Chapter 1123: Emergency Preparation

Dinner had begun with considerably more restraint than usual.

Whether Marian’s warning deserved credit remained uncertain.

Toven had taken enough food to satisfy himself without producing another lecture about eating lightly, while Lucavion seemed to have interpreted the advice as a challenge in portion management rather than appetite. Across the joined tables, plates changed hands, bread disappeared by degrees, and the conversation wandered between the examinations everyone had finished and the single one still waiting for them.

The dining hall had grown quieter around them. Many students from Block 7-A had already returned upstairs to prepare, leaving the remaining tables occupied by smaller groups speaking beneath the warm hum of the evening lamps.

Marian broke a piece of bread apart.

"All right. Since we’re apparently going into this half-blind, which part is everyone worried about?"

Toven looked up.

"Why would you ask that while we’re eating?"

"Because you’re calmer when your mouth is occupied."

One of the twins laughed.

Toven stared at Marian, swallowed, then pointed his fork at her.

"That was unnecessary."

"It worked."

Mireilla leaned an elbow against the table.

"Precedence."

Marian turned immediately.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What part?"

"The part where somebody’s rank changes where I’m supposed to stand, unless we’re in a military setting, unless somebody is representing another house, unless—"

Mireilla stopped and frowned.

"Actually, that sentence explains the problem."

Marian laughed.

"Fair."

"I understand putting the important person first. Fine. Then somebody decided importance needed twelve categories."

"More than twelve."

Mireilla slowly looked at her.

Marian winced.

"That probably wasn’t helpful."

"It wasn’t."

Caeden had been listening while cutting his meal into neat portions.

"The exceptions are the difficult part."

Mireilla pointed toward him.

"Exactly."

Caeden nodded once. "The rules themselves are manageable. The exceptions depend on context."

Toven lowered his fork.

"And that is why the rules are bad."

Caeden looked at him.

"That is why you learn the context."

"No, listen. If a rule requires another rule to explain when the first rule stops working—"

"Toven."

"I am making a point."

"You have made this point before."

"I have improved it."

Mireilla rubbed her temple.

"You haven’t."

Toven opened his mouth, thought better of continuing against two opponents, and returned to his plate with a mutter.

Marian’s attention moved farther down the table.

"Elayne?"

Elayne looked up.

She had been listening quietly from beside Mireilla, one hand resting near her glass.

"...What?"

"What worries you?"

A pause.

Elayne’s eyes shifted toward the others and then back to Marian.

"The talking."

Toven glanced over.

"Talking?"

Elayne’s fingers moved against the base of her glass.

"The formal conversation."

"Oh." Marian nodded. "That part."

Elayne waited.

Marian realized she expected more.

"It usually isn’t terrible. They’ll probably place you with someone, give you a setting, maybe introduce a topic—"

"And then?"

"You talk."

Elayne’s expression tightened.

Mireilla hid a smile behind her cup.

Marian hurried to clarify.

"You don’t have to carry the whole conversation. Ask something appropriate, answer properly, follow what the other person gives you."

Elayne looked unconvinced.

"What if they..."

She stopped.

Everyone waited.

Her brows drew together while she searched for the sentence.

"What if they keep talking?"

Toven frowned. "Then you’re lucky."

Elayne looked at him.

"No."

The answer was so quiet and immediate that Mireilla laughed into her drink.

Toven stared.

"What?"

Elayne lowered her gaze.

"...Nothing."

Lucavion, several seats away, had begun smiling.

Elayne noticed.

"Don’t."

"I haven’t spoken."

"You were going to."

Lucavion looked pleased by the accusation.

Elayne sighed and returned to her food before he could turn that into a conversation of its own.

Marian wisely moved on.

"Caeden?"

"Arcanian-specific conventions."

"You know most of them."

"Most isn’t enough if they choose the ones I don’t."

"That is an incredibly Caeden answer," Toven muttered.

Caeden looked toward him.

Toven concentrated on his plate.

Mireilla’s mouth twitched.

Marian shifted her attention toward Lucavion.

"And you?"

Lucavion looked up.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"I have been informed that I should worry broadly."

"That isn’t what I asked."

He considered his plate.

"The possibility that the examination delays dessert."

Marian stared at him.

Toven made a disgusted sound.

"He does this every time."

"Does what?" Lucavion asked.

"That."

"You’ll need to be more specific."

"I refuse."

"Then communication has failed us."

Marian exhaled through her nose.

"Lucavion, you skipped half the preparation lessons."

"More than half," Caeden corrected.

Lucavion glanced at him.

Caeden continued eating.

Toven leaned around him.

"He left before the pairing lesson even reached the pairing."

"I had sword practice."

"You always have sword practice!"

"That sounds like consistency."

Toven threw one hand into the air.

Marian watched them for several seconds before looking toward the others.

"He genuinely needs help."

"He needs fear," Mireilla said.

"I have healthy amounts."

"You hide it well."

"Thank you."

"That wasn’t praise."

Selphine had spent most of dinner listening.

She occasionally asked for clarification when Marian mentioned a custom, though she showed little concern for the examination itself. Her attention moved more often through the group: who answered quickly, who hesitated, which subjects changed someone’s posture, which jokes created responses that seemed slightly too practiced.

Lucavion’s etiquette problem presented itself with unusual convenience.

"You could review with someone before you change," Selphine said.

Lucavion turned toward her.

"I appear to have inspired administrative intervention."

"Consider it preventative."

Toven nodded vigorously.

"Yes."

Lucavion gave him a look.

Toven sat straighter.

"I support education."

"You were mourning it half an hour ago."

"That was my education."

Aurelian smiled into his glass.

Marian had already begun considering Selphine’s suggestion.

"We have enough time. A short review would probably help."

"Probably?" Lucavion repeated.

"Definitely."

"Ah. Much warmer."

Mireilla pushed her plate aside.

"The question is who can tolerate him."

"That removes Toven," one twin said.

"I wasn’t volunteering."

"Caeden?"

Caeden shook his head.

"I can correct the commoner preparation material. Someone raised with Arcanian etiquette would be better."

Marian glanced around.

"I could—"

"Elowyn."

Selphine spoke before the offer finished.

The table shifted by the smallest degree.

Elara’s eyes moved toward her.

Selphine continued with the same even tone.

"She has the cleanest formal conduct among us. Her introductions are correct, she knows precedence, and she won’t teach him one of Marian’s family variations by accident."

Marian frowned.

"My family variations are perfectly acceptable."

"In your region."

"They’re still acceptable."

"Usually."

Marian pointed her fork at Selphine.

"We are discussing Lucavion."

Selphine inclined her head.

"Exactly."

Lucavion looked between them.

"I appreciate how quickly my education became a territorial dispute."

Elara wiped her fingers neatly against her napkin.

"A brief review is possible."

Cedric’s hand, which had been reaching for his glass, settled against the table instead.

His eyes moved toward Elara.

Selphine saw the movement.

Mireilla, across from her, saw Selphine see it.

Their gazes met for an instant.

Mireilla’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Selphine returned her attention to Elara.

Cedric spoke.

"I can review with him."

His voice remained level, but the offer entered before anyone had asked for another volunteer.

Elara turned toward him.

"You still need to prepare."

"So do you."

"The review will take twenty minutes."

Cedric held her gaze.

"I know the material."

"So do I."

A small silence formed around that exchange.

Lucavion looked from Cedric to Elara, then toward Selphine.

Selphine had become remarkably interested in adjusting the position of her glass.

Aurelian noticed that too.

His fingers tapped once against the table.

"Twenty minutes seems optimistic," he said.

The tension loosened just enough.

Toven snorted.

"For Lucavion? Start at forty."

Lucavion placed one hand against his chest.

"Your confidence in me has collapsed very quickly."

"It was never high."

"Cruel."

"You reminded me about etiquette."

"That was hours ago."

"It has been twenty minutes."

Lucavion paused.

"Has it?"

Mireilla groaned.

Marian laughed, and even Cedric’s attention shifted away from Elara as the table found an easier rhythm again.

Aurelian let several exchanges pass before addressing Lucavion directly.

"You’ve complained about nearly every examination this week."

"An exaggerated accusation."

"Which one surprised you?"

Lucavion’s expression changed slightly.

Aurelian leaned back in his chair.

"I don’t mean your score. Did any of them give you something you weren’t expecting?"

That slowed Lucavion more effectively than the earlier teasing had.

He looked down at his glass.

"Mana Control."

Elara’s gaze lifted.

Toven stopped midway through reaching for bread.

"You liked an examination?"

"I didn’t say that."

"You almost did."

"I said it surprised me."

Aurelian gestured lightly for him to continue.

Lucavion rolled the glass once between his fingers.

"It showed me that I understood something incorrectly."

Toven waited.

When nothing more followed, he frowned.

"And?"

"And now I understand it less incorrectly."

"That explanation is terrible."

"It is accurate."

Caeden nodded faintly.

Toven stared at him.

"Don’t encourage him."

Aurelian’s amusement remained restrained.

"But useful?"

Lucavion took a moment before answering.

"Yes."

The word carried none of his usual performance.

Elara noticed.

Cedric did as well.

For several breaths, the surrounding conversation softened beneath the distant clatter of plates and voices from the rest of the hall.

Then Aurelian nodded.

"Good."

He reached for his drink and left the matter there.

Marian reclaimed the conversation before it could become heavier.

"Back to the actual emergency."

Lucavion looked at her.

"My etiquette."

"Your etiquette," Marian confirmed. "Elowyn can run you through the important parts after dinner. Introductions first, then precedence and the paired—"

"No."

Marian stopped.

The answer had come plainly enough that several people took a moment to register it.

Elara’s attention settled on Lucavion.

Cedric’s hand relaxed beside his glass.

Toven blinked. "No?"

"No."

"You mean..." He leaned forward. "No to Elowyn?"

"To the review."

Marian lowered her fork. "All of it?"

Lucavion nodded.

"I’ll manage on my own."

For once, the table had very little to say.

Mireilla studied him across the dishes. Caeden’s brows drew together, while one of the twins glanced at his brother as though checking whether they had both heard the same thing.

Elayne looked up as well.

"...You won’t practice?"

"I may practice."

"With someone?"

"Unlikely."

Toven stared.

"But you barely know the paired sequence."

"I remember enough to begin."

"You said you remembered half a lesson."

"Yes."

"That is not—"

Caeden placed a hand against Toven’s shoulder before the argument gathered momentum.

"Leave it."

Toven looked at him.

Caeden kept his gaze on Lucavion.

"You’ve decided?"

"I have."

There was little challenge in Lucavion’s voice. He simply reached for his glass and took another drink, as comfortable with the decision as he had been with every warning thrown at him since the courtyard.

Marian leaned back.

"Well."

One of the twins tilted his head.

"He hasn’t changed."

His brother gave a quiet laugh.

"Did anyone expect him to?"

Toven looked between them and then back toward Lucavion.

"I thought maybe the examinations had done something."

Lucavion raised a brow.

"Within a week?"

Toven hesitated.

Lucavion spread one hand.

"How can someone change that much within a week?"

Aurelian’s mouth curved.

"That is a surprisingly sensible argument coming from you."

"I have them occasionally."

"Very occasionally," Mireilla said.

Lucavion looked toward her.

She met the look without concern and took another bite.

Marian sighed, though the sound carried more resignation than frustration now.

"So we’re letting him walk into the Rotunda with whatever he remembers."

Caeden answered first.

"He would go anyway."

"That wasn’t what I asked."

"It is the relevant part."

Marian opened her mouth, paused, then gave up with a small shake of her head.

Elara had remained quiet through most of the exchange. Her eyes stayed on Lucavion for another moment before she returned to her plate.

"If he wants to prepare alone, let him."

Toven looked at her.

"You’re all strangely calm about this."

Mireilla pushed the bread basket toward him.

"You met him before today."

That settled something.

Toven stared at the basket, then at Lucavion, and slowly seemed to remember exactly whom they were discussing.

"...Right."

Lucavion smiled.

"I appreciate the confidence."

"That wasn’t confidence."

"Still appreciated."

Elayne’s mouth shifted faintly.

She caught Lucavion looking and immediately lowered her eyes toward her plate.

The conversation broke apart after that.

Marian returned to discussing precedence with Caeden and Mireilla. Toven attempted to contribute twice and was corrected both times. One twin started arguing that ceremonial dancing counted as physical training if performed badly enough, while his brother objected mainly to the definition of training. Aurelian listened with the patient amusement of someone prepared to intervene only if the discussion became genuinely destructive.

Selphine said nothing.

She lifted her glass instead.

The cool drink touched her tongue while her attention remained on the people seated across from her.

Cedric’s response had been brief.

Elara’s had been controlled.

Lucavion had refused the entire premise before either could carry the matter farther.

An incomplete experiment, perhaps.

Still useful.

Selphine swallowed.

For now, what she had seen was satisfactory.

Around her, dinner continued beneath the warm lamps while the last of the evening light disappeared from the windows.

Soon they would separate.

Formal clothes would replace examination uniforms. Notes would be checked one final time. Toven would almost certainly discover another reason to complain about etiquette, and Marian would almost certainly tell him to stop.

Then Block 7-A would head toward the Rotunda together.

For the moment, though, they remained around the same table.

Talking.

Eating.

Arguing over rules none of them had invented.

It was an ordinary enough ending to an extraordinary week.