I returned to the academy sweaty and tired. This was seen as something imporper and low amongst the gifted and brilliant.

Pretty much from the beginning of my studies in the Academy, I had been a recluse, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I loathed many of these self-righteous and pompous mages. The older ones were most insufferable and arrogant, the first and second years’ were mostly tolerable, if not friendly. The antipathy was responded in kind, though, and I had no friends there, and only a few acquaintances.

It just wasn’t in fashion to speak to a blunt.

I had made peace with being called that behind my back, even though it stung every once in a while. But what had changed during the past few months, was a vague direction forming. I had passion for something, at last. Something I was good at, and something I enjoyed—fighting. I realized it was all I could think about lately.

Well, fighting and suppressing my feelings for Florencia. But what had struck my feet from under me was the relevation that I had not been as candid with my emotions as I thought I had been. Or at the very least, I had let my guard down at some point, and she had noticed a change in my behavior.

How long she knew about my feelings I feared to guess, and because I could not read her thoughts, nor did I want to—such violation was even beneath me, so I never could learn how much she truly knew. I probably would find out the truth tonight, and I began making myself ready.

I washed up under a warm stream of water—something that was common in Cappesand, and highly rare everywhere else but the most opulent locals. Then I grabbed my clean set of clothes that I had set aside for tonight. It was my best one—a deep woolen surcoat with a wide, white collar and a pair of polished leather boots. Sure, they were part of the Cappesand ceremonial attire, but they fit me well, so I wore them. They were leagues better than my canvas ones, which had begun to stink.

The last of my most expensive perfume oil—pine and toffee, Florencia’s favorite—I rubbed into my neck and face and hair. During the years in Bessou I had come to appreciate perfumed water. Its smell wasn’t as overbearing as simple perfume. It was more intimate. At least that’s what Florencia said one evening. She knew these things better than I did.

Setting all my insecurities over my appearance aside, I looked pretty damned alright. I might have overdone it with the boots, perhaps, but I looked rather decent for a change. Florencia would probably come with her Cappesand aspirant outfit, the tunic she wore everywhere. She had let that uniform get ragged and wrinkly lately. Something I suspected was deliberate. She was an expert in those tiny acts of rebellion that might go unnoticed.

Then I took from the pocket of my other coat the actual gift I had for her. It was her twentieth birthday, and I had to make it special. I was certain our paths would split before her thirtieth anniversary, so I saved up cuenos for an amulet in the shape of a fish.

It wasn’t the most intricate, or the most expensive piece of jewelry, but it was made from pure silver, with tiny golden eyes. It was an inside joke between Florencia and me, referring to that one time we tried to go fishing on the banks of the Thei, and all that could fail did. We returned to the Academy wet, tired, muddy and without any of our fishing gear, but it made for a fond memory.

Time passed, and it was close to evening.

Countless thoughts ran through my mind, and I managed to pay attention to none of them. I was nervous, so I decided to go downstairs and wait at the large balcony. There I leaned against the white stone balustrade, looking out at the city and pondering what might happen this upcoming night.

It was a clear and cloudless evening, and the first stars shone through the darkness, and the three-eyed Moon came into view from behind the Leden Mountains. Hadrus, Iscia and Hanuos, the three major Gods oversaw the world, reflecting the light of Ana. Or that’s what the priests said. How much truth these tales held I did not know.

On the balcony there were many first-year students around, all giddy and excited. They talked loudly, enjoying the evening, under the hard scrutiny of the fifth-year enforcers. One group were trying for a simple pyromancy spell on candles they had burning before them. The candle flame danced and twirled, reaching tall, and then fizzling out, only to be birthed again with a wave of a finger. I tried not looking, but the flame was mesmerizing.

“Oh, look at you, Jonas, dressed so fancily! I should’ve put on something nicer as well,” came a songlike voice from behind me.

“Wow,” I stuttered. Florencia hadn’t come in her worn and dull aspirant tunic. Far from that. She had made an effort greater than me. She wore a very well-fitting dress of dark purple and yellow, intricately intricately woven together to make up a checkered pattern.

It hugged her hips spectacularly, and had a cleavage that was modest, but utterly hypnotizing. She had her hair up tonight in a complicated braid twisted into a bun and held in place by a shimmering silvery pin. Her dark green eyes pierced mine, and her smile was as warm and inviting as in the morning. My heart stopped and words stuck in my throat.

She spun around once. “Do you like it?”

She waited for an answer, but I could not utter a word. So she simply grasped my arm tight and pressed herself against it. I felt her radiating warmth again, or it could have been my nervousness, or her emotional projection. Which ever it was, I found it hard to think or say anything.

“I take that as a compliment,” Florencia said as I almost walked into the wooden doorframe, instead of through the massive paned glass door.

“So, where are we going?”

I got back my ability to talk as we were heading down the immense stairs leading towards the main entrance. “It’s a surprise, but it’s right next to the lake.”

Florencia’s eyes brightened up; she loved the lake, and she liked huge sailing ships. So there we were, back in Bessou, not more than an hour after I had run from the gymnasium. She held onto my arm until we reached near the docks, talking about a trivial this or that. Not once did she mention anything about her day, or her masters. She probably hoped to push all of that as deep down as she could, to have an escape for just one evening. I hoped to give her that one evening free of those responsibilities.

We were walking on the seaport now. There were no more ships to be unloaded, but a silent buzz of couples, families and groups of friends walking around, talking and having fun. The sky was a hue of cloudless deep orange. The sounds of bells faintly ringing with the rhythm of the waves, and some seagulls here and there.

As I led Florencia closer to our destination, her eyes brightened even more. I think halfway she had an idea where I was taking her, but being this close, she knew for sure. I was taking her to one of the more pricey cafeterias in the harbor. The place I was leading us to was called “The Gilded Anchor” - a cafeteria owned by a wealthy proprietor all the way from Lottie, on the south-eastern border of Lienor. It was a place where wealthier citizens of the city came and spent their evenings. I also heard that they made delicious beef ragout. I had reserved a small table for two there, with a view of the lake and many ships, which were docked close and far.

One large sail ship, the three-masted carrack Thiesbe, had returned from its journey from Valden a few days ago, and was waiting to depart again in the next following days. Florencia always liked sail ships, and the large carrack anchored close to our table was the only one which visited Bessou with any regularity. It made frequent trips to the city Bawic in Valden, stopping by the many smaller coastal cities on the way there, and always bringing back fascinating goods.

And it was no coincidence that the Thiesbe was here. I had paid them to do so for an entire month’s worth of cuenos working for Arne. It wasn’t cheap, but I had no regrets when Florencia examined the ship obsessively when we passed it by.

We made our way to the Gilded Anchor. It was one of the more expensive places to dine in Bessou, and the customers here looked the part. A pleasant violin and harp tune played in the background; so suppressed that you could almost forget it’s there, but a wonderful melody if you focused on it. Inside was dim, with the tables illuminated by beads of light-glass, covered in a red-orange canvas shades.

A well-dressed server greeted us when we walked in, dressed in a deep blue dinner jacket. He called himself Rollodus, and he bowed before he took my coat. Then he sat us down at our table, right by the wide seaport walkway, busy with dozens of passerby, dressed in coats and dresses and capes and elegant robes. We were separated from the outside only by large glass windows so old that the world on the other side looked more rounded and odd-shaped.

After hungrily devouring both our appetizers and main course, Rollodus came by and served us with dessert, and filled our tall glasses with a pink rose wine again. It smelled of strawberries and a sharp note of alcohol.

We talked with Florencia during the meal; again about some trivial things. They passed out of memory as soon as we switched topics and our talk was pleasant. Rollodus was as polite and barely noticeable as I could have asked for. The glimmer in Florencia’s eyes and look of satisfaction was rewarding enough for me, but I could not remember the last time I was somewhere this delightful. It had been months since we went out on the town to do anything exciting.

Tonight Florencia could let loose, and that she did. After finishing our main course - their famed beef ragu - she started to really feel the tension flow out of her shoulders. She straightened in her seat, and a content smile rose to her lips.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“But enough about that. I don’t understand how you never tire of my endless complaining,” Florencia said, after she finished a glass of rose wine. It was her second one tonight. “I know you had lectures today, and I looked for you at lunchtime. So, what have you been doing today?” She said this in a teasing tone; joyous and lively.

“I worked a bit for Arne, and then-,” I stopped, pondering whether I should tell her about Enzo. Probably not, right?

“I bet you went fighting again, didn’t you?” she said. But this time, Florencia wasn’t angry. Instead, she looked at me with interest, without accusing me of acting stupid. There wasn’t any point in denying this; she would see through my lies immediately.

“I did,” I confessed boldly. “I worked for Arne until midday, and then sparred with Enzo for a few hours.”

“Who?”

“He’s the swordmaster where I go train. He teaches sword fighting of all kinds, and he’s very good. We sparred with him for a few hours, and then I came back to Cappesand.”

“It’s nice that one of us had a nice day,” she said without a hint of sarcasm, though she had every reason for it. “I have to accept that part of your life somehow. Even though I don’t like it, not one bit.”

“I know you don’t, but I’m careful. Like I said many times already.”

Florencia sighed, but not out of frustration this time.

“I guess I understand why you don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” I asked, with my curiosity piqued.

“You don’t get why I don’t like you fighting and getting hurt.”

“Of course I understand!” I said hastily, almost cutting her off. But she spoke so softly now, with an acceptance I had not seen before. At least not about my fighting. She adjusted her braided bun, piercing it with the silver pin again, and tucked some loose strands of her golden blonde hair behind her ear. All the while, her eyes were fixated on me.

“No, you don’t. But don’t worry, it’s fine. I was too subtle with it, anyway.”

Alright, she was right, as always. I did not understand what she was talking about.

“But this morning I got you thinking about it,” she said, this time in a playful tone. Like she switched her mood up on demand. “I tried being more explicit with you. I think it worked.”

“Uh,” I floundered. “I’m confused.”

While her words confused me somewhat, that was true, but I did begin to piece together the puzzle she was laying in front of me. Obviously, Florencia didn’t want to say what she was thinking. There was no fun there. But before I could make complete sense of it all, she changed topics again, to my great annoyance.

“Do you know master Canno asked me to stay late today as well?”

I opened my mouth and wanted to trace back to our previous topic, which was of more concern to me than whatever master Canno could’ve said. Florencia, however, suppressed my to-be reply with a hand wave, and continued: “Yeah, she said that it was ‘of the utmost importance’ that I stay and help her categorize her old letter correspondence with an old master. The old master who died some years back! And she needed me to reorganize them tonight! I can’t remember what she said, but she droned on and on about it. And you know what I told her?”

Before I could even reply, she quieted me again with a raised finger, which almost touched my lips. She did so deliberately, and smiled a victorious smile, but left me even more frustrated. But it was her evening, so I let her talk.

Florencia continued: “I told her I was going now, that I had a special evening planned. That it was my twentieth birthday, and it was important to me. She, of course, went on and on about duty, respect, obeying your elders. Which is especially rich coming from her, and the rumors about what she does in her spare time.”

“Rather where she spends them,” I squeezed in. There were some rumors that master Canno visits some rather extreme clubs on the far side of the lake. The eye of the law was more lax there, and the people had darker, more unusual tastes for entertainment.

“And you know what I did, Jonas? I told master Canno to go suck it! And that I might come by tomorrow after lunch. Or maybe I won’t.”

Florencia giggled nervously and looked up at me. It was almost like she waited for a reaffirming word that she did the right thing. But no! This was terrible! Instead of a reassuring word, my face fell and went white. The last piece of lemon cake on the tiny dessert fork stopped mid-air, and many shadowy ideas sprung to mind.

“Come on, Jonas. It’s fine,” Florencia said, and sighed that I was not as happy over her act of rebellion as she was. To be fair, it was a monumental move for her. She never acted like this before. If I wasn’t so shocked, I would have told her this. But I could not see how her insult could ever go over well.

Florencia was content, however, and was sure everything was under control. She wiped the corners of her mouth on the tablecloth and crossed her legs under the table, making sure to bump my thigh while she did so, and for far longer than it needed to.

“I’m still their favorite little pet project,” she said.

“They still think I’m going to make them all important and famous. Them! They’re old and fat and self-righteous, and can see nothing but their own egos! They’re lucky I’m not switching crafts,” Florencia said hotly, cheeks red and eyes lively green. I even saw a few small candles, purely there for a cozy ambience, flickered tall and wide.

“Or just dropping out,” she laughed then quickly, with a far-away look in her eyes. Absent-mindedly picking at her lower lip with her middle finger, deep in thought over something.

“I, uh, don’t think that’s wise,” I said slowly, trying to think quickly how to navigate this new development. I couldn’t let her switch crafts, nor, worst of all, drop out of Cappesand. Even I understood this was a monumentally silly idea.

I told her this: “Florencia, dropping out of Cappesand is a monumentally stupid idea!”

“Uh, yeah, I know!” she said in the most dismissive tone yet, and she has a rich repertoire of them. “But it’s nice to daydream about it sometimes. Let the frustration out, so to speak.”

I felt an immediate relief and breathed out loudly, releasing the built-up tension.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Jonas,” she said, again sensing my tense emotions. I seemed to carry them unguarded lately.

“Not lately,” Florencia said, as she interrupted my stray thought. She said this softly, though, almost too carefully. To gauge whether I understood her words. As she continued, her mood seemed to change even more. “You’ve always been emotional, Jonas. And easy to read, at least to me. You hide it well against others, but not against me.”

“Of course not against you. You’re great at everything, especially perceiving emotions.”

“No, I’m not, silly,” she said dismissively. “I’m good, but not great. Not in the way you think I am.”

I scoffed at that. There was no way I wanted to revisit that topic again. Least of all tonight.

“We won’t,” she caught them again. “I have other plans!”

Florencia seemed to read most of my thoughts tonight!

“Of course I can read your thoughts, Jonas, but only when you’re more emotional. You understand that’s rare, even for those with the gift?” she said. And instead of looking at me, she turned her head down, choosing instead to fold the tablecloth this way and that way. “Maybe it’s just that we have a special bond? Although your, uh, thoughts have been rather exciting lately.”

“Flo-” I called out in a whisper, but my mind blanked and no words could leave my lips.

“Can’t blame you, though. I, kind of, have been doing it on purpose. Just to see how you would react. But I agree, the evening with the nightgown was too much. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Our server, Rollodan, saved my depleted heart by hopping towards our table. Our plates were clean and glasses were empty. This was unacceptable in an establishment such as this, for perfect service was most important.

“Would you be interested in some coffee from Oade to finish your evening?” he asked, and bowed his head politely. While we were making up our mind, and I was reveling in the moment free of the newer revelations, Rollodan removed the leather-bound menu from our table.

“The coffee freshly arrived this morning, and is still very fragrant and rich. Perfect for an evening such as this. They say coffee from Oade is infused with richness and depth usually not found in other coffees from southern Stotor. Our customers very much enjoy them.”

The server was right. Coffee from Oade was, indeed, exquisite. Like he described, the flavor was rich with a hint of chocolate, and no bitterness. A very mellow taste, which fit the evening rather well, just as Rollodan said. I took those precious moments of silence, as we both sipped the hot drink in silence, to compose myself. I decided that, instead of succumbing to my insecurities, a more straightforward and blunt approach might help me better.

It was the same advice in fighting - the best defense is a good offence.

“Flo, your dress looks amazing,” I said then. I didn’t even hide just how much I was appreciating her wonderful and shapely curves hiding under the colorful garment.

This caught Florencia off guard for a change. She composed herself in mere seconds, though, and she smirked.

“How can you even notice my dress, if all you’re looking at are my tits?” she smirked and looked straight into my eyes, confronting my newly found confidence.

I coughed the aromatic coffee from Oade up my nose and wiped my nostrils with the tablecloth. Florencia, though, was unbothered if our temporary neighbors listened on to what she was saying. And in her eyes was a proud display of confidence I’ve never seen before. A confidence, but also a need, which I never knew existed. This time, though, she clearly projected it to me so I could unmistakingly feel it. And it was strong and deep.

“What has got into you today?” I whisper, half joking, half serious. And without meaning to, I accidentally glanced at her cleavage again. Only for a second! But instead of shying away, Florencia pushed her chest out a bit to tease me some more. It worked, and I coughed up some more coffee.

“I thought we were having fun?” Florencia smiled, and bat her eyelashes. She then sipped a few last gulps of the sugary coffee like she was innocent of all wrongdoings.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying this. But it’s so sudden that you caught me off guard,” I tried telling her calmly and in a composed manner. I’d wager that to some eavesdroppers would have disagreed, though.

“I’m being this direct, Jonas, because trying to play coy didn’t work on you. Like I said before. For months, I tried acting all sweet and flirty, hoping that you caught on,” Florencia said under her breath, her face reddish, but still holding eye contact, and the green in her eyes seemed deep and rich and bottomless. And instead of hiding her annoyance, she projected it right at me. There was a lot of it built up within her, and apparently it was all my fault.

“You’re the one being stubborn,” she said. This time she was the one half-joking, half-serious.

“Playing the role of my protector or whatever you assume yourself to be. How about instead, you get out of your head,” she poked my forehead, still irritated, but with a hint of playfulness emerging. “And notice other people! Especially if they’re acting differently. Especially if they’re trying to flirt with you.”

It was then I felt a sudden expanding of heat in my chest, and a ghostly finger tracing my lips. Florencia was looking right at me, right through my soul, it seemed like, and there was the hunger again, this time very sincere and unmistakably needy.

“Jonas, I think we should go now,” she said, now tracing the back of my hand with two fingers so very gently. I couldn’t even feel it, with my mind overfilled. “While I enjoy taking some of my frustrations out on you for being so thick and slow, I think we should continue this somewhere more private.”

It was with no grace or composure that I demanded for the check.

I paid for the dinner with my few remaining cuenos, spilling the change I received back on the wooden floorboards. Before I could even reach down and grab them, Florencia made her palm into a strained cup shape, and the six copper coins straightened themselves into a neat pile and shot up into my grip. They sat there, then, sizzling and buzzing with energy.

This was something which was not uncommon. It happened when telekinesis was used while having too much unreleased emotion. It left traces on the item you moved, most noticeably on crystals, but metals had that effect sometimes as well.

We hardly said anything as we rushed back towards the academy. The majestic Thiesbe, the unmoving evening sky, the brilliant stars. None of that mattered. We had to reach my dorm room, and fast. But the evening was colder now, and a stronger, sharper, wind picked up from north; a wind from the ever-present mountains. Feeling Florencia’s cool hands, I wrapped my coat around her shoulders and blew my breath over our interwoven fingers.

We continued to walk towards Cappesand again.