Or maybe that was fear?
Zevrial rubbed at his chest, still staring at me.
“Call,” Zevrial drew out the word.
He flipped his cards over and my mouth popped open in shock.
Four queens and a sword.
The ringing returned to my ears, fever pitch.
Not only was that hand good enough to beat mine, it was one of the best hands in the entire game. For several seconds I forgot to breathe.
“Well, this sucks,” Rosa flipped over her hand, two towers, two cups and one archer. Her hand had been worse than mine.
Closing my eyes, my hope died a quick death. My hands started to shake. Orin swore.
After struggling my way through the Mistrun, I would end up right back in the Reformatory.
Suicide by Haburi had to be a new depth of stupid.
I flipped my cards over, pressing my lips together to try to keep any gathering tears at bay.
Henrik sucked in a breath that sounded pained when he saw my hand.
A victorious glint entered Zevrial's eyes.
“Today just got better,” Sarina crowed, flipping over her hand with a triumphant smile.
Four kings and a sword.
The breath I released was choppy with relief. I almost tipped forward.
Zevrial looked stunned, before quickly regaining his composure. “Well played.”
Sarina pulled the winnings toward herself. “Sometimes, I amaze even myself.” I let a grin break out, sharing it with Henrik and Sarina.
Despite our poor performance, I would remain at the outpost for another day.
Somehow, I had managed to choose the best roommate ever.
“Well, a deal’s a deal,” Zevrial said, rolling to his feet with practiced ease. “No one’s getting written up for anything tonight.” Henrik pumped his fists in the air and whooped at the news. “Next time,” his eyes glittered with amusement in the oil lamplight, “be quieter than a plague of lanternflies if you're going to sneak around breaking rules.”
Henrik stood up first, turning to leave. “Not so fast.” Zevrial turned toward him. “Return it. Now.”
Henrik froze, surprise flickering over his face for an instant, before he smiled. “Had to try.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin purse he tossed to Zevrial.
“That’s a bad habit you’ve got there,” Zevrial said conversationally, tucking the coin purse back into his own pocket. Henrik snorted, unrepentant as he hurried away. Zevrial’s eyes tracked him as he left.
Sarina and I didn't stick around to tempt fate. Zevrial's presence at our backs was a prickling constant awareness.
We stayed up late, with much relishing and celebrating on Sarina's end, and her promising to buy us a barrel of sweetstalk nectar after we graduated.
The more time I spent around Sarina, the more I was beginning to realize that her small stature didn't make her less of a threat. Maybe less of a physical one, but it also made others more likely to underestimate her.
She'd been lucky tonight, but that was a small part of how we'd made it out intact. I wouldn't underestimate her in the future.
I was supremely grateful to have her around, even as she continued to gloat over her victory.
