7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Rafi assumed that was the last he’d hear of the subject of sparring with Viau, and possibly the last he’d ever speak to Viau unless he failed to solve his control problem before his next aedis.
That Viau had noted the nature of the problem was helpful, at least. It suggested that Rafi ought to find some new tools to manage it until he figured out how to stop it.
It also suggested that most of his instructors would be no good in that area, since it had taken someone as skilled with aer as Viau to even see the issue.
He considered consulting a mage, but that would take money he didn’t have.
A healer was the next best option, since they did use aer for purposes other than strengthening one’s own spirit or hopefully deflecting a sword just enough.
Or Viau, whom Rafi still suspected also used aer more than most did.
But that was trading one help from Viau for another, and Rafi wasn’t entirely certain where he stood with him.
Not that he needed to stand anywhere with him, or expected to, even if half of the academy students and one or two instructors seemed to think Viau was now a friend of his.
Friend with heat-related benefits, perhaps, but not anything as intimate as lovers.
Because the truth was, no matter how Rafi felt around Viau, they were at best somewhat friendly.
Viau was… well not polite. Not as polite as stories said—though, no, that wasn’t right.
Viau was incredibly polite to nearly everyone. It was Rafi he’d provoked.
But he’d liked the result so maybe that was how Viau was with those he was closer to.
Maybe he teased, and sparred hard enough to hurt on purpose, and said odd things.
Rafi didn’t know any poets or playwrights, but he’d heard tales about actors.
Perhaps in Viau’s circles full of brilliant artists and outsiders, one simply talked like that.
Rafi was not brilliant or an artist. He’d only attended a handful of plays, usually the feast day ones performed outside for anyone to watch. He was still battling poetry. He hadn’t even put up much of a fight with Viau.
Although he thought he could if given another chance.
Rafi shouldn’t worry about it so much but did anyway, usually at night before he fell asleep and there was no one to comment on the expression on his face. Thinking about Viau was an indulgence, but a free one, and harmless if he ignored his own embarrassment.
That was, until he was across from Katoh and Laure as they ate the midday meal, with Ferrin, another final-year, sitting next to him, and Ferrin suddenly jabbed Rafi hard in the ribs to make Rafi look up from his soup.
To see Viau at the end of their table.
He was in finery, as though he’d come from the capital, perhaps even the palace, although he had removed his gloves, and also the hat or cloak he might have worn if he had ridden.
One could walk into the capital from the academy, but anyone wealthy enough to keep a horse would ride to save time.
He was in the deep blue coat of linen and silk that he’d worn last summer, and not one of the thick, woolen coats he wore the rest of the year.
His shirt showed at his cuffs, clean and white and possibly embroidered at the hem, and again at his throat where he had unbuttoned the coat.
Rafi caught himself staring at the thin silver chain of a necklace and quickly raised his eyes.
He did his best to smooth any and all expressions from his face.
Viau wasn’t even looking at him, in any case.
He was nodding a greeting to Laure and Katoh and introducing himself.
Apparently, they had not exchanged names before.
Rafi didn’t squirm but very much wanted to. But that was merely one of the small embarrassments he’d have to suffer through.
He was in the same mended shirt and pants he was generally seen in, with his hair slipping free of its tie and a scrape on his cheek from when he’d tripped while running through a course two days ago and stumbled too close to a thorny hedge.
Viau’s attention, when it finally came to Rafi, went immediately to the slight line of red along Rafi’s cheekbone.
“I tripped,” Rafi heard himself explaining, and then sighed, a fool.
“You don’t seem one to trip often,” Viau answered, and what was there to say to something like that? It sounded like an instructor asking for the real culprit of some student prank, or demanding a student figure out the true reason they hadn’t succeeded with an assignment.
Viau had also told Rafi he was not an instructor.
Rafi finally shrugged, a bit stiff about it because the real reason was a combination of the fact that he’d been tired, and yet another mail delivery had passed without a letter from his family, and there had been some late-blooming spring flowers along the course path that had abruptly reminded him that he had sucked a love mark onto Viau’s shoulder, with Viau petting his hair and telling him what a sweet thing he was.
“Not often,” Rafi admitted, strained, “but enough.”
Why that should make Viau brighten was something to ponder when Rafi wasn’t staring at him with the summer sun in his face.
“My cousin is a spoiled creature,” Viau said, grinning playfully as if he wasn’t probably speaking of the king, “and resents me ‘having fun’ as he sees it while he is stuck at court, so he calls me back when he can. But I’m here again.
” He paused, and Rafi grew even hotter at the politely unspoken reference to his aedis, if that was what that was, issued in diplomatic court fashion.
“And, while helping the instructors takes up some of my time, I still find myself in need of my regular exercise. I wondered if you’d like to spar with me again?
Whenever it’s convenient for you, of course. ”
Every ear at every nearby table was likely turned toward them. Katoh was staring, not bothering to hide it. Rafi had no idea what Laure’s expression was because he couldn’t take his eyes off Viau.
“Of course.” Rafi was pleased that he didn’t stammer over the answer. “Though Guen wasn’t happy with us.”
Viau’s smile widened. A smile had never made Rafi’s heart thump before. This was going to become a problem, and Rafi already had one problem on his plate.
“Let me handle Guen,” Viau answered, still playful. “He’s really only concerned that we might accidentally hurt another student with our tomfoolery, which is reasonable. How fortunate, though, that we are not instructors and therefore need not be reasonable.”
Ferrin sighed.
Viau’s attention went to him at Rafi’s side and his smile froze. A moment, then he returned his focus to Rafi. “Find me or send me a note to let me know when you’re available.”
As if Rafi’s schedule was the one that mattered.
“The afternoons or early mornings.” Rafi should pretend to have more tasks but everyone at the table would know he was lying. “I don’t go home and I’m not in the capital much.”
Laure spoke up. “And he does enough studying in all that spare time that he doesn’t have a lot of courses anymore.”
“That’s something else I’ve heard,” Viau told Laure, sending a bolt of alarm through Rafi that Viau must have noticed. “I only ever hear good things. Please don’t worry about that too, Rafi.”
Now, Katoh sighed.
“Tomorrow then?” Viau went on. “Early? Then I can carry on to the garden before I clean up and you can head inside to whack your training dummies.”
Rafi clenched his jaw to keep a startlingly earnest whine from escaping, not certain when he’d become someone to openly fawn and coo when he didn’t even have aedis to blame. It was close contact with someone that compelling. Or the open buttons of Viau’s coat. Or Viau’s attention on him.
Katoh nudged his foot under the table so he nodded.
“Excellent.” Viau bestowed a warm smile on them all. “See you tomorrow, then.” He nodded to Rafi, sent another quick look to Ferrin, then left their table to head to a table where three instructors were eating, where he sat down.
“I’d eat at the palace instead of here if I had a choice,” Ferrin remarked.
Laure and Katoh gave him an exasperated look in unison.
“You don’t even know what palace food is like.” Katoh crossed her arms. “Swersoldi probably don’t even eat what the king does. Honestly.”
“He might, though. Cousins, aren’t they?” Ferrin pointed out. “And he’s noble anyway.”
Rafi was noble, but the Tizzan had a country estate without much grandeur, so he had no idea what palace meals might be like.
“He attended the academy. He lives here. He must enjoy the plainer food. Or at least not mind it.”
Rafi’s quiet statement got him some attention from the other three.
But before Ferrin could say anything, Laure asked, “Do you think he’d ever spar with me?
Or allow me to watch once in a while?” He ignored how his sweetheart echoed “Watch?” while snickering.
“I want to see if I can spot what you say he does.”
Rafi moved his gaze from Viau to the others at the table.
That was the kind of thing he ought to be thinking about, more than Viau’s smile or a small patch of bared skin.
Having influential friends could boost his career, boost their careers as well.
Viau probably expected that. That was the nature of things, even away from court.
Rafi still hesitated. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “I don’t really know him. I can ask. I think… I suspect anyway, that he’s bored here. So he might be amenable to also giving you some bruises.”
A growl formed in Rafi’s throat and stuck there like a hiccup. His gaze slid back to Viau, who was leaning forward to talk to Instructor Daloit and gesturing with his hands as he did. Daloit was leaning forward to listen.
The hiccup emerged, giving Katoh a start.
“I’ll ask him,” Rafi made himself say quickly so no one would remark on his growling, and then turned around to face Ferrin and ask for his bread crusts.