The writing was on the walls that no one would be able to focus through one of Sister Aster’s lectures, so when she announced that it would be a free discussion block, even Loria hadn’t been able to contain a sigh of relief. Most of her classmates were content to use the discussion time to gossip about the next day’s dance, but Loria’s mind was squarely fixed on the second day of the dueling tournament. Relief at her qualifying for the bracket stage had carried her through the night, but when morning came, she’d had the belated realization that she still had the chance to embarrass herself if she didn’t perform well enough that afternoon.

“I honestly can’t wait for this whole festival to be over,” Vincent said. The bespectacled red-haired seminarian had also bounced off the Harvest Dance rumor mill, and so he’d joined Loria for a quiet talk in the back of the lecture hall, away from groups of friends arguing over pre-dance dinner plans and last minute date-making.

Loria frowned at him. “Not much for pageantry?” Her own feelings were similar to his, but she imagined their reasons would be quite different. As far as she knew, Vincent didn’t have an upcoming disciplinary inquiry to worry about.

He tugged at his seminarian robes, plucking at a stray thread as he thought about it. “Maybe,” he finally said, “but that’s not really it. I can take or leave the dance and the club demonstrations – they’re fun, I guess, and it’s good to see everyone working hard, but-” He cut off with a frown, as if he was searching for the best way to describe it. “I’m pretty comfortable at the Academy,” he said, “and – with all the parents and government people and everyone else who’s come to the school-” He shrugged, cutting himself off. “I don’t know, it’s like – we’re all sheep in a pen or something, being judged by how fluffy our wool is.”

Loria gave him an amused look. “The fluffiness of our wool?” What an odd analogy. He shrugged, embarrassed, and she found herself laughing. “I understand what you’re saying, though. It’s like we’re on display – the scrutiny feels pretty ugly, doesn’t it?” Even her father’s speech at the opening ceremony had compared them to works of art – it wasn’t the point of the speech, she knew, but it spoke to how Vincent felt. “Some people like it, I think.”

“Maybe,” Vincent said, “but – I don’t know, I always get confused when I’m being watched.” She gave him a questioning look, and he continued. “When I’m being observed, I can’t decide if the things I’m doing are really my actions, or if I’m changing my behavior for whoever’s watching me.” He frowned like he was struggling to put the thoughts to words and eventually shook his head. “What do you think?”

Loria looked around the room. One girl had planted herself in front of the chalkboard. She was sketching a picture, a woman gracefully posed at a harp with a landscape behind her. The girl was a skilled artist, and it was clear that the group watching her were quite impressed. Loria wondered what picture she might have drawn if no one else was in the room. “I think there’s something thoughtful in those feelings,” she said, turning back to Vincent, “but I can’t decide if I feel the same way.” Certainly, she liked it when she was able to put her best foot forward to a crowd, but it wasn’t the most important thing. When she won a spar in her PMT class or aced an exam, it was for her, not the teachers giving her grades. A big reason she’d joined the Courier college was to get away from the constant scrutiny of her family connections.

Vincent looked at her for a moment with a frown on his face. Whatever he was thinking, he eventually decided to change the topic. “How was the dueling tournament yesterday?”

“It was-” she started, “well, I qualified for the second day.”

He smiled. “That’s wonderful. How do you think you’ll do today?”

“That’s a good question,” she said, “the stubborn part of me wants to declare I’ll win the whole thing, but the reasonable part says I’ll be happy if I manage to cinch one or two wins.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “And which part of you is the one in charge?”

She hummed a moment. “I guess that depends on how I well I fight today.”

***

Morning classes came and went, and by the time lunch arrived, Loria was nearly jumping her way back to the dorm in anxiousness. It was a different kind of feeling than she’d had the day before, not so much dread as an eager nervousness. She spotted Jenna and Penny on one of the benches outside their dorm, giving them a wave as she walked over.

“Where’s Nym?” Jenna asked as she made room for Loria between her and Penny.

“Off to talk to her date, I think.” The girl, Tia, had dragged Nym away after their PMT class to negotiate some details of their Harvest Dance plans. Loria had never met Tia before, but Nym seemed happy enough to have been asked, and that was all that was important to Loria.

Penny frowned. “I wonder if she’ll drag Tia to the big dinner before the dance.”

“It’d be some more company,” Jenna said with a sigh, “Cliff told me, in no uncertain terms, that he had better things to do than attend a dinner full of ‘stuffy upper-crusters who never did a day of honest work in their lives’. When I reminded him that my parents were going, he smiled sweetly and said he was talking about everyone else, not them.” Loria snorted. That sounded like Cliff alright, though she couldn’t really imagine him smiling sweetly. Jenna smirked her way, but a sudden curious expression came on her face. “What about you, Loria? Are you coming to the dinner?”

“I’m more curious if you have a date,” Penny interjected.

“No,” Loria said, “to both questions.” Both girls got a sort of conflicted look on their face, but before they could press her further, their attention was pulled to a group of half a dozen cadets coming towards the dorm. There were a couple she recognized from the dueling club, and leading the bunch was Tyburn – the third-year who’d won the dueling tournament for the last two years, and who she’d dueled the day before.

The trio of Apprentice Couriers watched the cadets’ approach, sharing a silent conversation – far as Loria could tell by the looks on Jenna and Penny’s faces, neither of them had any idea why the cadets were coming to the Courier dorm.

Someone in the group pointed their way, and a moment later the cadets were in front of them. “Loria,” Tyburn said, “Good – you’re here. Do you – uh, could we speak for a moment?”

Penny took a sharp inhale of breath, and Jenna prodded Loria’s side with an elbow, but she just nodded, rising to her feet and following behind Tyburn. The gossipy mutters of the other students followed her, and even when they’d walked far enough that she couldn’t hear the whispers, she could still feel their eyes watching her.

“Well, Loria,” Tyburn said, stepping a little closer than she was really comfortable with and fixing her with a sincere, intense stare, “I would be honored if you would be my date to the Harvest Dance.”

Loria sighed – just as she’d expected. “No.”

Tyburn blinked. “Oh – I’m sorry, I forgot to check – do you already have a date?”

“I don’t,” Loria said with a shake of her head.

“Oh – I, uh – I see, but-”

Loria gave the cadet an irritated look. “Tyburn, why do you want me to be your date? We’ve hardly even spoken to each other.”

He had a sudden flustered look on his face, and she almost felt bad for probing, but he regained his composure quickly. “That’s true, but – well, when we dueled yesterday, I was struck by your elegance and skill. I was hoping we might use the dance as an opportunity to form a connection.” He forced a smile. “You must understand how events like these work – it’s not unheard of for strangers to attend together.”

“That may be true for some, but not for me,” Loria said, “I’m sorry Tyburn, I hope you are able to find another date by tomorrow.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, but eventually he nodded. “Right, of course. Thank you for giving me a moment of your time.” He started to turn away, but stopped, looking back at her. “Oh – good luck in the tournament today, by the way. I was being serious when I said your strength struck me. I hope you can make a good showing of yourself today as well.”

Well, at least he was gracious in the face of rejection. “Thank you,” Loria said, “and good luck to you, too.”

He grinned. “Oh don’t worry about that. You’ve fired me up here – can’t allow myself to lose, or you might think you made the right choice by rejecting me.” Tyburn gave her a friendly wave before turning and walking away.

On her way back to the bench, Loria did her best to ignore the cadets, but she still caught a few ugly looks. That was something she’d noticed over the week – no one took it well when their friend was rejected.

“Well?” Jenna said, poking a hand under Loria’s elbow.

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“He asked me to the Dance.”

“And?” Penny added eagerly.

“I turned him down.”

“You – why?” Penny said, “he’s – well, I think he’s handsome, and isn’t he the one who-”

“Won the dueling tournament the last two years, yes – and I believe he’s at the top of his cadet class,” Jenna said, “but let’s let Loria explain – though I’ll say I’m nearly as surprised as Penny.”

Loria looked between her two friends, letting out a long sigh. “Tyburn seems like a fine man,” she finally said, “but I don’t know him.” She paused, and Jenna looked like she was about to say something. “He’s the fifth person to ask me to be their date this week.”

“Fifth?” Penny cried.

Loria nodded. “Fifth. All cadets, too, and none who I know. I think they all just want to get into my father’s good graces.”

Jenna made a noise of understanding. “So that’s how it is – you don’t like someone going after you just for the favor of the Fireshell General.”

“Well, no-”

“So we’ve got to find you someone who doesn’t care about your father,” Penny said with a thoughtful expression, “How about Thalos? You already know him pretty well, right?”

“Oh,” Jenna said, “good idea – he doesn’t have a date, either. Or at least that’s what Cliff said.”

“Stop, please,” Loria said breathlessly, “first off – I am not looking for the date.” She turned to Jenna. “At the moment, it’s really not at the top of my lsit of priorities, or have you forgotten the second half of the tournament is this afternoon?” Jenna shrugged, and Loria continued. “And secondly, I’m not going to ask Thalos to the dance. He is a member of team B, after all – that would be unprofessional.”

“Can you imagine the drama?” Jenna said with an eager expression. Loria glared at her, and she broke out in a laugh. “Relax, Loria, we’re just teasing you. I know you’re not looking for a date – if you were, you’re not the type to wait around for them to come to you.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” Penny said with a frown, “I think they’d make a good couple. Loria’s all serious and upright, and Thalos is all quiet and brooding – it works, somehow.” Jenna’s face turned contemplative, but Loria’d had enough.

She let out an exasperated sigh, rising to her feet. “Feel free to discuss it all you want, I’m going to eat lunch.”

***

One of the first things Loria learned about fighting was that you can’t think too much. Practice was the time for thought – what’s the best move? What are the holes in their defense? When is the best time to push an advantage? By thinking about these things in practice, she could build up the instincts so she didn’t have to in a real fight. And so when things got serious, she could just act.

It was a stroke of luck that her opponent fought with a quarterstaff. With her hours of sparring with Nym, she was more experienced dealing with that weapon than almost any other. But her opponent was faster than Nym, and it was all Loria could do to keep up.

She shot out a few quick stabs that he slid off his staff, and she barely got the butt of her spear up to catch his twirling reply. She took a leap backwards, heaving a breath before she slid towards him, bouncing the haft of her spear off his staff and feeding the momentum into a swing towards his legs.

He jumped over the attack, but she managed to pull her weapon back before he pinned it underfoot. There was a moment of peace and someone in the crowd yelled something – she hardly heard it, blinking sweat from her eyes and glaring across the ring. He was too fast for her to land a solid hit – she knew it, instinctively. So when he dashed towards her, it was those same instincts that told her to let him slip into her guard.

Her elbow caught him on the temple just as he was bringing his staff into her knee. She let out an angry yelp and went down, and he clattered to the ground beside her. Dragging herself back to her feet wasn’t easy on one leg, but her opponent was out cold, so her rise was greeted with a chorus of applause.

The first match was done, and it was her win.

***

Her spear was a blur. The medics had patched her knee up between fights, and she was thankful for it as she pressed the cadet backwards. The other girl had a shield and a sword, but without reach, Loria had control of the fight.

Loria wasn’t trying to hit the girl, not really. She took a step forward, and then another. The shock of each blow rattled down her arms, but the repeated sound of spear on shield was drowned out by the crowd that had formed around the ring.

The other girl was scowling past her shield, looking for any gap in Loria’s assault, but there were none – at least, none that the girl could seize on the backfoot. So Loria pressed forward, step by step, shouting with each stab of her spear.

Suddenly, she stopped, taking a step back and shifting the spear to one hand. For a moment, her opponent looked confused. Then, her eyebrows went up and she looked at the ground. She yelled a swear, but Loria was probably the only one who heard it over the roar of cheers. The cadet had retreated too far, stepping out of the ring and disqualifying herself.

Two fights, two wins.

***

The first round of the bracket had thirty-two fights fought in ten rings. The second, sixteen in eight. Now they were down to four rings, and the crowds had swelled in turn. A tremor found its way down one arm, and her spear shook in her hands. She was nervous, but not because of the crowd.

Normally, she thought of Percy as a thoughtful, quiet man. She knew he was a skilled medic, and, according to Jenna, the reason Team A didn’t spiral into conflict every week was his thoughtfulness. Put him in a ring, and everything she knew about him was turned on its head.

Percy was an extremely skilled brawler, even by the loftiest standards. He didn’t fight with a conventional weapon, instead favoring a pair of gauntlets with guards that extended down his wrists. It was her only avenue for victory – stay out of reach and prod at him until something stuck. Normally, it would be a sound strategy, but she knew it was the same strategy everyone else had used against him. Yet here they were, deep into the bracket, and Percy had yet to take a single solid hit.

The supervisor called for quiet, and a few folk screamed out last-second words of encouragement. She thought she heard Penny’s voice. Her friend very well could have been sending her encouragement towards Percy, but Loria felt a little better nonetheless. All she could do was give it her best and hope to find a bit of weakness no one yet had.

Another call for quiet, and the countdown started. Three. Two. One. Start.

Percy instantly leapt towards her with explosive speed, but she’d been expecting that. She dashed to the side, skirting the edge of the ring, spear in front of her. He twisted his route in her direction, his wrists coming up to block as she shifted forward on her feet to strike. The first stab, Percy caught on his wrist-guard. The second, he sidestepped, and when she stabbed a third time, he grinned. Her eyes widened as he caught her spear under one arm, trapping it. He grabbed the haft with his free hand and jerked the weapon to the side. Loria didn’t lose her grip, but she was sent stumbling sideways. Before she could get her balance back, his fist caught her on the chin. Her face hit dirt, and she tasted blood. She tried to roll away, but two more heavy punches caught her in the torso, and the fight was over.

Percy got an arm around her shoulders, pulling her upright with an apologetic smile. She was blinking back tears – the dust in her eyes, nothing else. She’d lost.

***

There was a different kind of tension, watching a fight from the sidelines, but she was sweating nonetheless. From beside her, Jenna screamed some wordless encouragement to Percy. They were both watching with the other eliminated fighters, in what Jenna had dubbed ‘the losers’ corner’. Following Jenna’s lead, Loria shouted her own cheer Percy’s way, but their friend was probably to preoccupied to notice.

Tyburn was quick with his saber, very quick. It was something she wouldn’t have appreciated if she hadn’t fought him the day before, but he always managed to have his weapon right where you least expected it. Jenna had said something similar after the third-year cadet eliminated her in the quarterfinals. If Percy shared their feelings, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

He bounced Tyburn’s blade off his gauntlet, lunging forward to grab at the cadet’s shirt, but before he could, Tyburn was back and away, sliding into his next series of strikes. The two-time tournament champion had adopted the same strategy as everyone else to deal with Percy’s strength – the only difference was he was fast enough to actually pull it off.

The fight was both fast and slow – fast in that each attack was razor-sharp with needle precision, and slow in that they seemed to be evenly matched, and each flurry of strikes left them no closer to a conclusion. Percy took the occasional glancing blow, but none that seemed to wind him at all. On the other side, Tyburn had to know that if Percy got close enough, he’d end the fight in an instant.

They grappled for advantage like this for a long minute, and with each second, the tension in the crowd was ratcheted up further. At some point, Loria started to hold her breath, but then her eyes caught something in the fight, and she exhaled. At the same time, Jenna swore quietly beside her. She’d seen it too – Percy was getting tired, but Tyburn wasn’t slowing.

It was a stumble that did Percy in. He tripped on something – a rock, maybe, or his own exhaustion – and Tyburn wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. Before his balance was back, the repeat champion struck Percy on the thigh, in the ribs, and across the cheek. The crowd exploded into cheers, and a moment later, Percy was on the ground, Tyburn’s saber pressed under his chin.

***

“You were so close,” Deb cried, her arms crossed angrily in front of her, “one hit – just one hit and you would have put him on his butt.”

Percy gave an exhausted laugh. “Maybe, but he was too quick. As soon as the fight started, I knew I’d have to get lucky to win.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t.”

Deb glared at him, more upset by his loss than he was. “You tripped! He’s the one who got lucky!” Percy shrugged again, and she swatted his shoulder.

“Ah – do you think we could catch the end of the engineering club’s demonstration?” Nym said, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Jenna seemed to think she wouldn’t make it, and she ran off right after the fight,” Penny said.

“I wish she’d stuck around,” Percy said, “I wanted to congratulate her – losing in the quarterfinals, especially to someone like Tyburn, is impressive.” He blinked, turning towards Loria. “Ah – Loria, you too. I mean, I know, your father – um…” He trailed off, smiling awkwardly.

“I’m hungry,” Deb interjected suddenly, “dinner should be out in the dorm, right?”

Loria looked around, but everyone seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her. It had been like this since she’d lost – no one seemed to want to touch the subject. It seemed like they’d convinced themselves that she was on the brink of hysteria because her father and brother had both won the dueling tournament in their time as students, but she hadn’t. Honestly, she hadn’t even really thought about that until Jenna had started consoling her – she’d barely expected to make the bracket stage, so actually winning two duels was much better than she could have hoped. But, with the way everyone was treating her, she was starting to-

“Loria!” A voice called. They turned as a group to see Vincent, waving his hand as he came their way. He smiled around the group, nodding towards Nym – the three of them were in the same PMT class. “I just wanted to say, good job today!” he said. He turned towards Percy, smiling awkwardly. “Ah, you too, Percy.”

“Thank you,” Loria said, shrugging. “Though it seems like everyone was hoping I might perform a little bit better, considering my father and brother both won the tournament all three years they were at the Academy.”

Suddenly, none of her friends were looking at her except Vincent, who was frowning. “I didn’t realize you cared about that kind of thing,” he scratched at his head before adjusting his glasses, “I guess it’s a shame you didn’t win, but I thought you did great, either way.” He shrugged. “I was impressed, at least.”

She blinked. “Hey, Vincent, would you like to be my date to the Harvest Dance?” After a moment, she realized what she’d just asked. “If you don’t already have a date, of course.”

Penny made a noise, and Vincent’s eyes shot wide. After a moment, though, he was smiling again, nodding. “Sure, that sounds fun. Ah – only as friends, right?”

Loria laughed. “Right.”

He nodded again. “Okay, sure. We can talk about the specifics in Lieutenant Ulster’s class tomorrow.” There was a moment of silence before he suddenly jolted. “Oh – I forgot, I’ve got to meet – ah – someone for dinner tonight. I just wanted to congratulate you guys! I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved a hand, spinning around and jogging off.

When he was gone, Loria turned to find her friends just about gawking at her. “What?” she asked.

Penny shook her head. “I truly do not understand you, Loria.”

Loria frowned. “Well,” she finally said, “that’s why I asked Vincent to be my date, not you.” With a shrug, she started off towards the dorm again. “Now come on, let’s go eat. Especially you, Nym. We really should start making plans for the discipline inquiry tomorrow.” She probably should have warned Vincent about it before she asked him to be her date. After all, there was a chance that, by the time the dance started the next evening, team B would no longer be students of the Academy.