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"I hate that." I say.

"What."

"Hearing you say it."

"Why?"

"You're never scared."

He gives me a tired smile. "That's because you're not paying attention."

"I pay attention."

"Not enough." Fair. He looks across the courtyard. "I'm supposed to know what to do." The words are quiet. "Chief. Third-year. Your brother. Father expects—" He stops. I wait. "Everyone looks at us now." He continues. "The Chiefs. If something happens, they look for instructions. If a student panics, they look at us. If a professor needs people moved, they look at us. And..." He swallows.

"When you disappear from my sight for ten minutes..." There. "I don't know if I'm supposed to trust you or go find you."

My chest tightens. "Both." He looks at me. "You can trust me and still worry."

"That's very convenient for you."

"It is." I smile faintly. Then— "You don't have to know what to do before I do."

His brow furrows. "What does that mean?"

"It means..." I search. "You don't have to make every decision for me because you're scared." Silence. "You can just tell me you're scared." His jaw works once. Uncomfortable. Good. Growth is uncomfortable.

"I don't like that." He says.

"I know."

"I prefer orders."

"I've noticed."

"They're efficient."

"So says Rhyven."

Caelen groans. "Do not compare me to him."

I smile. "You're both very bossy."

"We are completely different."

"Debatable."

"He's worse."

"Also debatable."

Caelen looks at me suspiciously. I look ahead. We reach my residence. He doesn't tell me to go inside. Progress. Instead, he nudges my shoulder once. "Tomorrow."

"I know."

"You stay with your assigned group."

"I know."