Chapter 25 Tamsin
Tamsin
You’re not supposed to laugh when you lose a duel. You’re not supposed to find any mirth in your own failure. You’re supposed to hate yourself for a few days, then drag your sorry ass back to the training arena and figure out where you went wrong so you can do better in the next duel.
But as I yield to Samantha Chan and let her tug me to my feet, I can’t seem to do anything but laugh. I laugh until tears stream down my cheeks. Maybe it’s relief. Or maybe it’s simple hysteria, some product of the adrenaline no doubt ricocheting its way through my veins.
The crowd’s shock and adulation are a roar that surrounds us both. For a little while, Sam and I are in a world of our own, tucked behind walls made of pure noise, just her and I.
Our foreheads press together. The crowd disappears. The lights disappear.
It’s just Sam. And it’s just me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
I don’t need to ask her what for. I close my eyes. And finally, I say the words that I didn’t know how to make true until tonight: “I forgive you.”
Sam’s breath hitches against my skin. And for once, I don’t walk away. I don’t let go of her.
“Congratulations,” I whisper. My lips are close enough to hers to kiss. “You’re every bit as spectacular as I always figured you’d be.”
Sam laughs. She’s crying, too. But when she answers me, she’s still her same old characteristically blunt self. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.” She grins, scrubbing roughly at her eyes with the backs of her knuckles, heedless of the black eye blooming on one half of her face or the streaks of blood her fingers leave over the purpling skin. “I’m hoping that means you’ll be open to a rematch.”
I mirror her grin. I’ve never been more tired. I’ve never felt more alive. “You’d better count on it.”