while Professor Knight was recovering.
âThat would be nice. Thank you.â
We were silent as James began another attack, feinting and cutting, driving Matson back. Their swords flashed in the noon sunlight.
âMatson is good, too,â I said, as he lunged to defend. âAt this stage in the trials, theyâre all good. But heâs weaker on his left side and knows it. Watch how he guards it more.â
âAh, yes. And that leaves his right side exposed.â
âExactly.â Just then, James struck low on Matsonâs right leg. The dulled bladeâtournament regulationsâhit with an audible thwack on his armor, and the audience roared, many thinking the match was done. But it wasnât a killing blow, so the two continued around each other, with points in Jamesâs favor.
âThis is so frustrating!â Lady Meredith beat her tiny fan harder, just pushing the hot air around the stuffy box. âHow long can this possibly go on?â
âUntil one is âdeadâ or someone reaches ten points. Killing blows are ten points.â I added Jamesâs in my head. âHe has seven already: four for the strike against Matsonâs leg, and three for evading that blow earlier.â
âSaints. I just want Cadet Rayner to win!â
I was inclined to agree, but with my parents sitting directly behind me, I didnât want to risk them overhearing how badly I needed Jamesâs victory. After the debacle at my birthday party last week, it was likely Iâd be stuck with the current troop of guards for the rest of my life, but if I could also have Jamesâthat would be better. Then Iâd always have a friend.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as I watched James slash and parry and wait for Matson to leave an opening. The crowd grew quiet, everyone focused on the pair in the ring.
James struck, likely finishing the battleâbut brown-and-gray-dashed hair, a professorâs coat, the faint âSorry, excuse meâ caught my attention away. Professor Knight? Last Iâd heard, heâdbeen on bed rest, with a royal physician attending him every day.
Lady Meredith surged to her feet along with everyone else, clapping and shouting with enthusiasm I hadnât expected from her.
I was on my feet, too, but scanning the crowd for Professor Knight. That had been him, I was sure of it. But now he was lost in the press of people cheering for James, who stood in the center of the ring and sheathed his sword. His face was bright with exertion and the attention of hundreds of eyes, but he bowed toward my familyâs box and grinned wide enough that no one would ever know heâd been nervous.
âThe match goes to James Rayner!â The announcerâs voice boomed from the ground, and the applause roared louder. Eric Matson stood off to the side, clapping too, though a frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. Anyone would be upset to lose, but surely he hadnât expected to win against James; James was the best.
Even as my chest swelled with pride for my cousin, my eyes fell back to the place Iâd seen Professor Knight. Iâd been dying to talk to him about what happened during my birthday party, but of course I hadnât been permitted to visit him. Father was afraid Iâd interrogate him and try to blame Hensley for the burn again.
But now he was out in public. Surely no one would disagree if I wanted to see how my favorite professor was feeling a mere week after a terrible attack.
âExcuse me,â I said to Lady Meredith, and pushed myself out of my chair.
âTobiah?â Fatherâs warning tone stilled me. âGoing somewhere?â
I paused halfway to the door, not quite managing the look of innocent surprise I wanted. âYes?â
Mother and Aunt Kathleen were looking on, as well as Lord and Lady Corcoran.
âWhere are you going?â Fatherâs gaze didnât leave mine.
I lifted my
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