JUST GET STARTED. I’M GOING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO DEFEND AGAINST SURPRISE ATTACKS. THE FIRST TRICK AN ENEMY WILL PULL IS ATTACKING WHILE YOU’RE EXHAUSTED. SO, FROM NOW ON, NO MORE JUST STANDING AROUND WAITING FOR ME TO SHOW UP. WHEN I GET HERE, I WANT TO SEE YOU RUNNING! NOW! WE’RE GOING TO RUN UNTIL WE DROP!”

  Sigh, of course we are.

  …

  “Yes, I see, quite an amusing misunderstanding,” head teacher Clarissa regards my exhausted form reposed on a chair in her office with an amused smile. “I did wonder why you selected that class.”

  “I’m honoured that the head teacher felt it worth checking my class selection.”

  “Of course, not many students are admitted to fulfil an imperial mandate after all,” she says, ignoring my obvious irony.

  I grimace as I lean my sore body forward to express interest. “You mentioned that during my interview, but I haven’t found any reference to it elsewhere.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to discuss it.”

  “Beyond revealing its existence, it seems.”

  “Yes,” she mutters half to herself, “someone did let that slip, didn’t they? I really should have chastised her more.”

  “Well, anyways, you’ll let me change classes then? Maybe to one that better furthers this mysterious mandate?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ll let you quit the class without consequence, if you really want to. But it would be irresponsible of me to let you change to another class when you’re already under such a heavy course load. After all, you’ve already overestimated your ability to handle it once.”

  “The only thing I overestimated was the academy’s ability to write useful course descriptions.”

  She laughs, softly. “Perhaps the catalogue could be better organized to avoid such misunderstandings. I’ll have a talk with the responsible party. Regardless, you have two options: keep the class or drop it.”

  “Perhaps there’s a compromise. After all, surely my original conception of the class would have been in line with the mandate?”

  “You know I can neither confirm nor deny that supposition.”

  “Well, assuming that I’m right. I don’t see the benefit of a class where I’m asked to keep up with knights, but perhaps I could change sides, as it were. I could be evaluated on my ability to come up with dirty tricks that I’ll use against my classmates.”

  She smiles patronizingly. “You do have a devious mind, certes, but from what I’ve seen it’s more skilled in analysing big picture things. Exploiting rules and the like. Not the nitty gritty acts of desperation the class is about.”

  “I did throw sand in the sword tournament.” I point out.

  She laughs softly again. “And to think I never thought I’d hear someone claiming that as a positive. But still, the answer is no. You might very well make excellent additions to the course, but you are still just a first year student. It was a novel idea, but it would be irresponsible of me to put you in a position where your failure could affect the learning of so many others.”

  I nod, realizing she has a fair point, even if it’s one that makes me want to argue for my compromise more. Well, it’s not like tricking a small bunch of squires into learning wrong would have much of an impact on the empire. “I understand. I’ll quit the class then. Thankyou for your time, head teacher.”

  “…Although,” she half mutters, causing me to pause halfway to the door, “if you are looking for a compromise that’ll further the mandate and keep your heavy load, there is a novel opportunity you may be interested in.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Ah, no, I spoke too soon. I’ll need to discuss it with the involved instructor before offering it. I’ll send you a message within a week if something comes of it.”

  “Ah, well, thankyou for the consideration anyways,” I say sincerely, then leave.

  My body is still sore when I get back to the dorm, so I immediately get in a maximally hot bath and close my eyes with the intent of falling asleep.

  “Ah, my lord, good, you’re back.”

  “Sigh, Martin.”

  “It’s Marcus.”

  “Marcus, right. Is something the matter?”

  “Yes, er, no. I mean… well. I went to deliver your reply to the Princep as you asked, and well, he sent another invitation. One I really think you shouldn’t burn.”

  Sigh. Of course he did.