Chapter 24 #2
At the rail, Hale’s chin dipped once.
Barely.
It was the closest thing to praise he had ever given me.
Annoyingly, it helped.
Marcus expected me to fail.
I didn’t.
That was the first mistake anyone in the room had made all morning.
His recovery lagged.
Hale’s fifth form wanted me to step left.
But the old part of me, the part that had learned in alleys and back rooms and kitchens, went lower instead.
I ducked under his recovery, caught the end of his stave with mine, and turned my whole body into the space his confidence had left open.
It wasn’t pretty.
It wasn’t an official form.
But it worked.
Marcus went down hard enough that sand jumped at his shoulder.
I followed because every sensible part of me knew better than to admire my own luck before the other person stopped moving.
My stave came across his chest.
He froze.
So did the ring.
For three breaths, no one spoke.
Then Aldric said:
“Pinned.”
Marcus stared up at me.
He looked less angry than confused.
I felt almost sorry for him.
I stepped back and Marcus got to his feet.
A thin line of blood ran from the corner of my mouth to my chin. I had not felt the cut happen. His stave must have caught me on the recovery.
Aldric saw the blood.
So did Caspian.
I knew because the Pull sharpened so quickly I nearly turned toward him.
Aldric came to the center line.
“Verita,” he said. “You used the fifth form.”
“Was I not supposed to?”
“You used the fifth form,” he repeated, “and then you did something else entirely.”
Everyone in the room was listening.
That was the problem with public correction. Everyone took notes, even when they were silent.
“Yes,” I said.
“Why?”
Because Marcus was bigger.
Because the form would have made me survive the strike but lose the fight.
Because no one had ever taught me the luxury of doing things beautifully before doing them effectively.
“Because he left space,” I said.
Aldric’s mouth twitched.
“Congratulations on Ring One, Verita.”
Behind the railing, the first-years shifted.
So Ring One meant something.
Another thing no one had explained until after it happened.
Marcus looked at me again and shook his head.
At the railing, Caspian’s hand stayed on the wood, clenching too tight.
The Pull didn’t move toward him.
It waited.
Small favors.
The assessment continued.
I stood at the wall with blood drying at my chin and sand in my shoes. The rest of the pairings blurred into strikes and blocks and Aldric’s voice saying words I no longer cared about.
I had made it through my match. That was all that mattered.
When it ended, everyone filed out through the lower door and headed to lunch.
I didn’t go with the others to the dining hall.
I headed back to Room 114.
The corridor outside my room was empty.
It stayed that way for exactly three seconds after I reached my door.
“Astra.”
I stopped with my hand on the handle and turned around.
Caspian stood at the far end of the hall.
Apparently he had followed without making a sound. Which was infuriating.
“You’re developing a talent for appearing where you have not been invited,” I said.
“Can I come in?”
I had to grind my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping.
Caspian Ashford, asking permission.
The morning had officially become ridiculous.
I opened the door, stepped inside, then looked back at him over my shoulder.
“You may stand in the doorway.”
He came close enough to stand outside the threshold and no closer.
The restraint should not have affected me.
Naturally, it did.
The Pull tightened low in my ribs, and irritation came up fast to cover it.
His eyes went to the blood at my mouth.
“May I?”
“That depends what you are asking.”
His hand was already halfway to his pocket. He finished the movement slowly and took out a clean folded cloth.
“The cut,” he said.
I looked at the cloth. Then at him.
Caspian exhaled through his nose.
“I’m trying to be decent here, Astra.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s still a little unsettling.”
He unfolded the cloth. I could tell it was damp. He’d come prepared.
I stepped into the room, but stayed near the door.
Caspian didn’t cross the threshold.
He reached in.
I leaned forward.
It was ridiculous.
It was somehow worse than if he had walked in and taken over.
The cloth touched the corner of my mouth.
Cold and damp. Clean linen. His hand steady enough to pass for calm.
The lines on my wrist tightened beneath my sleeve.
He saw my breath catch.
I felt his do the same. Somehow. Through whatever magic it was that drew us together.
His thumb held the cloth at my chin. His other hand stayed at his side, curled once, then opened.
“Let me protect you,” he said.
I pulled back before the cloth could touch my mouth again.
“No.”
His hand lowered.
“Astra, I can help you. If you—”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I was raised for this.”
“For what? For a forced bond so you can stand between me and the world until no one can tell where I end and you begin?”
His hand lowered.
“That is not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant. Because you were parroting what you were told. It just sounded better in your head than it did when you said it out loud and I called you on it.”
For a moment, I thought he would argue.
I was shocked when he didn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally said, then folded the cloth. “I thought this would be simpler.”
“What would?”
He waved a hand. “This. You.”
My eyebrows went up. “That came out beautifully.”
He bit his lip then tried again. “I thought protecting you would be a duty. A position to hold. I know how to hold a position.”
The cloth folded tighter in his hand.
“I did not know I would care whether you hated me for it.”
“Congratulations,” I said. “That’s almost self-awareness.”
“I’m willing to practice that.”
He raised the cloth again. I glanced at it, then his face, and then nodded.
Caspian cleaned the last of the blood from my face.
The cloth lingered at my lower lip one second too long.
Neither of us pretended not to notice.
“You shouldn’t have come, Caspian,” I said.
“To the assessment?”
“To my door.”
“I know.”
He lowered the cloth.
The cut was clean.
My mouth was not. It tasted like marble.
Not with him standing there.
Not with the Pull between us and the doorframe under his hand and the whole school pretending walls were enough to keep people in their assigned places.
“Caspian?”
“Yes, Astra?”
My name did the same damage it had done the last time.
This time he knew it.
His gaze stayed on mine.
“Thank you,” I said.
He pocketed the cloth.
“I’m glad you won.”
“You sound almost surprised.”
“Not surprised.”
“No?”
He looked past me into the room, then back to my face.
“Relieved.”
I swallowed hard.
Apparently there were still things in the world capable of ambushing me.
Caspian stepped back from the threshold.
Then he turned and walked away before either of us could make the moment more dangerous than it already was.
I closed the door.
The Mark under my sleeve had not settled.
Juno’s small lie still held.