Page 226 of Because I Killed Him
I cross over to Harrison, who looks as if he’s watching the energy shield crack open above his head. Vincent stands beside him, every word pushing to keep Harrison upright. Harrison lifts a shaky hand to Vincent’s shoulder, his fingers curling as if he needs to feel another pulse to remind himself that he still has one.
“Grandmaster Somerset,” I say, stopping before Harrison and Vincent. “I wish to be considered as our challenger.”
Harrison furrows his brow. His eyes flick to my scabbard, to the saber resting there for the first time all year, then drop to my left leg. He knows I’m still stiff and, worse, how close I came to losing the leg entirely.
Before he can respond, Vincent cuts in.
“That would not be appropriate, Miss Waldsten. You are in Mr. Prew’s entourage. You are his friend.”
I lift my chin. “So is Mr. Carroway. And for the record, I am on my own now. Mr. Prew’s and my arrangement has been formally dissolved.”
Vincent goes still, watching me with that quiet interest he reserves for anything that pulls the Blues a little lower. I can feel the question lingering:What did she see that changed her mind?
Harrison places a hand on my arm, firm enough to signal refusal before he speaks. “My apologies, Miss Waldsten. I know you desire this honor, and I truly believe you would perform admirably. But you have not earned a ranking through dueling this year. I cannot risk it. The fight must go to our second-ranked fencer. It is tradition.”
He gives my arm a gentle yet final squeeze. And just like that, the opportunity I was willing to bleed for slips out of my reach.
Harrison glances at Vincent as if seeking approval. Vincent hesitates, looking uneasy, then nods. His gaze moves past me to William, who’s already stepping out of the crowd.
“Do you accept the role of challenger, Mr. Lee?” Harrison asks.
William’s apprehension shows in his eyes, yet he stands taller. “I do, Grandmaster. I shall uphold our honor.”
“Good.” Harrison pulls on his cap. “Then we proceed.”
I try to school my face, pushing down the disappointment even as my heart feels like it’s dropping through the floor. As I fall back into the line, Vincent follows and catches my sleeve.
“Miss Waldsten,” he says. “Forgive me. I know you also wishedfor this honor, and I am certain Grandmaster Harrison is correct. You would have performed admirably.”
The way Vincent speaks makes it clear he’s seen the video, the one of me killing Charles Blackwell. Maybe he’s already pieced together that Charles was Edmund’s cousin. Maybe he even thinks that’s why I’m no longer in Edmund’s entourage.
“Things are changing, Miss Waldsten,” Vincent continues. “Men like President Reeve and your father are making sure of it. In due course, we will all have our moment to stand up for what is right. And when your moment arrives, I promise, this time, my saber will be with yours.”
I stare at him, my throat constricting as his vow echoes through me. It’s harder than ever to believe he’s the same man who tried to kill me on the train platform. Then again, when I look at myself now, I wonder if I’m the same person, either.
“I wish your brother well tonight,” I say.
Vincent’s eyes dim slightly. He clears his throat and fiddles with a small tear in the band of his cap, as if he’s already picturing William facing Edmund and doesn’t like what he sees.
“Do you think he has a chance?” I ask.
Vincent’s mouth tightens, then relaxes as if resigned. “William’s true opponent will be his own temper. All I can do is stay close and, if he falters, do what an elder brother must… claim his failures as my own.”
He holds my gaze a little longer, with the same shy, quiet smile. Then he bends and presses a kiss to my hand before crossing back to Harrison and William at the front of the line.
“Straight backs, straight shoulders,” Harrison calls. His voice echoes over the stone steps as he guides us from the Green Fraternity House to the shore, where our hoverboats bob against the dock lights. “The Mensur is not a death duel,” he reminds us, as he paces the planks. “But it is similar in this: the Mensur’s success rests entirely upon an honorable exchange. Do not risk our name for your pride. Do not disgrace our House.”
“Understood, Grandmaster,” comes a chorus of replies.
Harrison, Vincent, and William board the first hoverboat alone. Once they push off, the rest of us split into twos and threes, climbing into the waiting vessels.
Charlotte settles in beside me as a Pinkie releases the mooring line.
“How are you doing, Char?” I ask under my breath.
“Wrecked,” she mutters, hugging her elbows. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut till after the Mensur.” She shakes her head. “I just can’t stop making a mess of things, Lore. Every time I think I’ve hit rock bottom, the floor splits open, and I fall straight through.”
“You didn’t mean for this to happen.”
