"You haven't heard the last of this." Penny-Ante, leaning against the wall, looked poisonous as Dalliance passed before entering the door himself. Her hair was now more fastidiously put together, her eyes, through some mystery of femininity, no longer either red or shaded. She looked every inch the daughter of power.

  Dalliance crossed his heart with a finger before thinking better of it, and had the momentary satisfaction of her lips compressing into a thin, bloodless line before the changing geometry of the closing door hid her from his view.

  Effluvia and Ronan were waiting for him on the bench outside the classroom, Ronan’s back to the armrest to give her his direct attention and as much space as propriety could ask for. Effluvia had a look of open disapproval on her face, and was looking at Dalliance as he walked up.

  "Why is it that men can't ever let things go?" she muttered archly.

  "It's not about not letting go," said Ronan. "It's about not backing down. Like if I said ‘That was a hard fight. Would you like to go again after school?’"

  Dalliance was surprised but looked up into the guileless, dark eyes of the blue-haired spellsword. “I’d say ‘No, I don't think so’. Without more practice, I'd just lose."

  The spellsword grinned. "Another time, then. See? Neither one of us had to back down. He was open with his truth, as was I, fine, and then we go our separate ways."

  "She wanted him to offer abasement," Effluvia said. “Her family honor—”

  "—If she’d said, 'I don't like you,' he probably wouldn't have had the urge to snark the same way. It’s just a child being catty.”

  “What do you think, Dalliance?"

  Dalliance thought he was being dragged into a conversation with deeper waters than he could read from the surface. "I think I know better than to make an opinion when I don't know what everyone's talking about," he said.

  For that one, he got an approving glance from Effluvia before she smacked her notebook shut, which he had only just noticed she still had open.

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  "You were talking about me," he said.

  "A bit, but nothing really important. I guess men like a good chinwag as much as anybody else," said Ronan, completely unapologetically. "And I had to know the reputation of my future sparring partner."

  "Sparring partner?" Dalliance asked.

  "Your friend has it all figured out," Ronan said. “A question, briefly, because I’m starving: You didn't hit me, not once. Why?"

  "Because my wrist isn't strong enough to keep the angle straight, and I don’t want to waste my time," Dalliance admitted.

  "That's what I thought," he said. "Every deflection you made was outward, blade downward, a glancing, sliding thing. An excellent adaptation, but starkly limiting. And so, your friend shall supplement our selection of spells, and I shall provide a basic tutelage in the use of a sword."

  "I've got some spells," Dalliance said a little defensively.

  "No doubt," Ronan said cheerfully. "And I'd be happy to trade. It's refreshing," he said, "to meet two mages who aren't precious about it. These aren't state secrets. These are tools that I can use to protect you on the Wall, and you me."

  Dalliance nodded cheerfully. He couldn't help but feel the world would be better if more people thought the same way.

  "I would have expected a lady of your distinction to have had the services of a sword master made available to her," admitted Ronan, as they crossed the lawn, Dalliance finding to his annoyance that both of his future sparring partners had longer strides than he did.

  "As to that," Effluvia said, "there was a sword master available. But as he was not employed in that capacity: all he ever taught me was reading, writing, arithmetic, the classics, and rhetoric."

  "Your schoolteacher?" Ronan asked.

  "Our schoolmaster was a duelist at one time," Dalliance said. "His daughter showed me how to block correctly."

  Sort of.

  "Well," said Ronan, with a waffling shake of his hand, side to side, "as well as one can without the strength of arm to oppose the blow. No matter how hard I strike, a correctly angled sword laid flat against the body has more solidity than I have in my arm. But bracing a block against the body risks me missing your sword altogether and simply striking you. Which," he said, "I have an intuition is not a problem for you personally."

  Dalliance shrugged. He didn’t want to lay all his cards on the table, but it would have been difficult to miss.

  "We can work harder," Ronan said. "Yes," he said to the two of them, "I believe we can make this work."

  And after a tasty lunch, the three of them went to the first iteration of a routine which would last for months.