14. Chapter Fourteen #4
He inhaled deeply and imagined he might sleep that way, especially when Viau curled an arm around him with a series of quietly satisfied miné noises.
An aggressive tone snapped him from his contented, comfortable dreams.
“You bumped into me.” The speaker was a tall miné, who pushed past the drooping curtain with his attention fixed on Viau.
Viau’s long, tired exhale was audible as the room went silent.
“You didn’t apologize,” the stranger continued, several people about his age trailing behind him, with Cambray scowling and forcing his way through the small crowd.
Cambray’s concern was what made Rafi take a better look at first the crowd around the belligerent miné, and then at that miné himself.
Fine coats, swords at their hips, none of them dressed or moving like Trianon students or any sort of student swersoldi.
Bored and therefore troublesome young nobles who might have tagged along with Cambray and his friends.
The loud one must have felt he was their leader.
The first-years sometimes did that, formed small groups centered around the biggest or loudest one.
A way to find their place once away from home.
Rafi had been befriended almost immediately by Katoh and so thankfully had never had to contend with the energy and politics of such a pack.
“I don’t recall the incident, but I am sorry if you were hurt by my carelessness.” Viau didn’t sound especially sorry, but he did sound more polite than someone else might have over such a ludicrously insignificant thing being turned into a problem.
“That isn’t good enough,” declared the miné with his chin in the air.
“Aren’t you known for your courtesy?” He smirked as he said it, so he knew who Viau was.
Cambray might have said something to him to give Viau away, probably asking if they all wanted to go drink with Viau or something similar.
He couldn’t have known that people like this loved to challenge Viau.
“I’m not even armed.” Viau pointed out, more exhausted than alarmed. “When morning comes, you might regret becoming so upset over something so harmless. Perhaps you should think it over.” Once the wine or spirits have worn off, was not said but everyone heard it.
Viau was sincere, but an ill-mannered noble wasn’t going to appreciate being given a chance to back down.
“Oh, you’re scared?” The crowd around the aggressive miné didn’t laugh at the question as he might have expected them to, but a riled-up and overly confident miné like this one was not going to retreat simply because it was sensible.
Not a noble like that. Not even a swersoldi would retreat if enough eyes were on them and they felt their honor was at stake.
“We don’t have to wait until morning. I could challenge you now. You can borrow a sword from your nex.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Rafi remarked, and the strange miné looked at him as if he hadn’t expected Rafi to speak.
Viau’s arm tightened around him, but Rafi wasn’t going anywhere. He kept his attention solely on Viau’s would-be challenger.
The challenger turned back to Viau with a smirk. “Hiding behind your sweetheart?”
There was a faint gasp from the outer room, as if others were now also listening to this.
Viau didn’t seem any more eager to move than Rafi was. “I’m not hiding, young one. Tonight or tomorrow doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m free in the morning. I have an appointment I must keep.” He stopped to kiss the edge of Rafi’s hair.
Rafi kept his eyes on the Viau’s challenger as shock, fear, and worry flicked across the miné’s bullish face.
But overconfidence or fear of looking a buffoon in front of his friends kept the miné from retreating. “Well, then let’s…”
“You don’t want to do that,” Rafi said again, interrupting him—a rudeness far more fitting as an excuse for a duel, since this miné wanted to prove himself in one so badly.
“Rafi,” Viau warned. Bellai and Laure might have said it too. Katoh and Cambray were quiet, watching.
“And why not?” the miné demanded, mocking.
“Rafi.” In comparison, Viau was so very serious.
Rafi rubbed his cheek against Viau’s shoulder without taking his gaze off the young noble.
“You want to duel with Viau because you think it will give you a reputation. He’s known for being courteous and merciful, so you probably believe that he will only graze you and count that as an honorable win.
Or perhaps you believe you will win—though that is unlikely. ”
The miné narrowed his eyes, maybe thinking of challenging Rafi now too even though Rafi was a nex.
“Oh yeah?” He had an insulting amount of doubt in his voice. Someone properly educated in such arts wouldn’t have assumed that Rafi wore a sword he couldn’t use. The young nobles really ought to train someplace like the academy, if Trianon would take them.
“Yes.” Rafi enjoyed the way Viau held him, as if he thought Rafi might be pulled from him and didn’t intend to let Rafi be taken.
Wine and being around actors had made Rafi fanciful but it was a nice thought.
“Viau wouldn’t try to seriously hurt you, because Viau is courteous and merciful. I’m not.”
Cambray sucked in a breath. It was the only sound in the room until Viau rumbled. He held Rafi tightly, still unwilling to let go, so Rafi took a hand from Viau to rest it on the hilt of his sword.
“If you hurt him, you’ll have to face me. And that is not worth whatever mild insult he gave that he has already apologized for. He will be kind and want you to walk away from a duel. I won’t. I’ve never had anything before, so if you take him from me, I will take you. Understand? I’ll kill you.”
He’d never done that before, but his words didn’t feel like lies.
“Rafi doesn’t play games,” Bellai commented in a dry voice, and one of the actors coughed a nervous laugh, then stifled it.