24. Chapter 24 The Dining Hall Reckoning
The coffee was even worse than usual.
Lucien sat at their table near the east windows with his hands around a cup that the kitchen had filled with what it called coffee and what three centuries of experience called warm brown water.
Morning light came through the glass in generous swathes and lay across the wood.
Tesslyn sat across from him with her notebook open and her quill scribbling in the margins.
Liora sat beside him, close, her knee pressed against his under the table, her tail hanging behind the bench in a slow arc.
The dining hall carried a different sound this morning.
Valt Krenning's corner of the room was quiet.
The cluster of noble students who normally filled the table near the serving line sat with gaps between them, their voices low, their posture careful.
The loudest voice in their section was gone.
The gap was visible, and the students who remained were still figuring out how to arrange themselves around it.
Corvath sat on the table between Lucien's plate and Tesslyn's notebook, his front paws together, his tail hanging off the edge. He'd positioned with the territorial precision of a creature who believed tables existed primarily for cats and secondarily for food.
"You haven't touched the eggs," Tesslyn said to Lucien. She'd been watching him not eat with the quiet concern she gave things she couldn't fix by studying harder.
"The eggs are fine. The coffee is the problem."
"You say that every morning."
"It's true every morning. You’d think a prestigious academy such as this could brew a damn decent pot of coffee.”
She tipped her head and smiled. It was small and warm and her green eyes held his for a second before she went back to her notes. A strand of blonde hair came loose and fell across her cheek.
Lucien looked at her. Something about the light or the angle made him look longer than he usually did.
Her jaw softened when she smiled, and the fine bone structure caught the morning sun in a way he hadn't noticed before.
She'd settled into herself over these weeks, the anxiety gone, replaced by a composure that looked like it had always been there.
Wulden was late.
He arrived at the table with his bag half-open and his collar sitting wrong, the left side folded under in a way that suggested he'd dressed in the dark or in a hurry or both.
He dropped onto the bench beside Tesslyn and put his plate down with the careful placement of a man who knew everyone was looking at him.
"Morning," he said.
"Good morning," Lucien said. "Late night?"
Wulden picked up his fork. "I was studying."
"Studying? Is that what dwarves call it these days?”
"Yes, studying with books. In a room. The way studying works." He cut a piece of sausage with unnecessary precision. "Hanna had notes from Tamsin's practical on compound binding that I needed for the Gallen assignment. She walked me through the notation."
"Until what time?"
"A reasonable time."
Liora leaned forward. Her gold eyes had the sharpness they got when a target presented itself. "What time did you get back to the room last night? Lucien was already asleep, I’m sure.”
"I don't know. Late. It was a lot of notation."
"Did she walk you through the notation in the common room or in her room?" Liora pressed.
"The common room." Wulden's ears had gone pink. "There were other people there. At the beginning."
"At the beginning," Tesslyn said. She said it to her notebook.
"Stop it. All of you. It was compound binding notation and it took a long time because compound binding is complicated."
"Did she lend you another pen?" Corvath asked from beside the salt. He didn't open his eyes.
Wulden pointed his fork at the cat. "She lent me a reference guide. A leather one. Which I will return today."
"A leather reference guide," Liora said. "That sounds expensive. She must think very highly of your compound binding skills."
"She thinks highly of notation accuracy, which is a perfectly normal thing for a study partner to think."
"You're holding the fork like it personally wronged you," Lucien said.
Wulden looked at his fork. His grip had gone white-knuckled. He set it down and picked up his cup instead, drinking the coffee without commenting on its quality, which told Lucien everything about how badly he wanted the conversation to change direction.
Tesslyn's shoulders were shaking. She kept her eyes on her notes and said nothing.
"Ask her to lunch," Lucien said. He said it the same way he'd said it weeks ago, easy, no pressure. The offer kept coming back. Wulden kept not taking it.
"I'll think about it." Wulden said it to the coffee.
"That's what you said last time," Corvath observed. "And the time before that. The pattern suggests that thinking about it is the entirety of the strategy. One must modify it when things aren’t working.”
Wulden looked at the cat. "Thank you for your input."
"You're welcome. I'm very helpful."
The table settled. Wulden started eating. Tesslyn wrote something in her notebook and pushed the quill back into her hair. Liora stole a piece of bread from Lucien's plate without asking and tore it in half.
"I wanted to ask you something," Tesslyn said.
She set her quill down and looked at Lucien, and the shift in her voice settled the table.
"Yesterday, when I healed Corvath. The mana moved on its own.
I put my hand on the break and it went where it needed to go without me building anything.
No construct, no framework, no anchoring. It just went."
"That's raw channeling," Lucien said. "The mana found the damage and addressed it directly because your affinity knew what to do. You didn't need a framework because your instinct was the framework."
"But that's not how Kess teaches it. She says construct first, channel second. Every time."
"Kess teaches combat application. She's right for what she's teaching.
What you did was different. Your healing affinity read the injury and responded before your conscious mind had time to build a structure.
That's not a failure of technique. That's talent. Not everything can be taught. Some students can just do it.”
Tesslyn turned the words over. Her fingers rested on her notebook, still, and her green eyes held a focus that was aimed inward.
"Gallen said something similar. About the permeable lattice in Wards. She said I did it sideways with none of the theory."
"Gallen was right. You did. And yesterday you healed a broken bone in less than ten seconds with no preparation and no training. You should understand how exceptional that is, Tesslyn. Let’s work together in study hall and try to strengthen your skills.
I’m happy to help. I may have a broken bone one day. ”
Color rose in her cheeks. She looked down at her hands.
"Thank you, I’d like that," she said quietly, the words aimed at him and nobody else.
"Speaking of yesterday's excitement," Corvath said. He'd timed it perfectly, the bastard. "Liora, you should ask Lucien about his special visitor after hours last night."
The table went quiet.
Tesslyn stopped moving. Wulden looked up from his plate. Liora's hand, which had been reaching for Lucien's cup, changed course and landed flat on the table. Her gold eyes locked onto Lucien with the focus of a woman who had just been handed a gift.
"Special visitor," she said. The words came out level and bright.
Corvath's expression was perfectly blank. He'd thrown the grenade and had no intention of taking cover.
"Thank you, Corvath," Lucien said. "That was well timed and subtle."
"I live to serve."
Liora turned her full attention to Lucien. She put her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table, the posture she adopted when she was about to enjoy herself thoroughly. "Tell me about this visitor."
"Renvaya came by the room last night. She had information about Valt's suspension."
"After hours?"
"Yes."
"At your dorm room."
"Yes."
"What was she wearing?"
Lucien paused. "That's relevant?"
"Everything's relevant. What was she wearing?"
"A sundress. Green, with a floral pattern."
Liora's eyebrows rose. The amusement on her face sharpened into something analytical and delighted at the same time. "A sundress. The woman who wears buttoned faculty robes to eat lunch came to your room in the evening wearing a sundress."
"She was off duty. You don’t think she changes attire on occasion?"
"Nobody wears a sundress to deliver administrative news." Liora sat up straighter. Her tail tapped the bench behind her once. "What else happened?"
Lucien gave it to her straight. Renvaya had delivered the suspension verdict, addressed his crimson eye accumulation, warned him about his threat. He gave her the professional part first.
"And after the professional part?" Liora asked. She'd been listening with the patient focus she gave information she intended to use. "She left?"
"She stayed a bit longer.”
"Of course she did." Liora's mouth curved. "Tell me about the staying part."
"She said she wasn't sure her barrier would have held against me. She said she was afraid in the corridor. She told me I stopped because she asked, not because of the shield or the consequences."
Liora processed that. She searched his face, reading what he'd left out.
"And you said?"
"I told her that what she says matters a great deal to me."
Liora held his gaze for a moment. Then the corner of her mouth lifted. "That's a hell of a line, Lucien."
"It wasn't a line. It was the truth."
"I know. That's what makes it a hell of a line." She picked up her cup and drank, taking her time with it, letting the information settle. "Did she say anything when she left?"
"She said, 'That's not why I came.'"
Liora set the cup down. Her mouth curved, and her eyes went bright with something that wasn't jealousy. It was closer to admiration.