~Trevor

  Now that she knew the way, the jog here was nothing for Lady Florence—Ren. It had taken about an hour for his horse Midnight to walk the two of them the few miles back to the LaVelle Duchy that first night, the night she’d destroyed her dress, but Florence could run it in half the time.

  What Trevor worried about now was Ren pushing herself too much. He knew how full her schedule was with the extra classwork. The time she spent with Professor Windemere alone would be enough to tire any other noble lady…yet, Florence continued to show up at their planned times breathless from running, but ready to put her body through the workouts he planned.

  It was almost as if there was a fire lit beneath her, and she must constantly move in order to avoid being burned.

  Did she ever rest?

  Why did he care?

  “Because if my mage burns herself out,” he muttered to himself, “I’ll be without one, and back to square one.”

  That was the only reason. He had a mage in his pocket for the next few years—as long as he didn’t mess this up, he wouldn’t need to search high and low for another one when the time came for him to employ her abilities.

  “I’m making progress on teleportation,” she told him in between sets of weightlifting, taking a sip from the waterskin. “In a few weeks, I may be able to start teleporting here instead of running.”

  She’d seemed extra motivated today, as if there was something bothering her. It wasn’t lost on Trevor that their strained teatime as ‘Lord Trevor’ and ‘Lady Florence’ had only been the day before. But as Thorne, there was no way he could ask her about it.

  “Won’t that tire you more quickly?” he asked instead.

  Florence shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. The…the drain I feel from using my mana isn’t any less than the fatigue from the run. It would save me quite a bit of time, though.”

  Ah, time. That would be a precious commodity for her. He nodded in agreement.

  “If Professor Windemere agrees it’s safe for you to do on your own, then who am I to stop you?”

  She smiled at him in the dim evening light. “As if you could stop me regardless.”

  “Huh.” He held back a smile of his own. “Fair point. Time for another set of five, Ren.”

  While he was easily over a foot taller than her and well over a hundred pounds heavier, he had no doubt she could knock him flat on his ass if she wanted to...using mana. Realistically, she was nowhere near being able to overpower him physically, but he estimated that might change in a year or so.

  He watched her form while she lifted the makeshift weights—bags of sand with a rope looped ‘round the middle. It was heavy for Ren, but if she wanted to increase her leg strength, then doing squats with the added weight was a surefire method.

  They’d only been practicing together for a few weeks, but they were already used to each other’s company. It was…easy to be around her. Which was dangerous. Too many times, he found himself slipping up, nearly coming out of character. Lord Trevor was cheeky—he couldn’t help it. It came from being a younger brother and middle child. But Sir Thorne was more stoic. He took his role as Lord Trevor’s ‘right-hand man’ seriously. Well, he was supposed to.

  Sometimes, Trevor simply wanted to tell Florence the truth. All of it.

  It would make everything easier, but, if she didn’t like his plan, or became offended at the thought of him using her powers for his own gain, then he’d be both without a mage and his secret would be out. He could say goodbye to his perfectly planned future.

  “Five,” Ren counted, breath shaky. “Saints! My legs are burning.”

  “That’s good,” he commented. “That means the exercises are working.”

  “It has become easier to run here—ouch!” she cried, jerking her leg. “Oh—ow! My leg! It hurts badly, right here! Here! By the Saints…Ow!!”

  From the way Florence’s foot was flexed, Trevor could tell her calf muscle was cramped up—one of the more painful kinds that can happen, especially if it had never happened to her before.

  “Forgive me,” he said, kneeling beside her, and she hurriedly nodded, holding her knee and gasping.

  He picked her up and deposited her on a nearby stump, then slid off her boot. With practiced fingers on one hand, he gently pressed into her cramped calf muscle, then grabbed her foot with the other and began to flex and relax the muscle by manipulating her foot as gently as possible. She wasn't one of his knights—her foot hardly filled his hand.

  “Ohhhhh, ow ow ow,” she hissed.

  “Breathe through it,” he told her, “I know it hurts. If you think it’ll help, you can pull on my hair.”

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  The words were out of his mouth before he thought them through. Thankfully, however, she only snorted out one chuckle through her cries of pain, then declined. Trevor always wore his cowl around her, never intending to reveal his hair or face in detail while masquerading as 'Thorne.' If she’d decided to rip the cowl off his head, though…she'd likely have recognized him instantly.

  “Ah!” she cried. “It’s starting to get a little better, I think. Oof! Ouch…”

  After a few minutes, the cramp was better. Sore, but her leg was no longer tensed in excruciating pain.

  “Thank you,” Ren said, sighing in relief. She walked in a circle, testing her weight on her foot and limping slightly.

  He handed her the waterskin.

  “Make sure you drink plenty of water,” he told her. “We noticed the knights who don’t drink as much water during training tend to cramp up more.”

  “Noted,” she said, after several sips of water.

  He nodded.

  “Oh, and I think we’ll end training here for today. Will you accept a ride back home tonight? It’s not a good idea to run on that leg quite yet.”

  After a few moments, as if she were reluctant, she nodded.

  ?????

  ~Florence

  It’s not as if I don’t like riding with Thorne. I do…which is part of the problem.

  I hope he does’t notice me hesitating with his offer to take me home, practical though it is. He's right—there is no way I’d be able to run, or even walk, home on my sore leg.

  Thank the Saints it had been so painful. If I’d been able to concentrate at all on Sir Thorne’s hands on my leg and foot, I don’t know what silly, stupid things I would’ve done.

  Kicked him? Possibly. And that would’ve been the least of it.

  Because his touch had been comforting...and it has been so long since somebody tried to make me feel better.

  His warmth at my back while we ride Midnight home also comforts me. I realize I feel safe, and I feel an odd sort of ache compelling me to sink into his chest and let his arms wrap around me, despite not understanding this urge.

  As these strange thoughts swirl in my head, the heat returns to my lower belly.

  “Are you alright, Ren?” Thorne asks. “You’re shifting about.”

  Am I? I breathe out slowly through my nose to try and still my body.

  Can I ask him about any of this? Is it appropriate? Then again, we’re going to be business partners—partners. Our relationship will evolve into something more than it is currently…which is strange enough, already.

  If Madam Rosanna knew I had someone like Sir Thorne in my life…well, if she didn’t faint from shock first, I’d be beaten black and blue for the impropriety of it all. That much is obvious.

  But, there are many things I know hardly anything about, and I knew when I decided to start training that I was going against expectations and rules.

  I huff out a breath, decided.

  “Sir Thorne,” I begin. “How do you know when you…like someone?”

  He immediately stiffens behind me—his arms jut out at angles on either side to lift off of mine, where they’d been resting while holding the reins.

  “Ah,” he says after a few moments, relaxing once more, “I’m not sure I’m the one you should be asking this, m’lady.”

  “Well, I’m not a lady right now, I’m only Squire Ren, right? Besides…I don’t have anyone else to ask. I suppose, normally, one’s sister or mother would be the correct person to ask, but mine are…not available.”

  “Ah.”

  Sir Thorne falls into silence for several moments, and I start to think he’s not going to answer, when he speaks—

  “I’ve heard that when you like someone, they constantly occupy your thoughts. Things remind you of them, for instance, you might see some flowery moss on a rock and be reminded of her—uh, their resiliency. Or, or, uh,” Sir Thorne clears his throat. “When you’re with them, you’ll feel happy and warm, and you’ll smile a lot. You’ll want to be near them all of the time.”

  “I see,” I say. “I see.” I can feel the deep crease in my brow as I think about his words.

  Was it that simple? Really?

  ?????

  ~Felix

  “Consult our Saint,” Russo told Felix. “Seek her wisdom and follow her guidance. It is not for me to tell you what to do in this matter.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Felix agreed.

  He had asked his brother what to do about Lady Florence. She had been on his mind constantly since he had run into her at the Royal Academy. The confrontation had shaken him deeply, and he'd avoided the campus since, despite his orders to regularly keep an eye on Lady Florence.

  “You will need to pray for guidance while I am gone, brother, for I will not be here to offer you advice even on the smallest matter,” Russo said, offering Felix a half-smile.

  Felix blushed and looked down, feeling slightly ashamed, but also adored by his brother’s gentle teasing. Felix often sought his brother out for guidance—too often. Even though they were twins, due to the time-trap, Russo had five more years of life experience than Felix, a fact that Felix relied heavily upon.

  “It will be good for you to be on your own for a few months,” Russo said.

  “If you say so, brother. I’m not nearly as confident as you are, though.”

  “Give yourself time.” Russo placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders. The twins stood at the exact same height—five feet, eight inches (173 cm)—and they had the exact same silver hair and eyes—only Russo’s face held the abuse of five years of grueling study and spellwork to free Felix, in the form of tired eyes, gaunt skin, and an air of maturity far beyond his years. “I’ll be back in a few months.”

  “Good luck in the north, brother.” Felix brought his arms up and pulled Russo in for an embrace. “Please return safely.”

  “I will try,” he said.

  If Felix felt a sense of forboding in his brother's words, he did not let his alarm show on his face.

  He wanted Russo to leave with a smile.

  Wait wait wait....does Florence *like* someone? Like....*like* like? ??

  Next up is my Q&A: Who is Kitty Blush? If you have a question for me, please put it in the comments!

  xo??kb