Mila’s neck hurt, but she could breathe again, and she needed to act. She seized Roxa’s hand and pulled for all she was worth. “Come on,” she hissed, “come with me, now!”

It was like pulling a ship by herself, on the docks. For a moment, Mila thought she wouldn’t be able to budge the taller girl, and then Roxa yielded to her. Mila knew better than to run in front of a predator, especially once blood was in the water. Still, they couldn’t very well stand their ground, not with the way things were going, not if Mila wanted to survive this term.

Mila led them both in a quick-walk, looking straight ahead. She smelled an ozone whiff of magic and knew Roxa was shielding their retreat. Good. At least the noble was good for something. Mila was furious.

She got them out of the courtyard and began taking left and right turns at random, hauling on Roxa’s arm. Her neck would probably have an interesting bruise soon. She didn’t dare look back at Roxa. Miraculously, they both held their tongues. Once she was certain they couldn’t be followed, she pulled them both into an empty cleaning supply closet and shut the door.

The darkness closed over them.

Silence, except for ragged breathing.

Roxa conjured a light that floated up and hovered above them. They were facing each other now. Mila looked up at her roommate.

“What a cunt,” Roxa said, tightly. She looked like at any moment she might start hissing and spitting like an angry cat. “How dare she. Are you—

“Am I what, exactly?” Mila exploded. “Am I hurt? Am I okay? Do you care? Does that even matter to you?”

Roxa gaped at her.

“What the fuck, Roxa! What were you thinking?”

“What—I was trying to protect—”

“Protect me?” It was almost funny. “If you’d wanted to protect me, all you had to do was act cool and polite. That would have been safer for me. I get called a mutt every day, Roxa, I don’t care. Instead you goaded her. In front of all her lackeys. Of course she would take it out on me. Then you bested her at sorcery and made her flinch and trip over herself. Publicly. While warning her not to assault me again! Think, Roxa.”

Mila watched her roommate’s protests die on her lips. She clung to Roxa’s gaze as if their eye contact were a wooden spar and she were drowning. She needed Roxa to understand, to see her.

“Do you see how fucked I am? Do you see how she has no choice but to assault me, demean me, use me to get back at you? Do you see how she will never stop hunting me? You made her look weak and foolish in public, and I paid the cost, and the cost will keep coming to me, Roxa, not to you.”

Mila buried her head in her hands and groaned as another thought hit her.

“Oh fuck, and those were Stormcroft seniors. They run our House! They can make my life hell in so many ways, yours too. This is bad, Roxa.”

Roxa bowed her head. There was a heavy silence. “Fuck,” she winced. “I’m an idiot.”

“Yep.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sorry.”

Mila was silent.

Roxa looked up. “If I go to her and grovel, publicly—”

“No, I know her type. She would just take that as an invitation to come harder. You can’t show weakness to sharks. The only hope is staying beneath their notice. Or making it too painful for them to bother with you.”

“Oh, I will make it painful.” There was a gleam in Roxa’s eyes as she bit these words out, and it took the edge off Mila’s bitterness, just a little.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You can’t, you know.” Mila had almost said won’t. As if a part of her needed to challenge Roxa’s willingness instead of her capacity, just to make sure. There was still a lot of bitterness, after all.

“Can’t what?”

“You can’t protect me all the time. And even if you could—” Mila closed her eyes. Even if you would. “—even if you could, she’s not the sort to get her own hands dirty. What, are you going to hex her every time a random boy calls me a mutt and pushes me down a stairwell?”

She said the last part as viciously as she could. She needed to be cold, to deny her own pain. If you feel no pain, they can’t hurt you. This is how you survive. This is how to be strong. She knew this, knew that she needed to deny Roxa’s help so that it would hurt less when Roxa’s help disappeared.

“You’re damn right I’ll hex her, every time. And I’ll kneecap whatever stupid goons she sends, as well.”

“Roxa…” There was a painful knot behind her heart, a knot whose name was You are alone here, completely alone, and Roxa is going to be a Countess, why should she stick by you, no matter what she claims now?

And yet...she so wanted to believe Roxa! And wasn’t she being a little unfair to her? Roxa had, after all, stuck by her when it would have been so much easier to just shrug and pretend to agree with Penelope. Of course, that would have been easier for Mila, too, but instead Roxa’s temper had flared and she had done the stupidest, bravest thing possible. And ironically, to Mila, didn’t that make her more trustworthy than doing the smarter thing would have? She could trust Roxa’s temper, after all, even though it made her act like an idiot. Right? Or was she letting a pretty girl fool her because she really was so lonely here, and, oh, her neck hurt.

“Okay. Well, we’ll think of something.” Roxa shrugged. “If not, I’ll kill her in a duel and hope my diplomatic immunity will outweigh her family’s clout.”

“Don’t joke about this, Roxa,” said Mila miserably. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Roxa responded evenly. “Though, I don’t blame you for not trusting my words.” She winced, looked down, then met Mila’s eyes again. “I have very much let you down. But now that I’ve thrown my only friend to the wolves with my fool temper, I will be throwing myself after her. Or rather, in front of her. As best I can.”

Silence. Mila’s heart swelled but she managed to keep her face neutral and her eyes locked on Roxa’s clear, green ones.

Roxa glanced away and shrugged. “And dueling accidents happen all the time.”

Mila was charmed, despite herself. “You’ll get expelled for sure.”

Making it all the way to Harmine only to be forced out was one of Mila’s worst fears. It occurred to her that it might be different for a Countess.

“You think I care about that?” Roxa scoffed. “You’re far more important. I’m going to have nightmares about hearing your breath get cut off like that. It was horrible.”

Mila tried to quip something lightly back, but her throat was all tight and when she opened her mouth she couldn’t stop the sob that came out and then she was crying and now she was clinging to Roxa, her whole body pressed against the taller girl, and Roxa’s strong arms were around her, and she was trembling like a leaf. Her fury was all gone, all spent, and she was just scared now, and feeling immensely grateful towards Roxa, so grateful and glad to have her as a friend.

She murmured this last part to Roxa, and Roxa squeezed her, hard, and there was no need to say anything else. Mila trembled into Roxa’s body for a long time. Longer than one might think a friend would, in fact.

Eventually, she looked up into Roxa’s green eyes. “So...milk-breath?” she asked, with a sniffle-laugh.

“She does. She is. Sour milk.”

“Ew.”

“I know! It’s these Yavanese with their herds of lowland milch cows. In the Duchy we suckle from the downy udders of goats, which never give a lady milk-breath. Much better for kissing.”

Mila rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight down her blush. She was suddenly aware of how close they were pressed together.

“Roxa, I—” she stopped herself.

Roxa raised a hand and—oh, now she was tucking a strand of dark hair behind Mila’s ear, the brush of those fingers eliciting a shiver. Roxa didn’t speak, just made a patient, wordless sound that clearly said ‘take your time, I will wait.’

Mila bit her lower lip. Roxa didn’t know. That was the heart of the reason Roxa shouldn’t kiss her, right now. Kissing could lead to other things, and Roxa might find she was a tea girl—kuffa, as they were known here—and then how would she react? Mila didn’t think she could survive the whiplash if Roxa’s closeness evaporated right now. Or far, far worse, if Roxa’s tenderness turned into active disgust. No. No, it was safer not to be kissed at all. At least for now.

Mila reluctantly disentangled herself from Roxa’s warmth and brushed down her skirt nervously.

“Um. We should. Probably. Go to class.”

Her cheeks felt hot. She knew she was mumbling. She was having difficulty meeting Roxa’s eyes all of a sudden, but she caught a glimpse of a knowing smirk, which only made her blush harder.

But her roommate only nodded. “There’s no one outside in the corridor. I’ve been keeping track. Still, it makes sense to leave separately, I think. Oh, one more thing.”

Roxa unwound a dark silk scarf from her own neck. She held it, looking at Mila for permission. Mila nodded gratefully and reached up to take it, but Roxa was already winding it gently around Mila’s slender neck, hiding the dark bruise.

Mila closed her eyes, feeling the soft brush, the firm, winding tug. Her lips parted slightly.

And then Roxa was tucking the end, and her hands dropped away. Mila opened her eyes to find Roxa smiling and making a gesture with her hand that said after you, my lady.

Mila, not trusting her own voice, made herself leave before she could dither any further.