The Recovery Room of Victor and Vanquished
It was more than an hour after the match before Yulia, collapsed on the dueling floor, opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was Blow and Rachel, watching her with worry plain on their faces.
“Hey! You all right?”
“Senior?”
The moment she saw them she bolted upright and ran a hand over the upper arm where she had taken the wound.
Beneath her fingertip lay a cut so shallow she could barely feel it.
She had won.
Unable to believe it, Yulia clenched her fist and opened it again for no reason at all, then pressed her fingers hard around her eyes before the tears could spill.
“Senior, you were truly remarkable. Thinking to use Burst Flame in that situation—and the way you finished it was magnificent.”
“Ha! I honestly didn’t think you’d pull it off.”
“And the trousers suited you far too well.”
“That’s right. A proper warrior woman, Yulia Edfolk!”
Congratulations, unmistakably Blow and Rachel.
No matter how she tried to hold them back, the tears came anyway, so she let them fall and lifted her head to look at the two of them.
“I did well, didn’t I?”
“You were perfect.”
“I’ll admit it. I was moved.”
“Hic…”
Somewhere along the way she had seized one of them in each hand, and those hands were shaking. Blow and Rachel glanced at each other and broke into quiet smiles.
“Hic… ngh…”
“Senior…”
After a long stretch of steadying breaths, Yulia spoke in a calmer voice.
“Young Master. And Lady Rachel. If it hadn’t been for the two of you, I wouldn’t have won.”
“That’s not true. I think you won because you are who you are, Senior.”
“For once, I agree with this brat.”
Only now that Yulia was awake did Rachel relax enough to drop into the chair beside the bed and take a bite of a red apple.
“And your body? You holding up?”
“Yes. I think I only need my mana back. My muscles took a bit of a shock, that’s all.”
“Still, you’ll be out of the recovery room by about Tuesday, won’t you?”
“No. I can’t stay that long. The third exam is coming, and the election period with it.”
“Ha! The election? Don’t even need to look. This might be the most overwhelming vote in your school’s history.”
“Even so. You never know.”
By then Yulia had settled into an easy calm. She turned her head as if searching for someone, then looked to Blow.
“What about the others?”
“They thought it would get crowded if too many of us came in at once. So we entered first.”
“That’s better, actually. Receiving your congratulations before anyone else’s feels wonderful.”
Yulia’s eyes kept drifting toward the door. Blow understood at once whom that gaze was seeking: Deschamp.
Better to see her over a meal tomorrow.
He remembered the bloodshot eyes Deschamp had worn when they crossed paths just before leaving the arena. Blow cleared his throat and spoke to Yulia with care.
“Senior.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Tomorrow, to celebrate your victory, I was hoping we might hold a dinner at Hills.”
“Ah. Yes. Yes, of course we should.”
“And before that, at lunch, I was hoping you might dine with Lord Deschamp.”
Blow’s tone was cautious.
Yulia studied him for a long moment. A smile spread at the corner of her mouth, and when she answered, her voice was gentle.
“Young Master, I told you at the Black Bridge Gathering.”
“Ah… which part did you mean?”
“That my heart goes the same way yours does.”
Rachel, hearing that, started so hard she dropped her apple on the floor.
Blow, thoroughly embarrassed, picked it up and held it out to her.
“Lady Rachel, this…”
“How sweet.”
A brief silence. At last Blow chose his words and answered Yulia, who was still beaming at him.
“Then… would you be able to come to Hills tomorrow morning? I’d like us to prepare together.”
“What a wonderful idea, Young Master! In that case I’ll simply leave the recovery room tomorrow morning.”
Together. How could so small a word feel this good?
In truth, Yulia was just a little resentful of Rachel, who had gone right back to biting into her apple beside them. If Rachel hadn’t been there, she had meant to ask Blow to stroke her hair, to beg him for a hug. She couldn’t, not like this.
As if she had read that thought, Rachel looked delighted to death, her eyes flicking back and forth between Yulia and Blow.
Terrified that one more step would earn her endless teasing, Yulia had no choice but to crush the blanket over her in both fists and endure.
Stay composed. Tomorrow, when it’s just the two of us, I can ask him then.
Yulia let out a thin sigh. Blow checked the time and offered her a polite bow.
“Senior, we’ll take our leave. A great many people are waiting outside the recovery room. Deputy Maxim was even crying, which isn’t like him at all.”
“Ah. Maxim.”
“Yes. Rebecca and Deputy Danvers were there as well. Everyone seemed to want Lady Rachel to go in first, so…”
“They all find me far too uncomfortable to be around. What do you make of that, Blow Deblique?”
“I believe it’s only natural to fear the unknown.”
“Did you think of that yourself?”
“No. Instructor Mnevoir told me.”
“I knew it. Blow Deblique.”
Rachel, finding the answer hopelessly bland, shook her head.
At Blow’s announcement that they were leaving, Yulia felt a small pang.
“Even so, it seems a little soon, Young Master…”
“Keeping guests standing outside for too long would be uncomfortable for Lady Rachel as well. And I’d be rather embarrassed myself.”
“That’s true, but…”
The moment you leave, you’re going to Herbena.
Yulia couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Of course she could guess, at least a little, how the defeated Herbena must feel. It had been an upset so complete that Herbena surely couldn’t even hold her own body steady. Still, she wished he would watch her just a little longer—just a little—and listen to how she had won, and what it had cost her to do it.
Strangely, he was the one person she wanted to show even that weakness.
But she had no choice except to fold the wish away, however much it ached. Blow Deblique was not a man who could abandon one of his own and revel in a victory beside her.
She could see it clearly: the impatience he was working so hard to hide behind that gentle smile.
Even that impatience… I want it to be mine.
If she held him here any longer, though, his regard for her would take even the smallest scratch. Grasp at something small, and you can lose something great. Yulia offered him the compromise she had found.
“Young Master, then… could you stop by for just a little while tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. I think I have to stay in the recovery room until tomorrow morning if they’re going to recognize an early dismissal from class. That’s why.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“And if we try to settle everything one by one tomorrow morning, I don’t think I’ll have a moment to think.”
“You’re right. Then I’ll see Lady Rachel off and come by briefly.”
Yes!
Yulia had been worrying what she would do if he refused. At last a bright smile spread across her face.
“All right. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Lady Rachel, you’re leaving right away, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. That’s how it turned out.”
Rachel nodded, looking a little regretful.
Yulia, who had been staring at her, suddenly pushed herself up from the bed.
“Why are you getting up? Just lie down.”
Rachel’s eyes went round with surprise.
Yulia was already in front of her, and before Rachel could get another word out she had pulled her into a fierce embrace.
“Thank you. Truly, Lady Rachel Campbell. I will never forget this kindness.”
“I was just bored, that’s all…”
“I know very well you aren’t someone who does a thing like that idly. Thank you. Really.”
“All right, then… if I ask you for something later, you have to say yes.”
“Whatever you ask, I’ll grant it. On the name of Yulia.”
“No need to stake your name on it. Anyway, that was genuinely fun. See you next time.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll send word again.”
With that, Rachel’s hands—adrift a moment ago, with nowhere to go—came to rest on Yulia’s back and stroked it.
Blow watched the two of them for a long, warm moment, then checked the time once more.
Stupid fucking bitch.
Herbena bit down hard on her lower lip and stared blankly at the ceiling of the recovery room.
“Herbena…”
Skadi murmured it beside her, watching with open worry, but Herbena’s tightly shut mouth showed no sign of opening.
She was walking back through everything from the end of the duel until now.
Unlike Yulia, who had failed to rise for a full hour even after being moved to the recovery room, Herbena had woken barely five minutes after taking the final blow.
Yulia! Yulia!
Even then the whole of the stands had been chanting Yulia’s name. The instructors who had come in as judges were looking first to Yulia, whose condition seemed several times worse than her own.
Only then did Herbena see the violet mana gone from her body, and she had no choice but to let out a long breath.
It was only by a little.
Emptied out, she was pushing herself up when Mnevoir—having looked over Yulia—approached and spoke with care.
Herbena, are you all right? Aurora already cast a healing spell.
Herbena couldn’t answer.
Her body was fine. Her mind was not fine at all.
Defeat, a feeling she had never known, was lavishing emotions on her by the handful. Displeasure, self-reproach, bewilderment, sorrow, irritation, anger, regret…
She had no idea how to spend those feelings, or where to put them.
Amid that confusion, she had been certain her eyes were wide open—and when she came back to herself, she was on a bed in the recovery room. Skadi and Jane, who had been watching her for a long time, didn’t waste a single careless word. They only looked her over with worried eyes.
Some two hours had passed when the door opened and her young master came in carrying something.
“Young Master.”
“Jane. You were here.”
“Yes. It seemed…”
Herbena couldn’t bear to face him. She had pulled the blanket up over her head.
“Herbena?”
“……”
“Jane, is Herbena unwell?”
“Yes, Young Master. She woke, but she didn’t look well at all.”
“The last spell must have landed hard.”
Skadi, adding that to Jane’s words, speaking up for her.
Herbena was so grateful she could have cried, but she hauled the blanket higher still, afraid her face might show.
A little later Blow’s voice reached her, low and gentle.
“Could the rest of you step out for a moment?”
“Ah—yes. Of course.”
“All right. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Even as the door shut behind Jane and Skadi, the world in front of Herbena’s blanketed eyes stayed pitch dark.
“Herbena.”
“……”
“Herbena?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Let me see your face.”
“……”
“I’m worried.”
His voice was nothing but soft, as if he meant to blame her for nothing at all. Herbena had no choice but to lower the blanket.
Only then could she see the concern in his eyes. Just looking at him felt like a sin, so she dropped her gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? It was a duel. You can lose, and you can win.”
He had already taken a seat beside her. He plucked one grape from the bunch set there and held it out.
“If something sweet hits your tongue, you might feel a little better anyway.”
“Thank you.”
For a long while the small sounds of the two of them eating filled the room.
Around the time they had finished the cluster, Herbena’s firmly closed mouth opened, just a little.
“Young Master, I think I let my guard down too far.”
“Did you.”
“Yes. I just… I think I took it too lightly.”
“That can happen.”
“While Lady Yulia was doing all that with Lady Rachel, I should have been thinking of a counterplan too. Instead I slapped together some half-baked duel with inverse calculus and…”
“No. It was fine. You overwhelmed her at the start, didn’t you?”
“I should have sunk into the match. I think I spent too much attention on something I shouldn’t have.”
“You made the bracelet then, too, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It would’ve been better if you’d made it after.”
From there the words came pouring out of her.
If she hadn’t used that spell at the beginning. If she had acknowledged Yulia just a little sooner. If, when Yulia came in hiding the axe, she had answered with earth magic instead of flame and at least kept the ice underfoot alive.
For thirty minutes, for an hour, she laid out variations of the same story.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I. At the end I should have just dropped the greed and used something like Wave One.”
Having spilled all of it, Herbena laughed awkwardly.
You lost, you moron. Stop making ugly excuses and apologize. Beg, if you have to.
But she couldn’t do it. She drew her knees up, curled in on herself, and buried her face.
Silence again.
The Young Master must be busy. I have to say it. I have to say it quickly.
She was trembling with anxiety when Blow stroked her hair.
She flinched and lifted her head, and her eyes met her young master’s.
He smiled as if to comfort her.
“Young Master…”
“If you’re sad, be sad. If you’re angry, be angry.”
“……”
“You don’t have to force yourself to act fine.”
The moment she heard it, the shoulders and neck she had hunched so tightly loosened, and tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m sorry…”
“You’re not.”
“Hic… I really wanted to do it without shaming you…”
“It isn’t that you failed. Senior Yulia prepared well.”
“Even so, even so…”
Weeping as if her heart would break, Herbena wrapped her arms around Blow’s waist where he stood and buried her face there.
“I won’t… lose again……”
“Good. Don’t lose.”
Herbena’s crying filled the recovery room.
Jane and Skadi, who had been peering anxiously inside, looked at each other and let out breaths of relief, as if to say it was all right now.