“Maya!”
The von Rakhmonov girl stopped and turned to them with a small smile.
“Volkov,” she said, nodding at him with a small smile. “Your Highness.” Her smile dropped, and her eyes grew frostier as she glanced at him, and then looked away.
“Tied again,” Volkov said cheerfully. “Don’t tell me you thought it would be any different this time?”
Rakhmonova smiled politely. “I hadhopedI would be first this time,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“But you are,” Volkov rolled his eyes. “Youbothare.”
“That’s as bad as neither of us being top,” Luka snapped, shaking his head. “It means there was no clear winner.”
“I agree,” the Rakhmonov girl said, her eyebrows quirking up, as if she was surprised to be agreeing with him. “I would’ve preferred to be top of the listalone.”
Luka shot a glare at the girl, unsurprised to see her glaring back at him.
“Come now, let’s get a celebratory drink together,” Volkov said cajolingly, looking from one of them to the other. “My treat.”
“You carry on,” Rakhmonova said, neatly sidestepping the arm he meant to throw over her shoulders. “I have work to do in the library.”
Volkov tutted as she turned sharply and walked away, nodding quickly at the both of them as she went.
“It won’t work, you know,” Luka sighed as he turned away as well.
“Hmm?”
“This thing you do where you try to get us to become friendly.”
“Can you blame me for wanting my two best friends to get along?” Volkov asked, smiling fondly. “Don’t answer that. Now come on, it’s time for somepovik,” Volkov said, and Luka grinned. “We can ride into the village pub and be back in time for lights out.”
“Perfect.”
An alcoholic drink served hot,povikwas the preferred tipple of the local villagers. As nobles, Luka and Volkov had only drunk wine all their lives, but where it had taken some getting used to for Luka to enjoy the taste of the fermented apple drink, Volkov had almost immediately developed a taste for the harsh, heavy-hitting alcohol. It helped, perhaps, that it took a lot for Volkov to get drunk—he stood almost twice as wide as Luka, and most of it was muscle.
As his best friend led him away, Luka glanced back at his rival. Rakhmonova had taken a quick, cursory look at the scores, before walking away with a sniff.
Off to the library again, of course. Alone. The girl didn’t know how to have fun.
Dismissing her from his mind, Luka followed his friend, chuckling at Volkov’s tall tales.
~
Luka frowned at the grunt of exertion.
He’d thought no one else knew about the shortcut to the training grounds, but it seemed others had noticed how the little path through the gardens cut behind the hedge and allowed one to jump the fences into the middle of the grounds.
It was how he and Volkov always managed to make it in time for their early morning sword practice, even after a night out in the village pub.
Well, it looked like someone else had discovered this little secret way. He wondered who it was, the evening was drawing in, and most of the cadets would be resting in their rooms in the dormitories. It was the day after their scores had been posted, and with the weekend stretching before them, most of the cadets were out in town, or resting in their rooms.
It was usually the best time for him to practice, in peace and quiet, with no one around to realize just how hard he worked to maintain his superior skills at swordsmanship.
Well, now his secret would be out.
Luka frowned as he swished his sword through the air. Still, it was—
“Get away from me!”
