Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

Sasha picked out a leather-bound tome and held it so its title, Battlefields of the Seventh, was visible. “You do not want this, then?”

Renee snatched the treasure from her friend’s hand. The book’s thin pages bent under her touch. Seven years ago, the Seventh’s leader, Korish Savoy, was a fighter cadet her age. He trained in the same salle, worried about the same exams, followed the same rules. Maybe he opened a book like this too and counted the days to the year’s end, to the two years of field trials, to turning nineteen and graduating. Maybe in another seven years, some other cadet would open a book about Renee. If she made it.

A knock interrupted her musing. Her best friend loitered awkwardly in the open doorway, his hands buried in his pockets. For him, this was positively outgoing. “Alec! The door is wide open.”

“Mmm. Didn’t notice.” He bowed to Sasha before stepping inside.

Renee ran up and hugged him, rising onto her toes to get her arms around his neck. The differences in their physiques had grown pronounced within the last year, when soft curves shaped her previously boyish body. The summer apart accentuated it. Resentment pricked her before she could stop it, and her father’s words bubbled in her mind like a disease. The boys grew. And she did not. Even Alec, who once had looked wide-eyed at her superior swordsmanship, started powering through her parries last spring.

He lifted her off the ground for a momentary hug and then retreated to hide in a corner.

Sasha smiled like a cat with a bowlful of cream. “Your new instructor will come a week late.” She cut her gaze at the book on Renee’s bed. “You may have heard of him.”

Renee looked at Sasha blankly until her roommate chuckled and mouthed the name.

Savoy. Servant Commander Korish Savoy. Renee closed her eyes, sending a thank-you to the gods. Her heart beat faster. At least one cadet would be cut after midyear exams, and she would not let it be her. If anyone could hone her skills by then, it was Tildor’s top swordsman. “How did you find out?”

“I have my birdies.” Sasha nodded toward Battlefields . “Make certain you return that. I may have forgotten to obtain Master Librarian’s permission.”

Alec shifted and stared at the floor.

Renee frowned at him. “What bothers you?”

He glanced up, rubbing his arms. “With Savoy in charge, everyone will be watching us.”

“True.” Sasha scratched the side of her nose. “Having the commander teach cadets is like, well, asking the palace’s mage to Heal scraped knees. If Savoy’s here, someone wanted it so.”

Renee shrugged and resumed her search for the missing door key. The Academy always pulled instructors from field duty. Even those permanently stationed at the Academy split their time between teaching and other work. Headmaster Verin, a Servant High Constable in rank, was the Crown’s top military advisor, while Servant Magistrate Seaborn, the cadets’ favorite law teacher, regularly addressed real cases. But Sasha would look for hidden meaning if the kitchens served pudding in place of custard. All magistrates did. The lack of a door key presented the more immediate problem for Renee, since reporting it lost would doubtlessly trigger some official inquiry. She checked her pockets for the third time.

“I know a smith in town,” Alec said quietly.

Sasha cleared her throat and rose, placing her own key on the bureau. “If you’ll both excuse me, I think I will indulge in an extended bath before Lys’s welcome address. My dear cousin the now king will be sweating enough for all of us.”

A smile tugged Renee’s lips. It was good to be back.

By the time Renee and Alec had copied the key, a slow breeze cut the warm afternoon. The trees surrounding the Academy grounds rustled companionably. Inside, servants scurried about the main courtyard, adding final touches in preparation for the Crown’s speech. Curiosity tickled the air. King Lysian III had ascended to the throne barely two months earlier, following his sickly father’s passing.

Before them, a small boy and his dog ran circles around the dais now mounted on the manicured lawn, while Guardsman Fisker, his horse-face pinched into a scowl, watched from a distance. Renee sighed. Fisker had left his position at the Academy a year ago for a new assignment as a Senior Guardsman in the Palace Guard—much to the delight of most cadets. The man would hunt down anyone who even thought of breaking the rules, if he could. He was likely here to safeguard the king, which meant they’d be rid of him soon. Renee sighed again, then staggered back as the boy’s dog, an enormous wolf-like creature, made a dash for Alec.

Alec dropped to one knee to greet the disaster. The habit was bound to get him bitten one day, but that day stubbornly refused to come.

“Khavi likes you.” The boy, no older than eight, cocked his head, blond hair ruffling in the wind. He was eleven hands tall or so, temporarily matching heights with the kneeling Alec.

“Most beasts do,” muttered Renee, staying clear of the dog’s muddy paws. “The courtyard is closed for the ceremony,” she said pointedly.

The boy crossed his arms. Green eyes came up to meet hers. “How can grass close?”

Alec turned away in an apparent coughing fit, leaving Renee to conjure a response. “What’s your name?”

“Diam.” He held out his hand. “I’m gonna be a page and then a cadet and then a Servant.”

“Young.” Alec rose to stand beside her but continued scratching his new furry friend’s ear. “Few students come before ten.”

“Korish Savoy came at eight,” Diam shot back.

Renee smiled. “Are you our next Commander Savoy?”

He stood up straighter. “I am.”

“Well, be careful, Master Savoy, because the real one will soon be here,” said Alec.

“I know. He’s got a huge horse named Kye, who is all black and can kill a man.”

Alec whistled. “You know all that?”

“More.” The boy opened his mouth to say something further, when Fisker approached waving his four-fingered hand to banish them from the yard.

“You let that beast bite anyone, and I’ll cut its head off myself,” Fisker grunted, throwing Diam and his dog a dirty look.

“Bloody gods, the man’s skull has grown even thicker since getting posted to the palace, and a promotion to boot. You’d think he has half the army—not ten junior guardsmen—under him,” Alec mumbled when they parted paths with the boy and headed to barracks. “What security breach were we possibly creating?”

Renee chuckled. Fisker’s perfection crusade was not the true cause of Alec’s irritation. “I’m certain the dog will play with you again tomorrow,” she told him.

Alec blushed.

“Is it strange seeing your cousin as the Crown?” Renee asked Sasha, while wrestling into her dress uniform.

“Like watching an unbroken colt saddled.” Sasha settled a magistrate’s burgundy shawl on her own shoulders. “You can’t tell whether the horse will give or the rider will break his neck.” She shook her head. “The first thing Lys did was arrest three Viper lords, Renee. I’m holding my breath to see what comes of it.”

“Besides three less violent criminals in Tildor?”

Sasha snorted. “Gods help me, you’re just like him. If it was that straightforward, the Crown would have done it years back.” She dropped her voice. “The evidence was broth-weak and now the Vipers’ Madam is pouring underlings into Atham to put the new Crown in his place. A new king’s position is tenuous enough without goading enemies into confrontation.”

Renee winced. The Vipers had emerged as the Family’s top rival about ten years ago, dragging violence wherever they stepped. They’d be an unwelcome addition to the capital. Still, taking decisive action against criminals was a strong opening move, and a good message to send to the Vipers and Family both. Renee liked Lysian as king already.