Cecily left to change out of her expensive gambeson, now stained. Once she disappeared from view, Lynne turned to me with a smile. “What have you eaten today?” I knew what would happen the moment I admitted I hadn’t eaten anything. She would rush off, spend her own money, and return carrying enough food for three people. I didn’t know why, but having her run around serving me made me uncomfortable. I briefly considered telling her I had already eaten, but guilt crushed the thought almost immediately. I had promised her, what, two seconds ago that I wouldn’t lie to her? Still, I didn’t want her spending her own money on food I could get myself. Lynne tilted her head. Apparently, I had been thinking for too long. “I can get something when I’m hungry.” Her expression changed. It was subtle. Her smile remained, but her eyes sharpened as if she could see straight through me. “What did you eat?” I sighed. “Nothing yet.” She rose from the bench. I knew it. Before she could hurry away, I lunged forward and caught her by the wrist. “It’s okay. I can get something later.” The movement brought me halfway to my feet. Lynne immediately turned around and guided me back onto the bench as if I had attempted to leap from a moving train. “I would rather you not walk around on your injured leg.” “And I’d rather you not go running all over the academy for my sake.” “I don’t mind. It is no grief to me.” “Well, it grieves me.” She laughed, probably because of the way I had said grieves. “If you remain still and eat proper meals, you will be able to run around sooner rather than later.” “I can run around now.” Lynne looked down at my leg. Then she looked back at me. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. “Fine,” I muttered. “Stay here. I shall return shortly.” She tried to step away. I was still holding her wrist. “Wait. If you’re going to do this, at least use my nametag to pay.” I removed it and held it out to her. She stared at the tag, then at me. “Why?” “The Headmaster said the academy is covering my meals. I don’t want you paying for mine as well.” “Oh.” Lynne laughed. “Is that what concerned you?” “I mean, that’s one of several things.” “There is no need to concern yourself with the expense. The Crown provides my family with a rather generous allowance.” She lifted both hands to present her own nametag. The lettering shimmered beneath the sunlight. Her last name, Daniels, flashed gold across its surface. “I could not spend the full sum myself no matter how earnestly I tried,” she continued. “It would be wasteful not to make use of it.” I looked up at her. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I had only been thinking it. The question escaped before I realized I had spoken aloud. Lynne tilted her head, looking genuinely confused by the question. Then her expression softened. “You speak as though no one has ever treated you with kindness before.” “I mean, I can only remember the last three days.” Her smile faltered. For a moment, she looked as though she had forgotten that my lack of memory wasn’t some joke I kept making. A nervous smile replaced the first. “Well, others have shown you kindness since your arrival, have they not?” “Yeah, that’s true. The Headmaster gave me somewhere to live and a meal plan. Your family was really sweet to me too.” “Precisely.” “There have also been a lot of people trying to punch me in the face, though.” Lynne covered her mouth with the back of her hand, but it did little to hide her laugh. “I intend to become a healer one day,” she said. “It would be rather negligent of me to ignore a boy who is limping, underfed, and apparently determined to worsen both conditions.” “Underfed?” I looked down at myself. All right. Maybe she was right. “I shall return shortly.” She pointed at the bench beneath me. “Stay here, please.” I sighed as she hurried away. She had gotten everything she wanted without offering a single compromise. Somehow, I couldn’t even be annoyed about it. How could I argue with her when she was the only person who seemed genuinely concerned about my health? My gaze dropped to my injured leg. Naturally, my thoughts returned to Mamoru. I considered standing and practicing the motion of the kick against an imaginary version of him. Would that count as physical training? Probably. I settled for sitting while lifting my right leg into the position I would have used. That couldn’t count as training, right? Within seconds, my thigh and hip began to burn from holding the position. Why were my legs so weak? I raised my foot slightly higher. Maybe I could strengthen the muscles this way. It wasn’t as if I was kicking anything. Wait. Strengthening the muscles was the entire point of training. So this probably counted. I lowered my foot before Lynne returned and somehow sensed what I had done by looking at my leg. This felt unfair. She returned not long afterward carrying a plate piled with an enormous chicken wing and something that looked suspiciously like macaroni and cheese. “Spiced poultry and makerouns,” she announced. “I pray you enjoy them.” Makerouns? I meant to ask. By the time the question properly formed, my mouth was already full. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I stopped feeling hungry. By the time I remembered it might be polite to offer Lynne some, only a bare chicken bone and a few streaks of cheese remained. I stared at the bone. Naturally, my thoughts returned to Mamoru. Did his Bracing extend all the way down to his bones? Did it reinforce his muscles too, or only harden the surface of his body? If it only affected the skin, the kick should work. If it reinforced everything beneath it— Cecily’s voice returned to me. Your plan is still stupid. Maybe it was. But I felt like it could work. At the very least, it was more of a plan than I had the last time I fought him. Still, maybe Cecily was right. Damn, Cecily had a way of getting under my skin. I still couldn’t believe I had actually kicked her. Then Lynne had thought she was exaggerating. She really didn’t think the kick would work either, did she? “What are you thinking about?” Lynne asked. Her voice pulled me back to the bench. “Mamoru, mostly.” It was the truth. I had promised not to lie. I hesitated before asking, “Actually, what were you and Cecily talking about?” Lynne looked at me quizzically. “What do you mean?” “Why did you think she was pretending to be hurt?” “Oh. That.” She had a very distinct smile whenever she was nervous. I waited. She continued smiling as if she hoped the question might become uncomfortable and leave on its own. “Lynne.” “Ah. Well, you see…” “Yes?” “Cecily has a history of such behavior.” I frowned. “She occasionally decides that someone has become arrogant and…” Lynne paused, carefully considering her words. “Requires being put in their place, as she phrases it.” “So you still think my kick was stupid.” “I never said any such thing. I merely stated that I do not yet understand it.” I gave her a flat look. Lynne rose from the bench. “Why are you looking at me that way?” she asked with perfect innocence. “Do you not believe me?” “I’m going to use it against Mamoru and prove both of you wrong.” I hadn’t realized I was pouting until after I spoke. Her expression grew more serious. “Why are you so determined to limp toward your own destruction?” “The kick works.” Lynne sighed. Then she stepped back and lowered herself into a surprisingly competent fighting stance. Her feet were well positioned. Her balance was centered. Her hands remained loose but ready. She had definitely trained. “What are you doing?” “If you are so certain, then show me.” “No.” “Show me as you showed Cecily.” “Stop.” “Just one kick. It need not be hard. I give you permission this once.” She wore an expression that would have looked fiercely determined on almost anyone else. On Lynne, it somehow still looked innocent. “You’re being ridiculous.” “You kicked Cecily when she asked.” “Yeah, because she was asking for it.” “And I am asking you. I merely wish to understand what happened.” “Cecily wasn’t lying.” “I no longer believe she was,” Lynne said quickly. “Not entirely.” “Not entirely?” “She experienced genuine pain. I do not doubt that. But there was no bruising, swelling, or lasting injury to the tissue. I thought perhaps the impact compressed a nerve or caused the muscle to seize for a moment.” “You can just admit you think the kick looks stupid and won’t work.” “Xu, you are putting words into my mouth. I do not know enough about the technique to judge it. That is precisely why I wish to examine its effects.” “I’ll tell you what happens after I use it on Mamoru.” Lynne’s mouth tightened. “Xu, that is—” “I’m not kicking you!” My voice came out much harsher than I intended. I hadn’t even realized I was getting worked up until the words left me. Lynne recoiled. Barely. Just a small step and a slight widening of her eyes. It was enough to replace whatever I was feeling with guilt. “I only wished to determine whether the pain came from the angle of impact, a momentary compression of the nerve, or a spasm in the surrounding muscle,” she said quietly. “You know I have received training in both armed and unarmed combat since I was—” I looked up at her. She stopped when our eyes met. I looked away from her eyes and down at her leg. For some reason her reaction made me feel worse. For a moment, I tried to imagine kicking her leg. I tried to remove Lynne from the equation and see only a target. A point of impact. An angle. A body positioned where Mamoru’s would be. But it made me feel disgusted with my own mind. I couldn’t even picture my foot touching her. Something inside me rejected the thought before it could properly form. The revulsion was immediate and complete. “I really can’t do it,” I said.“Please don’t ask me anymore.” Lynne lowered her hands. “Okay. I’m sorry.” She looked down. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Neither of us spoke for a moment. Then she looked up at me with sudden sternness. “No training. No skipping meals. And no coffee before bed. Not until your leg heals. Do you understand?” I sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” “I will be very upset if you disobey me.” “I won’t.” “I shall be able to tell simply by examining your leg. You know that, do you not?” “I believe you.” “Truly, I mean not to blow my own trumpet, but I am the head of my anatomy and medicine class.” A laugh slipped out of me. “I don’t doubt it.” She stared at me. I tried not to laugh again. Her expression made it impossible. “Why are you laughing?” “Why are you looking at me like that?” “You promise?” I held out my pinky. Lynne looked at it. Then she looked at me, puzzled. “What are you doing?” “It’s a pinky promise.” Her head tilted. “What is a pinky promise?” “You’ve never heard of one?” She shook her head. I opened my mouth to explain and encountered another one of those strange gaps in my memory. I knew what a pinky promise was. I knew how to do one. I had no idea where I had learned it. “It’s like, the most sacred kind of promise,” I said. I raised my other hand to show that I wasn’t crossing my fingers. Lynne’s expression suggested she couldn’t decide whether I was joking. I was completely serious. “You hook your pinky around mine,” I explained. “And you can’t cross your fingers on your other hand, or else it doesn’t count.” “Why?” “I don’t know. It just does.” After a moment of hesitation, she gingerly hooked her pinky around mine. “Is that all?” she asked. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Lynne stared at me. “What?” I honestly didn’t know what I had said either. I only knew it was associated with a pinky promise. “That’s what you’re supposed to say.” “That sounds remarkably like an incantation.” “It isn’t.” “It requires a prescribed gesture, a spoken vow, and a consequence should the vow be broken.” I stared at her. Shit. Was a pinky promise a spell? Had I known magic before losing my memories? Before I could think too deeply about it, Lynne tightened her pinky around mine. She raised her other hand, careful to keep every finger straight. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she recited solemnly, “stick a needle in my eye.” She spoke with such reverence that I managed to remain silent for almost three seconds. Then I laughed. Lynne’s expression darkened. “Why are you laughing?” “I’m sorry.” “I am taking this seriously. Were you jesting with me?” “No. No, I’m serious too. I promise.” She continued holding my pinky. “You will not do anything that might further aggravate your leg?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And you will eat proper meals?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And refrain from coffee before bed?” I hesitated. Her pinky tightened around mine. “Yes, ma’am.” Only then did Lynne seem satisfied. She released my hand and sat beside me once more. I looked down at my pinky. For some reason, the promise felt heavier than a vow children made.

Chapter 30