Chương 189: Chapter 210: Invitation

I met Enefiat Trazom outside, for the walk to the music hall.

"Afternoon," I said noncommittally. Inasmuch as it is ever any time of day inside a cave lit by gleaming geodes and magic candles, with artificial weather from off-duty wizards.

"Quite," he said. He walked, and I fell in beside him. It feels more comfortable. Sometimes, a behavior like this is presumptuous, the arrogant assumption that I will be where he expects me and that I will walk with him at his pace. And don't get me wrong, he really can be very presumptuous. But we've had times together, put in the hours, paid the dues. And now what had been presumptuous was now just comfortable. Something we could both expect from each other.

"Thanks again for staying at the station to wait for me," I said.

"It meant a lot to me." Being there for me at times like that is one of the best ways to turn presumption into nonchalance. He had paid those dues.

"You're quite welcome." He gestured a bit of 'oh it's nothing' but that's just what people do. It was a false modesty, and that's okay. If he's feeling good about it but deferring politely, he understands the impact. If he was genuinely nonchalant about it, I would feel like it devalued my feelings as well.

"And... thanks for all your help at the crime scene. I don't have the kind of clout or sympathy to move a crowd that big that fast. I might have stayed in jail for a few more days or weeks if you hadn't been there waving my banner." Of all the people I could have had at my side, Trazom was the best for that occasion. He's charming, personable, and persuasive. He's also widely-loved and extremely famous. He can turn public opinion on a dime if he needs to, and that was exactly what I needed at the time.

Emotionally available and also pragmatically useful.

"I am sorry you could not move them yourself," he said graciously.

"You were quite correct. What you said at the time was accurate. All I did was to commit the gravest sin a swain can perform: I took what you said, and just repeated it louder so more people would pay attention. Unforgiveable of me, really." He is much better at dry humor than I am, I had to glance at his face to make sure he was messing with me. We both let ourselves have a laugh there, and at the end of it my arm was linked in his. I shook my head.

"Did you know that Nathan tried to take credit?"

"Credit? How so?" He never seems to lose his decorum or gravitas when he's confused. His confused face doesn't have that dopey look that most people do.

"He claimed it was his plan that I be accused and beat the charges just so that I am officially innocent before Fashion Week started. All the work you and I did to get me out, all the favors we called in and the pressure we exerted to beat that challenge, and he just casually mentioned that it was all according to his plan." A short silence as The Famous considered this angle.

"I feel I am best served not holding my own opinion in this matter." An elegant way of telling me that he does not care about the argument I'm having in my mind. Or at least he's not going to get roped into it. I'm not letting it go that easily.

"Damned thing of it is... sometimes he really is definitely helping me. Bruce confirmed that Nathan's report was entirely accurate, and that Nathan definitely got more information out of Gharie than anyone else could have. We've got important clues we would not have without him. It puts a real crimp in my plans to never trust him." He gave me a moment to seethe through this, then cleared his throat.

"You really must understand that I've no enmity to your brother and no desire to put myself between the two of you." I wanted to snap, demand that he support me and tell me I'm right and Nathan's wrong. I wanted to keep arguing and convince him. But his strained dignity was covering something. Not annoyance or boredom, he was not simply tired of hearing me talk about this. It pained him to see the two of us at odds.

He actively did not want me to discuss a feud with my brother, he did not want to even acknowledge a feud between us. Trazom grew up with an uncompromising taskmaster of a father who demanded he become the best cellist in the world, and then elected himself as his son's agent and manager. Enefiat Trazom had been on the road touring with his father almost his whole life. No siblings, no mother. No contact with extended family, no roots. I have seen the way he throws himself into any outing with my friends.

He is starved for lasting, persistent connections. Odds are that he would kill to have a twin sibling. It's hard to face the realization that you are squandering someone else's dream.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. It's been a big day for me making apologies.

"What I mean to focus on, is that you were there. And that means a lot to me. And thank you."

"You know how you could really thank me?" he said, casting a sidelong look my way. Instantly my stomach is roiling at this. Please don't say anything that's going to make me hate you...

"What?" I said. I kept my tone pleasant and easy. Internally I was cringing in half.

"If you would shorten up that breath after the bridge. You're still dropping an eighth behind and it mars the harmony for the whole stanza." Oh thank god. It's always a gamble around teenaged boys. Especially when you're already angling for a relationship. Year one of the school is "get to know you" arcs for all the love interests. Year two is "more than friends". Year three, "getting serious".

After that, you should be down to just one or two love interests and working to bring a good ending with them in years four and five. I've been following this script so far. I'm getting nervous at the end of Year One, because we're about to start hitting the "more than friends" quest objectives. And I just really don't feel ready.

"Enefiat?" I said, keeping my tone clear.

"Yes?"

"I don't feel like I'm ready for some of the things my life is going to bring me soon. There's lots of things that scare me, you know. Some normal and universal, some are the kind of unlikely shenanigans that could only happen to me and my brother. And I don't respond well to being scared. Defensive doesn't look good on me. I'm sorry for trying to drag you into my irritation, it was unfounded and unfair."

"Vulnerable looks better on you, but I understand why you don't wear it very often."

"Yeah," I said with regret.

"The sad fact is that I do have actual enemies and some of them are here in this school, and I can ill-afford to look weak in front of many people. You're on a very short list."

"What do you do about being scared?" he asked.

"Usually I just power through. Do it scared."

"That sounds awful. Courage is a curse."

"What do you do when you're afraid, Enefiat?"

"I run and hide."

"I expected you to say that you just go back to your music."

"Where do you think I run? Where do I hide?" Funny thing. Vulnerable looks good on him too. Kind of sweet and endearing, to be trusted with that side of him. We walked silent for a few steps, gravel crunching. Early in the year I dismissed him as a one-note personality. That he reduced everything to terms reflecting his music. He was never in danger of evoking any complicated emotions. His fame was a tool I could use. Things have gotten twisted over time.

I decided to help him learn to be happy with a broader life, and now he's made himself more real to me. More sympathetic. I told him I was scared, and he turned it right back around on me. One of those things that scares me is getting actually emotionally attached to the Antagonist Love Interests. Half of them are obvious trash-fires and the rest feel like they're just less obvious. I don't think that the Rival gets offered a broad selection of nice people to have earnest romances with.

I think that maybe being opposed to the protagonist means that I'm committed to choosing among toxic, tragic, terrible choices. Maybe there's only enough power of true love for one of the Harigold siblings. There's a war that I'm scared of. Disasters. Public speaking, lots of that. Assassinations, all kinds of difficulties. But those I know what to do about. I've got a plan.

But if I was planning to stay cold and unaffected by the love interests while I'm manipulating my way through their quests, that plan is failing.

"Hi Thumper." What a segue.

"Hi Natalie. There's no more landscaping to do, sorry."

"I know," I said.

"The schedule shows the team spending today clearing and cleaning our locker room for the whole period. Supposed to scrub and wipe and sweep until it gleams."

"So why aren't you there scrubbing?" she asked me, leaning herself back against the equipment shed. She folded her arms nonchalantly like she was not aware of how good her arms look. I pulled my feet up to sit cross-legged in the air, my skirts tucked up underneath me. I can do nonchalant too.

"Job's done. Took like ninety seconds," I said, airily. No big deal, of course.

"You used magic to cheat?"

"And I'm gonna keep doing it until I find a better way to cheat," I vowed, suddenly serious and stern. She laughed at that, and I could see her carefully queuing up to say something she's rehearsed. I held my tongue and let her find her own way. With a deep breath, she started.

"So, as you know, first-year fencing students aren't allowed to compete in any city tournaments or meets-""No, I didn't know that," I said. Shit, I was supposed to let her talk. I gestured for her to continue.

"And, uh, I thought it would be nice to have someone in the stands. Cheering for me, you know?" Her smile was shy and tentative and so damn charming.

"Of course I'd be happy to," I said.

"I did not realize this was a possibility, or I would have offered!" Now obviously she's going to have fans cheering for her. How can she not? Team captain of the Hearstcliff Academy fencing team, as a freshman. She is also terrifyingly good; only a handful of people can challenge her as a fencer. And that's challenge, not defeat. For Clash Atland to defeat her she would have needed Nathan's help with several quests tailored to her abilities, and she's damn near as good as it gets.

But just because she is obviously going to have a huge cheering section anyway does not mean that she wouldn't want someone specific to be present. Gosh when did my cheeks get so hot?

"Only fair after all," I went on to say, keeping my momentum, keeping my composure, "You've been one of the most regular spectators at my camogie matches." And it's true, too. Very few of my other love interests have ever arrived to watch a practice or a match, but I've gotten used to seeing Thumper yelling and waving from the sidelines.

I don't think that public displays of brutal violence in the name of athletic competition and spectator entertainment is something that any of my other romantic opportunities enjoy. Most of them are either too uncomfortable with real violence, or too jaded by death and slaughter. But Thumper could cheer for me and make it feel normal. Her lips twitched and her eyes gleamed.

"Every time it didn't conflict with my meets or contests."

"I thought that was it," I said, nodding.

"Thank you for coming out for me, and I look forward to seeing you as well at your fencing meets." I leaned back in the air, folding my arms behind my head like I was lazing back on a pillow. The air supported me like cushions.

"That looks really comfortable," she chuckled. I nodded.

"It is now. Hundreds of hours of practice. Early on my flight was just standing on a block of hardened air and moving it around. It's got a lot more finesse now, layering textures and effects to get results. It's just like everything else in life, it comes down to execution." She arched an eyebrow.

"Everything? Really? Most sweeping statements are easily proven untrue." Her tone was teasing, trying to bait me out of the serious tone of our talk so far. I was willing to be baited.

"And by most, you mean that some are true. And everything comes down to execution."

"In theory there's a lot more than that."

"Really not," I rebutted.

"Theory depends on execution more than almost anything else."

"Well, in theory it doesn't," she quipped.

"Theory always posits a perfect execution. There is almost nothing as dependent on execution as theory." She recrossed her arms in a huff.

"Dammit. Why couldn't we have you on the debate team?!"

"Because I've got music, sorcery, and invention classes, and I need all three of those. Also, because nobody has ever in my life encouraged me to argue more than I already do," I had to laugh a little.

"Why am I just now finding out you're on the debate team?"

"I don't talk about it much. I use debate to work out my aggressions, I can get kind of intense about it." Her hobby is stabbing people and she uses debate to work out aggressions. People will surprise you.

"I really should ask more questions about you," I said nonchalantly.

"You are quite fascinating."

"Well, I could still urge you into debate," she countered.

"It's fun, it's interesting. And, you know, it's probably good career training for you, since you're a lawyer and all."

"Miscalculation. My music recitals train me for public performance and that's what lawyering in Hearstcliff is all about." On the surface. For the public. In reality the results were always fixed in advance, in a complicated web of deals and boons, leverage and clout. Being performative and flashy are good for getting those deals and leverage, but it's not enough on its own.

"Really? That's not what I hear. We get a lot of guest lecturers and one-off seminars, and a lot of our speakers are barristers, solicitors and judges. I've actually gotten to chatting with a good number of them, they're surprisingly fun to talk to, especially the second or third time I run into them." A new quest checkpoint appeared and dispensed some new XP for me. So, Thumper just happens to have a conversational acquaintance with several local judges? So that's another aspect of [The Access], I suppose.

And now I start forming plans around this.