Sain Clare Academy (gxg, 18+)

Chapter Forty-two

I had been going behind Grace's back a bit when it came to the royal knights. When she was asleep I'd sneak out, and they'd be assembled as per my orders. The first day a few had been missing-- I'd dragged them out and punished them in front of everyone with as many pushups as they could do until they collapsed in front of me. And then I made them do it again.

No one was late anymore.

They stood stiff as a board in front of me, the leader stepping forward and saluting.

"GREETINGS, HIGH MAGE," came the cacophony of knights. I smiled.

"The lady is sleeping-- with voices like that, you're bound to wake the whole town. Be more conscientious."

"YES MA'AM," the leader chirped, slightly quieter this time, eyes forward in the traditional pose of attention.

"You know what to do, Knight Rhys. I'll be observing again." Every night I had been putting the knights through strict training.

It wasn't that they weren't well-trained, in fact, they were some of the most well-honed warriors in the kingdom. They knew how to fight.

But to be useful to Grace, they needed to be better than the best.

I had been putting them through thorough training-- hell-like physical training in the fields east of the inn, rigorous information and field operation training, as well as magical protection and discipline.

"Knight!" I barked as a familiar face passed by; I remembered his slightly lower scores-- though still exceptional-- from the last information seminar. "Remember those you serve! You will excel for the lady and for your country, and above all else, for your comrades; I expect to see you achieve the highest scores of the night."

"YES MA'AM," more than a few knights chorused. It was good to know that they were looking out for each other.

...

The next morning, I found Grace at the field the knights had been training in last night. Mud formed around shapes of boots, forearms and hands, hardened from the night's chill.

"Good morning, my lady. What brings you out here so early?"

She stared forward, surveying the scene. Then, she turned.

"Good work," was all she said. I smiled-- of course she would notice the change in the demeanor of the knights over the past few days. I hadn't expected her to realize it was my doing, but I suppose it was like her to notice. Only a noble like Grace would praise someone for doing their job. I was a High Mage, in charge of her land's defense, and subsequently, her defense.

She nodded once, placing a hand on my shoulder as she passed me, and my knees felt like they might buckle at her touch. The energy between us was electric, prickling between her fingertips and my shoulder. I forced a smile on my face as she lifted her hand, willing my racing heart to still. I could see her form, slender and powerful underneath her royal clothing, her cold eyes not meeting mine, beautiful and shimmering in the light of the rising morning sun. Her fanning out across her back like a curtain of silver. The entire trip we had been dancing around each other like this, looking but not quite looking, speaking but not quite speaking... touching, but not quite touching. Professional and impassive.

"Grace," I found myself saying, as if against my will. Her eyes moved to meet mine, and I almost fell backward at the intense emotions blooming from the simple action of her eyes meeting mine.

She looked cool and professional, as always.

With her eyes staring so directly into mine, like they never did except when I was Olivia, I felt like a drowning man tasting the salty air after the sea breaks over his face. I realized then how addicted I was to the feeling of Oliva seeing me, really seeing me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Yes?" She said. She didn't scold me for my lack of respect, for using her first name instead of a title.

"I... I hope that my lady knows how much everyone respects her," I said, truthfully, taking a step back.

She waved a dismissive hand, staring off at the horizon behind me.

"They respect my title-- I have done nothing to garner their respect yet." The way she said it-- it seemed as if she really believed it. The Grace I knew, the epidemy of justice, thought her actions were inadequate. 

I caught my breath, something rising into my heart and my head.

"That's not! That's not true," I protested, voice a whisper because of how close we were. I don't know how it had happened-- one second she was feet away from me, the next our bodies were mere inches apart. If I inched my arm forward just a bit I would be able to feel the shifting of her muscles beneath her clothes. Both of us so close to each other, yet consciously keeping distance; it was dizzying, just like everything was when Grace Belloway was involved.

"Grace, you work exceptionally hard," I told her, low, "you deserve people who know how to serve you. This is... this is nothing compared to what you really deserve." I stopped, emotion clogging my throat and rendering me useless.

Then she was looking at me again, deep into my eyes, and I couldn't think anymore.

"Morgan," she started, carefully, guarded. "I... overheard the conversation between you and Miss Niel."

Oh.

Oh.

I recalled my conversation with Katarina, the most emotional bits had always clogged my mind.

"You know what's worse? What's impossibly worse? The Duke requested I work at his residence as a mage." My laugh was dark and wet. "After everything, after running my name to the ground, trampling on my father's innocence once again, after stripping me of my honor and happiness, I am forced to work for the bloodline that sentenced my family to their deaths in the first place." 

"I was the one who called for you here," Grace spoke, her voice cracking into something like regret. "I was the one who made you relive that trauma again. I was the one who forced you back here."

"Oh Grace," I said, so low the words barely escaped my lips. She stood firm, strong against everything, but something in the way she held her shoulders upright felt incredibly fragile to me.

"You... sacrificed so much for me. You were forced into this inheritance war by my father, had your life and your family name and your career ruined again because of it-- had to see my brother, my family, me, the very people who... who..." Her perfect mask broke, and without my consent, my body moved.

I slotted her in my arms, bringing my arms up to rub her back as she whispered her apologies into my ear. She fell against me, clenching her fists against my back and falling silent.

A moment passed.

"You really are the same," she murmured, so low I wasn't sure she had spoken at all.

You really are the same, she had said. Olivia.

Then she pulled back, smiled, and was gone.

I watched her go, eyes tracing over her form before squeezing shut. A cough, and blood dripped down my chin and onto the front of my robe. I turned away.

A/N:

Sorry for being so inconsistent with my updates, haha. This is to make up for that ;)