“Ah, those two.” I assume she’s referring to two more of Alana’s hallmates, Michael and Gabriel. The younger brother Michael, barely more than a boy, is the talented one. Talented enough to be sponsored by the Hall. Due to his age, they allowed his brother Gabriel, his only living relative to accompany him, the two sharing a room and an allowance between them.

I have no idea why my friend is keen to recruit the boys. Obviously, anyone the Hall has taken an interest in must be skilled but they never made much of an impression. Michael is a bit cowardly, especially in the face of authority. I can sympathize but my old fear was well-justified, we’re talking about royals after all, and quite narrow in scope.

The boy quakes in his boots at the first sign of trouble with someone of a ‘higher status’ than him. I can only imagine he somewhat warmed up to me because it’s easy to forget about my title and I’m the opposite of most highborn.

I wonder if he’ll even be able to hurt a noble brat should the need arise, for fear of the consequences.

His brother is different, but I wouldn’t call him better. I wouldn’t know what to call him. He hardly speaks and takes his role as his brother’s guardian quite seriously. That’s everything I know about him.

“We haven’t been rejected until we ask,” Alana says as she scans the crowd. I follow her as she moves off, the crowd thinning as we move toward the outskirts.

Our potential teammates are standing in a group off to the side. I’d think our mission to be a bust already if there weren’t nearly a dozen initiates standing huddled together, talking animatedly. Some of them, anyway.

I scan the group for the brothers. Michael is a reticent as I remember, standing at the side, his hand holding his arm tightly. His head is bowed, unruly brown hair falling into his face and obscuring his face further. No chance of accidentally meeting someone’s eyes like that. Everything about his posture screams ‘don’t look at me, nothing to see here’. Ugh, like a rat forced to walk among people, just waiting for the humans to realize what a pest it is and chase it away.

I’m being uncharitable, I know, but I clearly remember how he and his brother reacted during my trouble with the prince. Acted like they never knew me and didn’t want to. Again, I can understand the reaction. That doesn’t mean I’m going to forget that after an extremely long and trying day, I sat down with my supposed ‘friends’ that turned out to be no friends at all.

Alana would never have done that, but she’s a saint in the making. Comparing their actions to someone of far more flexible morality, I would never do that to her. It’s not even about protecting my future wife who I’m hoping is simply grappling with a severe case of denial. I wouldn’t abandon anyone, like that. Not even Nomad, the mysterious and possibly crazy, ex-bandit.

Still, Alana wants him so I’ll keep my small grudge in check.

Gabriel stands at his shoulder, a silent sentinel. He looks like he’s been taking to foundation well, his severely cropped hair and placid features combined with a noticeable bulk cutting an intimidating figure to most. As opposed to Samuel’s stalwart guard, he is more of a ghost, entirely unconcerned with the living besides the target of his haunting. He is unconcerned with going-ons around him, staring blankly at the sky. I know he's simply waiting for his brother to finish with the group.

I spot another familiar face in the group. The last of Alana’s hallmates and a personal pain, Abel.

Another talented young caster whose stay at the Hall has been sponsored. Not by the Hall but by a noble house in return for his future service. A weasel of a man, down to his thin hair, bloodless lips, and pinched features.

A firm believer in titles, the well-practiced ass-kisser loves attaching himself to anyone of status, leeching off their families glory and wielding their reputations as his own. First with one of the young lords from his patron family, the infamous Peter Potoculli. Again with Samuel, though I doubt the prince ever knew his name.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Both attempts failed with the downfall of his prospective masters.

Needless to say, we don’t get along.

I can’t say the same for the rest of the group. Abel is one of the more animated speakers, unsurprisingly. He loves the sound of his own voice. I can’t help but pick up their topic of conversation and it makes me frown.

Unscrupulous bastards. Don’t they know proper scheming should be done in just as unscrupulous places? Not out in the open, in broad daylight no less. Do they think so little of the Hall? I’m offended on behalf of all people with good sense. They aren’t even whispering for saints’ sake!

It isn’t long before we’re noticed, the group pausing in their heated debate to look up. Abel sees Alana and Marthe first. He frowns, though it isn’t exactly unfriendly. Then his gaze moves to me. There’s a moment of furrowed brows as he fails to recognize my changed appearance but I see his brain tumbling, trying to form the connection. It doesn’t take long, I don’t look so different. His eyes widen with recognition. Then he sneers.

“Lou.”

“What, no title? You’re always preaching about how nobles need to be shown proper respect.”’

“You may hold a title but you are far from noble.” You’re right, lucky bastard. If I were like the people you admire, you’d have paid for that comment. He turns to Alana. “I see you haven’t taken my advice.”

“Lou is my friend. It’s unfortunate the two of you don’t get along but from my view, that is more a result of your actions than hers.”

Aw, thanks.

He scoffs. Recognizing a sturdy wall, he moves on to Marthe. “And you? She’s made her bed with hat disgusting pervert but I hardly expected you to willingly share their company.”

“Nobles may be bastards but that doesn’t mean common bastards don’t exist.” She turns away from him with a scoff, glaring at the brothers silently watching our standoff; Michael with wide, panicked eyes, Gabriel with his usual indifference. “Oi! You two, join our team.”

Wow. Her powers of persuasion are legendary.

“I don’t think so,” Abel says quickly. “The two of them already have a team.”

“Why are you speaking for them?” Alana says. She looks toward the brothers as well. “Michael, Gabriel. Good to see you. Are you doing well?”

Michael stiffens as several gazes turn to him. His brother lays a steadying hand on his shoulder which seems to steady him, the boy letting out a deep breath. His gaze is still shifty but he at least meets her eyes for a moment. “Hey, Alana. I’m good. Um, Abel’s right. I already have a team…sorry.”

“So?” Marthe says. “You should leave that team and join ours. We’re better.”

“The arrogance!” Abel snaps. “You’ve been rejected. Are you going to browbeat the boy until he says yes? Or perhaps you’ll have your creature twists his thoughts until he’s your willing slave.”

I look over my shoulder at Geneva, my silent companion playing her demure role. At his accusation, she shuffles behind me like a little girl hiding behind her mother’s legs to escape scary strangers.

“You still haven’t learned to watch your words,” Alana chastises him. “Michael and Gabriel have the right to decide for themselves. We are simply making them an offer. They can listen and decide for themselves.”

“This is my business as well as you’re attempting to poach members of my team.”

“Looks like you’ve got members to spare,” Marthe scoffs.

“We—”

“They don’t,” I say, cutting him off. I step forward, making sure they’re all paying attention to me. “They’re all on one team, so to speak. Their plan to ace the qualifiers.”

Shoulders tense and curses slip past tightly pressed lips as I flash them a mocking smile. Really? What did you expect, sharing the dirty details in the open? Whispers can’t protect you.

“You see, they’re all going to work together. Ten bodies are better than five, aren’t they? And twenty are better still, though the two leaders there aren’t wholly convinced just yet.” I point them out, making the two young men jump.

“They’re going to work together to make sure the instructors see them in the best light. Our performances are being evaluated, each caster on their own merit. Sounds fair until you consider they might get stomped by someone far stronger with having a chance to show what they’re capable of. Perfectly capable casters failing their qualifiers due to bad fortune. So, why not work together to give everyone a fair chance?” At least, that’s how Abel is spinning it.

My smile widens as Abel scowls. The rest of his compatriots are uncomfortable having their scheme exposed but as the ringleader, he’s livid. “It’s not against the rules,” he says. “We’re putting on an exhibition. Then it stands to reason that we should give each other a proper chance to show our best selves. This entire test is about cooperation, is it not?”

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, coward,” Marthe snaps. “What?” she sneers when he glares at her. “This is all because you’re scared someone better than you is going to embarrass you. Weakling.”

“While her tone could use some work, her words are correct,” Alana adds with a steely voice. Oh, my future is not happy at the implication of unfair conduct. “You do not need to go against the letter of rules to go against their spirit. Otherwise, you would be standing before the whole of the initiates rather than enticing the weak-will with whispers. Shameful.”