Chapter 1122: Before the Last Bell

"Elayne."

Her steps stopped.

She had almost cleared the courtyard.

Another three paces would have carried her behind the western arch, where the evening traffic thickened enough for someone with Elayne’s particular talent for becoming uninteresting to disappear comfortably among the returning students.

Almost.

Elayne looked over.

Lucavion raised one hand.

"Come suffer with the rest of us."

Her gaze moved across the gathering.

Caeden stood beside Lucavion. Toven remained nearby, though whatever enthusiasm had animated him earlier appeared to have suffered a recent and severe injury. Mireilla had arrived from the examination sector several minutes ago and now looked as though sitting down had become her highest remaining ambition.

Elayne glanced toward the arch again.

Mireilla saw it.

"Oh, don’t even try."

Elayne’s eyes returned to her.

"I wasn’t..."

She paused.

"Leaving."

"You were absolutely leaving."

"I was going inside."

Toven pointed toward the residential block. "That’s where we’re going."

Elayne looked at him.

"...Eventually?"

"Well—"

"Toven."

Caeden’s voice ended that defense before it developed.

Marian arrived at exactly the right moment to make escape impossible.

She approached with the twins on either side, one of them speaking while the other repeatedly tried to interrupt with corrections that Marian had apparently stopped acknowledging several sentences ago.

"...and I am telling you," the first twin insisted, "the examiner moved the marker after I started."

"You started before he finished speaking."

"That is interpretation."

"That is time."

Marian noticed the others.

"Oh, good. People who aren’t discussing reaction markers."

The first twin looked wounded. "You agreed with me ten minutes ago."

"I said I understood what happened."

"That sounds remarkably close."

"It isn’t."

Lucavion smiled.

Marian’s attention shifted to Elayne.

"Are you coming with us?"

Elayne hesitated.

Lucavion’s grin widened before she could answer.

Her eyes immediately found him.

"You did this."

"I called your name."

"In front of everyone."

"Efficiently."

Elayne stared at him for a moment, then looked toward Marian instead.

"...Where?"

"The dining hall, eventually. We thought we’d wait for the rest first."

That was apparently acceptable.

Elayne walked over.

As she passed Lucavion, she gave him one last narrow look.

He smiled pleasantly.

Her pace increased by half a step.

Mireilla saw the exchange and shook her head.

"You really can’t leave people alone."

"I invited her into society."

"She was doing fine outside it."

Elayne quietly added, "I was."

Lucavion looked betrayed.

The group moved away from the main path before returning students forced them to choose between conversation and traffic. A broad terrace ran along one side of the residential courtyard, with several benches gathered around low stone tables. Toven dropped into the nearest seat first, then stretched both legs beneath the table as though he had personally survived something historic.

Mireilla sat beside him with considerably less drama.

Marian remained standing.

"We should probably wait before eating."

Toven’s head lifted.

"Why?"

"So everyone can eat together?"

"Yes, but why?"

Marian blinked. "Because that is generally how waiting works."

"No, I mean why wait for food?"

One of the twins nodded solemnly. "A serious question."

The other twin gave him a look. "You’ve eaten twice since noon."

"That has nothing to do with principle."

Caeden set his folded training coat beside him.

"We can wait."

Toven stared at him.

"You’ve become very comfortable saying that because you’re never hungry."

"I am hungry."

"You don’t look hungry."

Caeden frowned slightly. "What does hunger look like?"

Toven opened his mouth.

Paused.

Then pointed vaguely at Lucavion.

"That."

Lucavion, who had been inspecting the terrace beyond them, turned.

"I object to being used as a medical illustration."

Mireilla gave a tired snort.

Marian laughed and finally sat.

"Actually, there’s another reason. We shouldn’t eat too heavily before tonight."

That settled the table faster than expected.

Mireilla looked over first.

"Why?"

"Advice."

"From?"

"Seniors."

Lucavion turned toward Marian.

"Seniors?"

Toven leaned forward. "You know seniors?"

Marian looked between them.

"Of course I know seniors."

The first twin leaned toward Lucavion as though sharing confidential information.

"She has acquaintances."

Marian gave him an offended look. "I have friends."

The second twin corrected, "Some are acquaintances."

"I know the difference."

"Your mother knows their mothers."

"That doesn’t prevent friendship."

"It occasionally manufactures it."

Marian reached across and pushed his shoulder.

He laughed.

Lucavion watched the exchange with mild interest.

"So you entered the Academy with established intelligence networks."

Marian rolled her eyes.

"I grew up around nobles, Lucavion. Some people older than me entered before I did. That is considerably less mysterious than you’re making it sound."

"Disappointing."

"Sorry for being a noble....."

"Come on now. I did not say it like that."

Mireilla brought them back before Lucavion could improve the conspiracy.

"What did they say about the examination?"

Marian adjusted the folded folio resting in her lap.

"That we should eat lightly. Wear proper formal clothes. Arrive early."

Toven waited.

"And?"

"And what?"

"What happens?"

"They wouldn’t tell me."

His face fell.

Mireilla’s brows lifted. "Nothing?"

"One of them laughed."

"That sounds useful."

"It was deeply unhelpful."

The first twin rested an elbow against the table. "He laughed quite a lot, actually."

Marian’s expression soured.

"I know."

"He also said—"

"I remember what he said."

"What did he say?" Toven asked immediately.

Marian looked at him.

Toven leaned closer.

For several seconds, she seemed to weigh whether telling him would improve anything.

It apparently failed the test.

"You’ll worry."

"I am already worried."

"More."

"I’d like to make an informed decision."

"About what?"

"How much to worry."

Mireilla rubbed her forehead.

Caeden intervened.

"Did the seniors give you anything useful about the format?"

Marian nodded.

"They said the instructors care more about how you respond when something goes wrong than whether you can recite every rule perfectly."

Caeden considered that.

"That matches what we were told."

Toven looked between them. "Wait. Something goes wrong?"

Lucavion’s interest returned.

Marian immediately noticed.

"That expression concerns me."

"What expression?"

"The one you have whenever something becomes more dangerous and you decide that improves it."

Mireilla pointed at him without looking.

"That one."

Lucavion smiled.

Elayne, who had settled at the quieter end of the table, looked at Marian.

"They make... mistakes?"

"Deliberately, apparently."

"In the setting?"

"Yes. Wrong introduction, misplaced rank, incorrect service order. That sort of thing."

Elayne’s fingers moved once against the strap of her bag.

"And we correct them?"

"Sometimes."

She frowned.

"Sometimes?"

Marian spread one hand. "That’s where my information ends."

Elayne became quiet again.

Toven did the opposite.

"What do you mean, sometimes? Either something is wrong or it isn’t."

Caeden looked toward him.

"The response may depend on who made the mistake."

"That makes the mistake less wrong?"

"No."

"Then—"

"Toven."

"I am asking."

"You’re beginning an argument with an examination that hasn’t started."

"That seems better than beginning one after it starts."

Mireilla gave Caeden a sideways glance.

"He really was like this in the lessons."

"I remember."

Toven looked betrayed. "You were on my side about the seating chart."

"I said the chart was inefficient."

"Exactly."

"I still learned it."

"That feels ideologically weak."

A laugh broke from one of the twins.

Even Elayne’s mouth shifted faintly before she lowered her gaze.

The conversation loosened after that.

Several students crossed the courtyard toward the residence while the evening light deepened over the upper windows. The worst urgency of examination day had begun draining from the block. Bags were dropped against walls. Uniform collars had been opened. Somewhere above them, somebody shouted that they were finished for the week and received several equally loud corrections reminding them about the Rotunda.

Then two more figures entered the courtyard.

Selphine came first, walking at an even pace with her examination materials tucked neatly beneath one arm. Aurelian kept beside her, listening while she spoke in a low voice about something that appeared to require considerably more attention than he currently wished to provide.

He noticed the terrace.

His gaze passed over the assembled group.

Then settled on Toven.

Toven had returned to staring mournfully at nothing.

Aurelian slowed.

"What happened to him?"

Selphine followed his gaze.

"He looks bereaved."

"I remembered etiquette," Toven said.

Selphine accepted that with a small nod.

"Understandable."

Toven stared at her.

Aurelian’s mouth twitched.

Lucavion shifted aside enough to open space at the table.

"Welcome. Apparently we’re preparing."

Selphine’s eyes moved from him to Caeden, then Toven, then Marian.

"Preparing?"

Mireilla answered before Lucavion could.

"We’re trying to."

Aurelian pulled out a chair.

"And how is that going?"

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then one of the twins said, "We’ve established that eating too much is dangerous."

The other added, "Possibly."

Toven lifted one finger.

"And the Academy intends to make mistakes at us."

Marian closed her eyes.

"That is not what I said."

Selphine sat.

Aurelian looked around the table once more.

"I see."

He placed his hands upon the chair back before lowering himself into it.

"So the evening is progressing normally."

The group had barely settled again when Marian looked past Aurelian’s shoulder.

"Oh. There they are."

Several heads turned.

Elara and Cedric were crossing the courtyard from the eastern passage, their pace unhurried now that the day’s evaluations had finally released them. Cedric carried a thin folio beneath one arm, while Elara had already put hers away somewhere, leaving both hands free as she approached the terrace.

Her gaze passed over the gathered students.

"Good evening."

"Finally," Marian said.

Elara’s brow lifted.

"That welcoming?"

"We were waiting for you two."

Cedric looked toward the residential building, then at the table.

"For what?"

"Food," Toven answered immediately.

Marian pointed at him.

"And apparently preventing him from thinking about food has become a communal responsibility."

"I was sitting quietly."

"You asked about it four times."

"Because nobody answered properly the first three."

Mireilla leaned back against the bench.

"We were also talking about eating less before the examination."

Elara had been reaching for the empty chair beside Selphine. Her hand paused against its back.

"Eating less?"

"Yes." Marian nodded. "We were waiting for you two before heading in, and apparently we shouldn’t eat too much before the Rotunda."

Elara pulled the chair out.

"Hm. Any reason for that?"

"Seniors said so."

"Oh."

That simple response drew Toven’s attention immediately.

He leaned forward.

"Why did you say that like it explained something?"

Elara looked at him.

"I said oh."

"Yes, but it was a knowledgeable oh."

Aurelian turned his face slightly, hiding what might have been a smile.

Elara sat.

"I have no secret knowledge about the examination, Toven."

Marian clapped her hands once before either could discover a reason to continue.

"Food."

Toven stood immediately.

Mireilla stared at him.

"You recovered quickly."

"I can worry while eating."

"Lightly," Marian reminded him.

His enthusiasm weakened again.

"Right."

Elayne rose more quietly and collected her bag. The twins resumed their earlier argument before they had even cleared the table, while Caeden picked up his folded training coat and followed after them. Selphine waited for Marian to pass before joining the movement, with Aurelian falling naturally beside her.

Within moments, what had begun as three commoner students lingering beside the residential path had become a loose procession heading toward the dining hall.

Their last examination waited at nine past noon.

For the moment, dinner came first.