Chapter 208: university gymnasium III

Chapter 208: Chapter 208: university gymnasium III

Christopher glanced toward the piste again.

Another bout had ended.

He checked the time.

"I should probably go change."

Vivienne blinked.

"Oh."

She immediately looked down.

"Of course."

Christopher stood and picked up his equipment bag.

"I’ll be fencing in a few minutes."

Vivienne looked up at him.

"Right."

She nodded.

Then, for some reason, nodded again.

"Okay."

Christopher smiled.

"I’ll see you later."

"Yes."

She paused.

"Good luck."

"Thank you."

He turned to leave.

Vivienne watched him take a few steps.

Then she realized she was still staring.

She quickly looked away.

Oh my God.

What was wrong with her?

She had spent the entire morning hoping to see him.

Then he actually appeared.

Then he sat beside her.

Then he explained fencing to her in that voice.

And now he was going to fence.

She pressed her palms lightly against her cheeks.

They were still warm.

Get yourself together.

She glanced toward the changing area.

Christopher disappeared behind the partition.

Vivienne exhaled.

"All right."

She turned toward the piste.

She was going to watch Eleanor.

That was why she was here.

And, of course, she would happen to watch Christopher too.

That was completely reasonable.

A few minutes later, Christopher emerged in full fencing gear.

Vivienne’s eyes immediately found him.

The protective jacket fit neatly across his shoulders, emphasizing the height and athletic build she’d only noticed beneath his ordinary clothes. His mask hung from one hand as he approached the piste, speaking briefly with another fencer.

Then he pulled on his glove.

Vivienne sat a little straighter.

Oh.

He looked different.

Not merely because of the fencing uniform.

There was something about the way he carried himself now.

Focused.

Confident.

Completely at ease.

A whistle sounded.

The next bout was announced.

Christopher lowered his mask.

Vivienne’s stomach gave a ridiculous little flutter.

Then the match began.

He moved.

Fast.

Vivienne blinked.

The other fencer lunged.

Christopher stepped aside with barely a pause, his blade flashing forward before the other man had fully recovered.

A sharp metallic clash rang through the gymnasium.

The referee called the point.

Vivienne looked around.

Everyone seemed to understand what had just happened.

She didn’t.

But judging by the reaction around her, Christopher had done something impressive.

She looked back at him.

He reset his stance.

The bout continued.

This time Vivienne watched more carefully.

The quick footwork.

The sudden changes in direction.

The way Christopher seemed to anticipate his opponent rather than simply react.

He wasn’t frantic.

That was what surprised her most.

Every movement looked deliberate.

Controlled.

Even when he attacked, there was something almost effortless about it.

Vivienne leaned forward without realizing it.

She still didn’t understand the rules.

She couldn’t tell why one touch counted and another didn’t.

But she was beginning to understand why people enjoyed watching the sport.

Or perhaps—

Why people enjoyed watching him.

She glanced around.

Several other students had stopped what they were doing.

A few had gathered near the edge of the piste.

And quite a number of them were girls.

Vivienne noticed one whisper something to another.

The other girl glanced toward Christopher.

Then both smiled.

Vivienne’s eyebrows lifted.

Oh.

So it wasn’t just her.

She looked back at the piste.

Christopher scored again.

A small murmur went through the spectators.

Vivienne couldn’t help smiling.

Show-off.

Though she was secretly impressed.

Very impressed.

The bout ended.

Christopher removed his mask.

Vivienne’s attention sharpened immediately.

His platinum blond hair was slightly disheveled beneath it, strands falling across his forehead. A light sheen of sweat had appeared along his temples and cheekbones.

He lifted one hand and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the loose strands back.

Vivienne forgot to breathe.

Oh my God.

That should not have been legal.

He looked—

Ridiculously good.

The Christopher she had been sitting beside a few minutes earlier had somehow disappeared.

This Christopher looked like he belonged in an entirely different kind of magazine.

The girls nearby had clearly noticed too.

One of them whispered something.

Another laughed.

Vivienne looked away.

Then looked back.

She couldn’t help herself.

Christopher took a drink of water while speaking to one of his teammates. He laughed at something the other man said, completely unaware of the attention surrounding him.

Or perhaps he was simply used to it.

Of course he was.

He was Christopher Archibald.

Tall.

Handsome.

Wealthy.

The son of the Prime Minister.

And apparently excellent at fencing.

That’s unfair.

Vivienne rested her chin lightly against her hand.

She had thought she already knew he was attractive.

Apparently, she had been working with insufficient information.

The next bout began.

Again, the spectators gradually quieted.

And again, Vivienne watched.

Christopher was even more impressive once she understood the rhythm of the sport—or, more accurately, once she stopped trying to understand it.

She simply watched him.

The quick advance.

The sudden retreat.

The flash of the blade.

The controlled lunge.

The way he immediately returned to his stance after every exchange.

There was something captivating about watching someone completely absorbed in something they were good at.

Vivienne found herself smiling every time he scored.

She didn’t even know what she was cheering for.

She simply knew she wanted him to win.

Another bout.

Another point.

Another round of applause from the spectators.

Christopher removed his mask again during the break.

His breathing was slightly heavier this time.

He tilted his head back briefly, then ran his fingers through his damp hair.

Vivienne stared.

This man is going to be the death of me.

She glanced around again.

The girls were still watching him.

One of them was practically staring.

Vivienne’s lips twitched.

She couldn’t even blame her.

Then a strange little feeling settled in her chest.

Was that jealousy?

She frowned.

No.

Not jealousy.

She had no claim on him.

Still...

She looked back toward Christopher.

He was laughing with one of his teammates.

Vivienne’s smile returned.

Fine.

She could admit it.

She liked watching him.

A lot.

And if other girls happened to notice how handsome he was too...

Well.

That only confirmed that her taste was excellent.

Vivienne leaned back against the bench.

She had come here expecting to watch fencing.

Instead, she had spent the morning discovering an entirely new reason to enjoy Sundays.

And she still didn’t understand a single rule.