You’re not alone, Sephimara. Please know that I’m here if you need me.
Finally gesturing a quick bow, I continued, “Then I shall not disrupt you further.”
Her smile quirked up at one side. “Actually. These gentlemen have reminded me that I could use your assistance.”
All three spun to face her.
“Carrying my bag. To leave my hands free for my umbrella.” She pushed between two of them with the subtlety of a splitting wedge and handed me a leather messenger bag. “As you pointed out, such a thing is hardly the province of nobility such as yourselves, and Mister Thistlewood is the only commoner about. Good day to you.” The tone with which she sliced off the ends of her words made it clear that further words betweenthem wereunwished.
I fell in beside her, holding the door as she opened her umbrella, though an overhang shielded us from all but the damp gusts.
We stood at the edge of the overhang for half a minute, her rigidly holding a superfluous umbrella over both of us.
“I may only be a commoner, but I couldn’t help but notice that your bag has a shoulder strap.”
She tipped her head, expression masked in the dim light. “Does it? How silly of me to have forgotten such a thing.”
Another half minute of silence between us was broken by the clack of reptilian claws as her coach pulled up.
I handed her the bag.
“You are correct, Mister Thistlewood, Icanmanage my bag and umbrella together.” She stepped toward the open door, turning back to me as she was halfway in. “I did not require your assistance, Mister Thistlewood.” Her smile broadened, voice dropping to a whisper. “But itwasappreciated.”
Chapter Eight
The next week was awkward beyond measure.
We greeted each other in class, politely, courteously. No hint of ire in Sephimara’s tone or gestures. Had the lobby incident proven my good intentions? Or it really was a simple misunderstanding. Yet as much as I wanted to apologize again, this wasn’t like sanding some cabinet: do it again and again, and eventually things would be perfectly smooth.
Even the novelty of a well above average mark on the week’s geomagic quiz failed to wrench me out of the strange emotional rut.
We went back to work on finished boards for the day’s study session. I stayed well away from both her bags. Yet her wry quips felt… flat. And it wasn’t her quips that were the problem.
She ended the session with an odd question. “Do you dance, Mister Thistlewood?”
“I can do the Lindworm Lunge with the best of them.” A smile broke across my face. I didn’t intendit to. And the retort had just slipped out. Like it used to.
She tipped her head, the right corner of her lips quirked ever so slightly up.
“Yes,” I corrected. “The basic steps of the basic dances without endangering my partner’s footwear at least. Why?”
“No reason in particular. I wish you a pleasant evening.”
I headed back to the dormitory, initially mulling over her final comment. Yet with so many things she’d said this past week, there were a dozen different ways to interpret it. At least things were on an upswing. I nearly bumped into a certain obnoxious trio ahead of me, slowing my pace so I wouldn’t pass them.
Odd seeing them on campus on a weekend.
“You two are in for quite a treat this evening,” said Aldyr. I didn’t know the names of his companions. Technically, I hadn’t wanted to know his name. “I have reservations for the Crimson Kraken, which I am told is quite a desirable—” He shot me a sidelong glance. “You again. Rumor has it that you sully the Baroness with your presence.”
“Rumors?”
Aldyr stopped and faced me. “You sully the institution’s good name with your frivolous specialization, then compound matters—”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “A frivolous specialization shared by Lady Arazniros, by the way.”
The hint of red flashing across his face indicatedthat he was not amused by my insightful comment. “Her choices are none of your concern.”
“And my choices are none of yours.” I glanced at the corridor to the left, where the physical training area lay. The three of them blocked the path ahead, and I wasn’t in the mood to physically push past them.
