Chapter 11

"Where is Edlen?"

They didn't seem to hear him. Otherwise, they were intentionally ignoring him.

Undoubtedly, it was the latter.

Micah watched Cain and Viktor fly hurriedly across their side of the room, stuffing things haphazardly into their school bags. Both their uniforms were askew, and while that was nothing new for Viktor, whom apparently favored the unkempt and nonchalant aristocratic appearance, the prim and proper Cain seemed just as disheveled. Almost as if they were in a hurry to avoid Micah completely….

Next to Micah, Keegan shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think they heard you, Micah."

Under the watchful eye of Aiden and Keegan, Micah crossed the room and abruptly cut off Viktor and Cain as they tried to exit their quarters. He appraised the two Unda cadets, sensing their awkwardness.

"Where," Micah started icily, "is Kai Edlen?"

Cain and Viktor glanced at one another.

"Probably at breakfast," Cain, the largest first-year cadet, responded with a low, baritone voice. "With Wayde."

Micah frowned. "Is that what this technique is all about? Do all four of you stick together in pairs or in a group? Do you believe it will prevent me from approaching any of you?"

Viktor ran a hand through his short, messy hair. It looked ridiculous standing on end, entirely disarrayed.

"We just really need to get to class. We slept in late—"

"Class doesn't start until eight," Micah interrupted tightly. "You have thirty minutes remaining before the first bell."

"We haven't eaten."

Shaking his head, bitterly amused, Micah stepped aside to allow the juvenile duo to pass. "If you see Edlen, which I imagine you will, let him know we are training tonight. We need to start working together as a team. It is imperative we learn each other's strengths and weaknesses."

"He has an appointment tonight with his father," Viktor yelled over his shoulder on their way out the door.

Micah stared after them.

Speechless.

"Perhaps you should give them a week to adjust, Captain," Talia muttered indifferently as she breezed by him. She fastened her tie around her neck, her book bag dangling clumsily from her elbow. "They have to lick their wounds before they can play nice. You'll see." With that, she departed their quarters just as abruptly as Cain and Viktor.

When Talia meant 'they' had to lick their wounds, Micah hadn't realized she meant all the aristocrats at the academy, not just the nobles on his team.

That morning, exactly a day after the trials, he walked down the corridors and endured the concentrated attention from the other students.

Keegan and Aiden both grabbed a quick bite to eat before they attended their first class. Micah, who normally did not care to eat breakfast, chose to venture out by himself. Never one to fret over the frivolous sentiment of needing a companion in a sea of predators, Micah hadn't worried about walking the halls alone.

He still didn't. Yet it was painfully evident that he'd incurred the instant recognition from the rest of the academy, even those who did not observe the final trial. Familiar with attention, but not to such a degree, Micah forced himself to remain deadpanned.

It took effort. Especially towards the nobles who levelled him with looks of animosity.

He'd humiliated one of their own.

Their reaction was fair and expected. It was just difficult to keep his own scorn from showing.

In his pocket, he carried the list of his six courses. The six courses Josiah selected for him. Upon thinking of his half-uncle, Micah turned bitter and forced himself to consider the upcoming courses instead. Economic Policy was his first class of the day. He anticipated there would be several upper-class cadets attending the same seminar as opposed to first years.

While Keegan was scholarly brilliant, the education in Region 20 was, admittedly, dismissal. The other boy played it safe with his selection of courses this term. Unlike Micah, whom Josiah cryptically indicated would not spend all three years at the academy, Keegan planned to attend until graduation. The other boy wanted to know everything he'd missed growing up in the outskirt regions in order to establish a respected instructor position in the future.

Micah knew Keegan would have succeeded in advanced courses.

Perhaps he could convince the boy to sign up for more challenging courses next term.

"Congratulations on making the gold team, Captain Egan," one cadet called to his back.

Turning, he spied a passing Igni student. He nodded once in acknowledgment, though the Igni man did not stay and chat. The two other cadets, who accompanied the third-year student, were also of Igni descent. Their glances towards Micah were heavy with fond appraisal.

He knew the consequences of his actions yesterday. He knew, once he humiliated Kai in retaliation, that there would be reactions. He understood there would be cries of outrage amongst the Unda elite and nods of approval from the Igni citizens. Just his brief commute down the corridors relayed as much.

Before he entered the economics classroom, someone stepped in front of him, dwarfing him and easily blocking his way. Micah was of average height for an Igni male, almost equal height with Josiah, yet the man across from him was abnormal.

He looked into the eyes of cruel blue.

"So you aren't entirely Igni, are you?" the cadet remarked, scrutinizing Micah's attractive features. "They said you were a desert rat, but there are obvious superior traits in you."

Superior traits…

"Race is irrelevant when it comes to superiority," Micah responded promptly. "I am a desert rat. And I was superior in the competitions that established first-ranking cadet."

"You better watch yourself, boy."

The number of bars on his uniform indicated his seniority. At least a third-year, and, according to the medals, honored with his skill. As much as Micah wanted to be intimidated, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed for the other man. Such schoolyard bullying tactics were underwhelming to Micah. Hardly effective.

"You may be biracial, but you have declared your loyalty to the Igni side." A smile, not particularly attractive, stretched the other man's chapped lips. "And the Unda elite have declared you their enemy."

"I think that should suffice for a reprimand," a voice interrupted the strained confrontation between Micah and the nameless Unda cadet. "A reprimand that doesn't even belong to you, I should say."

Turning, Micah spied Wayde—one of Kai Edlen's teammates— standing solitarily to the side.

In his palm, he clutched a rather large, gourmet-looking muffin. His stance was picturesque of a model aristocrat. Straight, taut, yet somehow entirely graceful with his long, remarkably skinny limbs. His hair, a sharp contrast to his two teammates this morning, gathered neatly at the nape of his neck where he collected it in a low-slung ponytail. He had rather wide eyes, Micah noted. Blue—just like any other Unda noble—yet somehow prettier in their calamity.

"Wayde—"

"His uniform," Wayde interrupted, not once looking in Micah's direction. "Is the same as yours, is it not?" Without waiting for a reply, Wayde continued. "As such, you are both on the same side. Perhaps it's time to reunite with the rest of our comrades and realize we are fighting for the same thing. The security and safety of Concordia."

The older cadet and Wayde stared each other down.

Micah wasn't especially pleased someone thought it necessary to fight his battles. However, he remained passive, entertained with Wayde's diplomacy. He certainly hadn't expected such common sense to spew from a noble's mouth.

The unnamed cadet scoffed. "So much for trying to defend our own kind."

"As I said, the handling of this situation doesn't belong to you, but rather to Kai."

"Edlen handled it well, didn't he? Joining teams? That will show them," the third-year cadet spat with disgust, his lip curling excessively for embellishment. Without remarking further, the man turned his heel and entered the classroom with his peers.

Micah looked after the group, hardly threatened when they all turned to gaze at him with unbridled dislike.

"Let me make one thing clear, Egan," Wayde started, drawing Micah's attention. He didn't appear especially happy with his decision to defend a desert rat in front of the other aristocrats. "I will always—always—be loyal to Kai."

"I hadn't realized that was ever in question," Micah drawled wryly.

Ignoring his sarcastic tone, Wayde stepped closer, his tall, long-limbed stature all but looming over Micah. "Kai joined teams with you for a reason. As such, you are a member of my team and I won't stand by and watch them tear you apart."

A bit of an exaggeration, Micah mused, but decided to hold his tongue.

Wayde's hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and placed something in his hand. "Don't skip breakfast, yeah?"

Looking down, Micah spied the muffin. As he looked up, he observed Wayde entering the classroom. He immediately noticed the blue, satin ribbon that held his hair together at the nape of his neck. Ridiculous and flamboyant— not many noblemen chose to secure their hair in such a way. It just fit Wayde's overall impression.

Dainty.

Pretty.

An exasperated scoff escaped Micah's lips as he also entered the classroom.

He passed the front of the room and ventured near the back, settling next to a dark-haired boy who hunched over an open book. Ten minutes remained before the start of class, so Micah amused himself with examining the students who entered the room. Placing his muffin at the corner of his desk, he immediately took notice of the cadets' dilemma of where to sit.

Was it wrong of him to find it so entertaining?

Those who made a move to sit next to Micah paused upon noticing him, before hurriedly retreating to the front of the room.

"I hadn't realized a mutt like you could cause such a segregation," the boy next to him murmured to his book. "Further segregation than what existed before, of course."

Micah studied the third year. Long bangs fell over his eyes as he continued to peer exclusively at his book. Upon first glance, Micah had assumed he was an Igni student. The dark hair indicated desert region, yet, the boy's skin was very pale.

As the student looked up, Micah found himself staring into dark blue eyes.

A biracial student… the first Micah had encountered.

"I have to say, if anyone can create a stir amongst the nobles, it's you," the cadet continued. "You have extremely impressive swordsmanship. During the war, my father was an Igni warrior. He had high praise for your duel yesterday." The boy flashed a soft, fond look before he looked pointedly at the other students. "I believe the noblemen are so insulted because you are biracial and had the audacity to pick the inferior race over them."

By unveiling Micah's true features, those were exactly Josiah's intentions.

When he registered the boy's comment, Micah immediately tensed. "In their eyes, the Igni people may be the inferior race."

The other boy frowned. "But they are inferior. Always have been."

Micah cast him a cold look and turned his cheek. "Then you are ignorant."

"Or perhaps it's you who is naïve and ill-informed," the other cadet countered stubbornly. "The Igni Empire was constantly full of poverty and riffraff. What you see in the outer regions is probably what the whole Empire resembled at their height."

The instructor strode into the classroom, immediately quieting the students.

As he began taking roll call, Micah dwelled in contemplative silence, wondering why the cadet's words got under his skin. Even if the words were true, it still didn't explain the discrimination. It didn't change the deplorable way the Igni people were treated in their new kingdom after the war. It did not make them inferior.

Micah tucked the information away to ponder later.

It was time to focus on his studies.

* * * *

"Instructor Isla?"

Surprised, Isla looked up from sorting through the contents across his desk and immediately smiled once he saw Micah.

He nodded once to himself, as if privately coming to an agreeable conclusion in his head. However, to be fair, Instructor Isla nodded to himself quite frequently during lectures. Micah noticed the impulse a week ago when classes began, wondering if it was a result of nervousness or simply a tick he'd possessed since adolescence.

"Cadet Egan," Isla greeted pleasantly in turn. Gathering a stack of parchments, he placed them in his leather bag. "What can I do for you?"

The students who filed out of the classroom offered them lingering stares. Brows rose and the stares grew icy, envious. Micah enjoyed establishing a good relationship with his instructors, impressed with their intelligence and ability to pass said knowledge on to the students with engaging techniques.

Concordia Academy boasted they had elite instructors. Micah pleasantly discovered that was no small boast.

As such, he was engaged in his classes. He paid close attention to the instructors and volunteered readily when the situation arose. Typically, his answers were often times sophisticated, drawing the immediate ire of his fellow cadets and fond approval from his instructors.

Micah identified his classmates' irritation, but cared little for the envy.

He was here to make himself better, not dumb down for others.

"When you circulated the syllabus on the first day of class, I looked forward to the alternative forms of government you outlined," Micah started. He gazed down at the mentioned syllabus, wrinkling it with his gloved fingers. "The Terra Kingdom and the Eurus Empire. I was pleased to see it a topic so early in the term."

As if anticipating where the conversation was going, Instructor Isla looked down and away, busying himself once again with packing up his things. He gave off the impression of cold disinterest, though Micah was hardly bothered by the act.

"So far, your lessons have been greatly informative and detailed," Micah continued without any sort of hesitancy. He knew what this was about, but he wanted to hear it from Isla. "Yet, when we broached the topic of the Terra Kingdom and the Eurus Empire, your methods turned extremely vague and simple. Very basic."

At the mention of Concordia's neighbors to the west and east, Isla stiffened.

He glanced at the door of his classroom, before refocusing on Micah. "Those topics were meant to be vague and simple, Mr. Egan."

"Democracy intrigues me," Micah pressed insistently, citing the reason behind his extreme interest. "The Terra Kingdom holds a unique, democratic government, I read. Not much is known about them—"

"And rightfully so," Isla interrupted quietly. "They keep to themselves."

The Terra Kingdom settled to the west of Concordia and boasted earth Elementals. Micah couldn't find much information on the kingdom besides the fact that nature integrated deeply within their culture.

"They keep to themselves? Or do we stifle the information?"

Isla smiled uncomfortably before fastening his bag. "I'd say a little bit of both, Mr. Egan. Today, we learned the negatives of each governmental structure. We learned why democracy has its shortcomings. We learned why the High Priests in the Eurus Empire would never function well in our capital. Yet, which governmental structure did I miss?"

"Monarchy," Micah replied softly. "Intentional on your behalf."

"Exactly." Isla nodded firmly.

"You also intentionally bypassed the positives to each governmental structure."

"What would you anticipate being a negative to a monarchy, Mr. Egan?"

"Repression and censorship." Micah shifted until his hip leaned against the instructor's massive desk. "It's understandable why you evaded the benefits of the High Priests and democracy. Understandable, yet also disappointing."

A flicker of a tense smile followed by an even tenser laugh. "I do not only have eager ears ready to absorb my teachings, but also eager ears ready to report back to the royal court if I inspire any sort of rebellion by suggesting I support any other government than the crown."

Micah frowned, understanding Isla's apprehension. He could certainly see the children of high nobles reporting to their fathers if such an event arose. "A pity one would consider history on governmental bodies as indication you support some sort of rebellion against monarchy. It reinforces my belief that royalty would like to keep their people stunted and repressed. Blindfolded."

Another nod.

Then another.

Micah watched as Isla struggled to control his impulsive nodding. He observed the situation unabashedly, wondering if he'd caused the nervous tick.

Isla turned his shoulder on Micah, trying to recover himself. He ran a hand through his short, greying blond hair. Micah found it fascinating that the scholars of the capital typically wore their hair short, as opposed to the young men and warriors who kept it long for status.

"C-careful, Mr. E-egan," he cautioned with a stutter. "I was once like you." After recovering, Isla turned back around to offer a genuine smile. "Too smart for my own good. I thought I was the only one with my eyes wide open. Only, I had a colleague I was very close with who spoke too openly at one of her lectures. She disappeared from the academy the next day. I learned my place and I hope you can caution your own tongue."

Micah frowned. "It's unfortunate it has to be that way."

Isla picked up his bag and moved away from his desk. "It has been this way for several regimes, Cadet Egan. No government is perfect. They all have their own, individual flaws." He approached Micah and placed a hand on his shoulder. "But there may be a reason why the Terra Kingdom has had decades of peaceful accord."

"Democracy?"

"One can never truly know," Isla replied quietly. "The only way to understand how the Terra Kingdom operates is to experience it for oneself. You won't find it in books."

"Not many are welcome in their territory."

"On the contrary," Isla murmured, "They welcome all, yet visitors are closely scrutinized. They do not trust us and we do not trust them."

Isla patted him on the shoulder before turning to leave the empty classroom.

Micah slowly filed after him, his mind petulant.

Calder and the dozens of kings before him did a very impressive job censoring the kingdom. It was no wonder there was little change in the capital. Monarch rule was all encompassing. They refused to allow their people to study the neighboring kingdoms in depth, afraid it would spur differing views and rebellions.

Micah had been especially interested in learning more about the Terra Kingdom. They did something right. Whether it was their governing body or something else entirely, Micah would never know without seeing it for himself.

That was probably something he'd never have the chance to do.

Passing the dining hall, Micah ventured into the lower levels of the academy. He'd already eaten dinner before his evening class and now made his way to the training rooms where the rest of the team gathered.

Just as Talia had suggested, Micah had given the nobles a week—nearly two—to lick their bruised egos and regather their pride. Fortunately, during the past week and a half, Micah had been busy with avoiding Josiah, his demanding class schedule, and subsequent homework assignments. He hardly had time to dwell over Kai Edlen's continued elusive ways.

Advanced courses certainly lived up to their name. The material was intensive and the homework was challenging. His most demanding class, Psychology and Economics of Beliefs, required at least two hours of work each night. Eventually, once Micah got into a rhythm, he refocused on training.

Sachiel nor Josiah had approached him about individual lessons. Figuring the first man was busy at the palace, and the latter man amused by Micah's intentional avoidance, he focused on the training of his own team. While the cadets had sword combat during the day, it was one thing to be good at wielding a sword and another to work well with a team. He'd asked Wayde that morning to deliver a message to Edlen.

They were to meet in one of the training rooms for a session that evening.

Glancing at a wall clock, Micah acknowledged he was a few minutes late. No matter, at least they would all be in one place at the same time. He hadn't seen such an occurrence since the day Sachiel made them select their teammates in the arena.

As he opened the door to their assigned training room, he balked.

Keegan and Aiden were on the mats, boots and socks abandoned against the wall. Keegan had Aiden in a headlock. The smaller man flailed his arms, his face entirely red and swollen from the pressure around his throat. Their swords lay forgotten a distance away, clearly not holding their attentions.

No one else occupied the room.

Keegan abruptly dropped Aiden. "Micah!"

"Where are the others?" Micah demanded stonily.

Keegan laughed tensely and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but they aren't coming. Only Talia showed up and she left a bit ago."

"That's not stating the obvious," Aiden muttered as he struggled to his feet. He lunged at Keegan, who easily jumped away from the assault.

"Where did Talia go?"

"Dunno," Keegan panted, keeping his eyes on Aiden. He jerked in the direction Aiden feigned and chuckled under his breath for falling for it. At his sides, his hands clenched. "She said something about getting proper training done."

Micah stared at the two idiots, wondering why he even bothered.

Turning, he left the room and walked the halls of the training wing.

It took several failed attempts of finding Talia. He walked in on several team practices before finally locating her in the smallest training chamber. She was the sole occupant of the brightly lit room. Stripped from her school uniform, she performed an array of sword techniques in front of a floor to ceiling mirror. Her jaw clenched noticeably when Micah invited himself inside, yet she made no move to stop her exercises.

He stopped directly behind her. "I had to speak to one of my instructors. I apologize for being late."

Talia grunted. "Doesn't matter anyway, does it? The others didn't show up." Sweat glistened off her collarbone and haloed her forehead. Clearly, she'd been working hard, eager to better herself.

Micah found he respected her for that.

"Do you know why they didn't show up?"

She frowned at her reflection before clearing it away with a mask of impressive stoicism. "To be honest, I have separated myself from them after the trials. It only took several occurrences for me to finally realize they were trying to ostracize and criticize me."

"Criticize you because they felt threatened by a female stronger than them."

Dropping her sword by her side, she turned and faced Micah. "I was an idiot."

"For?"

She looked down at her training trousers and combat boots. "For trying so hard to fit in where I don't belong." Dark eyes caught and held Micah's stare. "When you came around, you bucked traditions and stereotypes. It was…" She made a face. "Inspiring." Without another word, she turned a slim shoulder on him and raised her sword to resume her exercises.

Micah observed her with a small smile. She executed ironic elegance and practiced poise for one who turned into a spitfire during battle. "My, that will probably be the first and last time you compliment me."

"Most likely," Talia replied assuredly. "Not something you should get used to."

"Would you happen to know where Edlen is?"

With her knees bent and her sword positioned over her head, Talia stiffened and met Micah's eyes through the mirror. "I may," she replied tentatively. "Are you planning on confronting him about his lack of spine?"

"I may," Micah mimicked her earlier ambiguity.

Talia straightened once again. "I'll tell you only if you bring me with."

"A bit of a sadist, aren't you?"

She smiled tightly. "You have no idea."

Grabbing her jacket and shouldering on her holster, she sheathed her sword and pushed past Micah on her way out the door. Amused, he followed her down the corridors. He admired the way she walked. It was a self-confident, yet angry strut. For such a small thing, she certainly knew how to carry herself.

"He typically visits Nereus in his rooms."

"You mean hides in Nereus' rooms," Micah contradicted.

Talia glanced at Micah from over her shoulder. "No." Turning back around, she led him toward the first-year wing. "Nereus' father, Muriel Edlen, has opted to invest some money into Nereus' living quarters. The silver team has quite the accommodations and it attracts several nobles from all years."

Micah could only imagine what he was about to walk into.

As Talia opened the door, uninvited to the silver team's quarters, Micah's assumptions proved accurate. The room was ridiculously extravagant. Military quarters couldn't quite describe the inside of the room. Tapestries, chairs with expensive upholstery, and tables with gleaming polish all fit inside the room. Somehow, the room appeared larger than what the gold team possessed, who only had bunkbeds as furnishings.

Several men occupied the room. All blond men.

The smell of liquor was strong; the smell of cigars was stronger.

Micah stared in disbelief, in disgust. He really couldn't believe it. The sound of laughter and conversation quieted as Talia and Micah entered. All eyes turned in their direction. Through the haze of the cigar smoke, Micah discerned Kai Edlen sitting next to his cousin and Wayde. Further in the room, a distance away, sat Viktor and Cain.

"Talia Bay!" a young man called with appreciation. "You look radiant tonight."

"Must be the sweat," Talia replied ominously. "That's what usually happens when you exert yourself in training, Myers. Something you probably will never experience."

"Why did you have to bring the cur, Bay?"

Cur. With the increase of biracial children, there was bound to be a derogatory name to rise from the ashes. The term cur extended from hounds. Dogs. Mutts who were unattractive, inferior, and mixed breed. Someone had the notion to insult biracial humans the same way. Talia appeared aghast with a look in Micah's direction, though he hardly reacted as he stepped further into the room.

Such names were meaningless to him. No matter if it was derogatory or not, all that mattered was how he reacted to it.

"Nice, cozy accommodations, Edlen," Micah praised, lingering near the table where Wayde and the two Edlens sat. Several upper-classmen also lingered around the room. He could not identify them by name, but he'd seen a few in his classes.

Fortunately, Ladon—his half-brother— was not inside the rooms.

"What are you doing in here, Egan?" Kai demanded lazily. His eyes were a half-lidded. Perhaps he wasn't drunk, but buzzed enough to loosen his tongue and make him look ridiculous to sober observers.

"Seeing what my team thought more important than training."

Here, he looked at Viktor and Cain. Both men had the audacity to look away, guilty and a bit embarrassed over the implications. Considering the two cadets were sitting a distance away from the tables, it appeared as they were not important enough to sit next to Nereus and Kai Edlen. Wayde, though.

Micah observed the way Wayde hovered and stifled Kai. The two were inseparable. They tried to act nonchalant about their friendship, as most nobles were not clingy, yet the two men were especially close, it appeared. He wondered if the friendship was politically driven.

"We're prepared enough," Kai replied.

"Oh?" Here, Micah looked pointedly at Wayde, remembering his unimpressive performance during one of his duels. "From my position, it appears as if there could be more work done to improve our… weak spots."

Wayde grimaced.

Kai stood up in defense of Wayde. "Egan, you're not welcome here. Get out."

"Come now, Kai. Where are your manners?" Nereus intervened smoothly, forcing his cousin to sit back down. "Let the poor boy stay. Sucking off the instructors all week must exhaust him. Pour the man a drink."

Talia shifted. "Maybe we should go," she whispered to him, clearly appalled.

"Is that how you manage to skirt by, Nereus?" Micah inquired innocently as he ignored Talia's obvious air of discomfort. "Taking a dick in the mouth? I suppose we all have to be good at something to succeed in life. I just never assumed, with your impressive arithmetic skills, that you'd take that route."

Chortles sounded across the room. Evidently, they all knew how poorly Nereus performed in mathematics.

"I'm not the one who has his nose halfway up their asses, Egan," Nereus shot back.

"Jealousy never does look good on nobility," Micah murmured.

Nereus flushed an ugly pink. "As if I would be jealous of a half breed."

"No, I don't suppose you would be." Miah made a show of looking around their quarters. "Not when daddy takes care of everything from your grades to the pretty little furnishings in your military quarters."

"That's quite enough," Kai interrupted as Nereus opened his mouth with an immediate insult. "It's the start of the weekend, Egan. I'd already made plans tonight when Wayde delivered your message."

Next to Edlen, Wayde appeared genuinely uncomfortable. He glanced once at Micah before looking back down at his tumbler. In addition to Viktor and Cain's repentant expressions, it appeared as if Kai's followers weren't as passionate about the purposeful avoidance as their leader. Micah would never get them to turn from Edlen, however. He knew, while they did not necessarily agree with Kai's methods, that they were entirely loyal to their comrade.

"Tomorrow then," Micah said.

"Make that Sunday."

Murmurs of appreciation sounded throughout the room as Kai put Micah in his place.

Aware of Talia's sharp regard, Micah simply smiled and cocked his head to the side. "Whatever works in your busy, time-consuming schedule, Mr. Edlen." He turned his heel and approached the door. "Just know that if things go wrong with the team, it's on your hands. I've done my part."

Ridicules spread from noble to noble as Micah exited the room. He paid them no heed as he slammed the door behind him.

Immediately, he incurred Talia's look of disappointment. "What did you expect to happen, Talia?"

"He's in a pissing match with you," she informed unhappily. "You let him win."

"I let him win?" Micah repeated dubiously. "This is not a pissing match." He walked down the corridor, towards their own quarters. A second later, he realized that Talia did not accompany him. Turning, he sought her figure in the dark corridor. "This is about Edlen trying to reconcile with his noble allies."

"Whatever it was, you could have done better."

Without another word, Talia stalked down the opposite corridor. Micah considered her silhouette, bemused. He didn't understand what she'd wanted from him. A showdown? A duel? Some sort of verbal sparring match?

It hadn't mattered.

Kai and the others missed training on Sunday anyway.