Chapter 366: A Certain Someone

"Regis, if I tell someone they can start whenever they’re ready, do you think they ought to at least let me finish saying it?"

Reading the first line of Dahlia’s letter, Regis moved the one he had finished for Marzana out from under his elbow and settled more comfortably at the desk in his study. ’You lost, didn’t you?’

A girl at practice had worked up the courage to ask Dahlia for a bout. She had been so nervous about making the first move that Dahlia told her to take her time. Apparently, that was all the encouragement she needed. Dahlia had barely gotten the word ’ready’ out when a wooden sword tapped her on the elbow.

"I gave her the point, of course. I just wish you could’ve heard the way the story got shorter every time she told it. By the time we sat down to eat, all that was left was ’I beat Dahlia.’"

Regis chuckled. He could picture her sitting through lunch with that slightly aggrieved look on her face, especially if the girl had been sitting close enough to hear what Dahlia might have to say about it.

"Did you ask her for another round?" he murmured.

He found his answer a few lines further down. They had spent most of the afternoon together, and the girl had since taken to saving Dahlia a place beside her at lunch.

He was still smiling when he turned the page.

"I’m looking forward to seeing you in Grandella, Regis. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. When we see each other again, will you spar with me? I’d like to see for myself how strong you’ve gotten."

Regis went back and read the invitation again.

"A spar, huh..."

He had wondered what he would say to her when the two of them finally stood face to face. With all the letters they’d exchanged, it would be a little embarrassing if he got there and all he could come up with was ’How have you been?’

Well, it seemed Dahlia knew exactly what she wanted to do after they said hello.

’How good is she with a sword these days?’

His last visit to the Grava Duchy had given him precious little to go on. He remembered her coming up beside his avatar on their way to the meeting chamber, trying to get him to stand still long enough to compare their heights. Each time she drew close he had found something terribly interesting to look at through the window.

He meant to deny the part about standing on his toes if she ever brought it up. Still... what if she’d gotten taller again?

He had grown since then himself, but he might still have to allow for a little extra reach on her part. Suppose he let her have the first move. Would he be quick enough to touch her shoulder before she drew back?

His chair caught on the corner of the rug. Regis looked down at it. He’d actually gotten up and started moving the furniture to give himself room to try.

"What the hell am I doing?"

There were still seven months left before he turned sixteen. He had the Grandella Admission Tournament to think about, and here he was trying to win a spar with a girl who had yet to receive his answer.

He dipped the pen.

"You’re on."

Usually, he started with her name. Back in Paradis, he had written it and sat for ages trying to think of what could possibly come next. This time he had a fair bit to say, and he rather liked the idea of her unfolding the page and seeing those two words first.

He told her about supper at the bakery and how Perto had come in towards the end. It was a small thing to put in a letter, a friend sitting down beside him to eat.

He had wanted to tell her about it all the same. He added that the girl at practice had earned her point. By the time he reached the bottom of the page, he was writing whatever came to mind. Only after he put a question mark on the end of his last line did he think to read it back.

"How tall are you now?"

"..."

Regis drew a line through it. Then, considering how easily he could still read the words, he took a little more ink and did a more thorough job of it.

By the time he signed his name, he had decided how he wanted to spend the afternoon.

***

On his way down to the underground training hall, Regis heard Killian’s voice carry up the stairs.

"That one got through."

"It hit my shield."

"I know. That’s why your shield hit you."

There was a brief silence, followed by Pandora’s reluctant admission. "Alright. That one got through."

Regis slowed down to listen. It used to be difficult to make out what anyone was saying down here. Somebody was always calling to a friend over the sound of clashing weapons, and sooner or later someone else would shout at them both to keep it down. He missed the noise. From where he stood now, he could even hear Killian trying to keep Pandora from noticing he was laughing.

"Would you like me to show you how that feels?" she asked.

Apparently, he hadn’t managed it.

Regis stepped through the doorway in time to see Killian lower his practice sword. His friend glanced over, looked at the stairs behind him and frowned.

"Boss? Is it that late already?"

"Why? Are you two finished?"

"We can be. Did Aurelia send you down for us?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you had room for one more."

For a moment they both just looked at him. Then Pandora noticed the shirt he had changed into, its loose sleeves already tied back for practice, and a smile spread across her face.

"You’re joining us, Brother?"

"If you’ll have me."

Killian was already reaching for a second practice sword. Seeing how quickly he had gone for it made Regis laugh.

"Give me a moment. I haven’t even stretched yet."

"Take your time, Boss." Killian set the sword within reach anyway.

Regis joined them on the floor and eased himself into a stretch. For the past three months, friends who wanted his company had grown used to matching their pace to his on the streets of Harmonia. It felt a little strange to have both of them standing there watching him do something as simple as bend a knee.

"You can finish your round, you know."

"We did," Pandora said. "Apparently I hit myself."

This time Killian wisely kept his mouth shut. Regis leaned a little further, letting his weight settle over the leg that had given him so much trouble. There was a pull through the muscle. He held the stretch for a breath, then straightened. He tried the other side and was pleased to find it felt much the same.

"Something happen today, Boss?" Killian asked. "You look pleased with yourself."

"Do I?" Regis stretched one arm across his chest. He could still picture the patch of ink drying on his desk. With his luck she’d hold the damn thing up to the light. "A certain someone gave me a little inspiration."

"Who?"

Regis glanced at him. "You could’ve at least pretended to think about it first."

"I did. Couldn’t come up with anyone. Who was it?"

Pandora had wanted to ask him the same question. There had been such fondness in his voice when he spoke of that person. Her fingers tightened in the cloth over her chest, and she let Killian do the asking. By the time Regis looked her way again, she was setting a third cup beside theirs on the bench.

"Come on, Boss. What did this person say?"

"They asked me for a spar." Regis finished stretching and picked up the practice sword Killian had set aside for him. "It sounded like fun."

Killian seemed to consider that. Then he stepped back to give Regis some room, an answering smile tugging at his mouth. "I can help with that part."

"An easy one to start with? First touch on the arm."

"Sure."

Killian gave his sword a little shake to settle the grip comfortably in his palm. Regis had seen him do that before more bouts than he could count. His own weight tipped forward as he watched, and he caught himself wishing his friend would hurry up. ’I’m the one who asked for an easy round...’

Their wooden blades met with a dry clack. For the first exchange, Killian kept to the pace Regis had asked for. It gave Regis time to hear his feet across the floor, to feel the small jolt in his hand and, for one satisfying instant, to see exactly where there was room to get past his friend’s guard.

’There!’

His foot came down a fraction late. The tip of his practice sword brushed Killian’s loose sleeve, and the flat of Killian’s blade tapped his upper arm.

They drew apart. Regis looked at the bit of cloth he had barely managed to touch. He’d had that. A little earlier and he would’ve had it.

Killian started to lower his sword, ready to give him a breather. Regis was already back in position.

"Again."

Killian grinned and came at him.