Chapter 136: The Final Morning
By the time Arthur made it downstairs for breakfast, Nessa had somehow transformed back into the perfectly composed senior maid who had definitely not spent part of the night with her uniform twisted around her waist.
Nessa was nowhere near him when he entered the dining room. Kael, unfortunately, was.
"I’m telling you, losing to Corwin repeatedly has given me information nobody else here has."
Arthur was still fastening one cuff as he walked in. Kael stood beside the table with half a piece of bread in his hand, apparently using breakfast to demonstrate sword angles, while Adrian continued eating as though this had already been happening for several minutes.
"It has certainly given you experience losing to Corwin," Adrian said.
Emily laughed into her drink.
Arthur dropped into the chair beside her. She bumped her knee against his under the table, stole a piece of fruit from his plate before he had touched anything, and turned back toward Kael as if both actions were completely ordinary.
"Good. You’re here," Kael said.
Arthur looked at the bread. "Should I be worried?"
"I’ve developed a plan."
Adrian swallowed another bite. "Several."
Kael ignored him and continued tracing an imaginary path through the air, explaining how Corwin liked to keep people at the edge of his saber range. Arthur let him talk for nearly half a minute before finally interrupting.
"How many times have you actually lost to him?"
Kael lowered the bread. "That’s not relevant."
"It feels extremely relevant," Emily said.
Nessa came through from the adjoining room while Kael was defending the educational value of repeated defeat. Her uniform was immaculate again, her hair pinned neatly enough that Arthur almost admired the effort.
Almost.
His eyes dropped briefly toward her skirt.
Nessa caught him.
Nothing changed in her expression. She simply crossed behind Emily, took Arthur’s forgotten tournament glove from her apron pocket, and placed it beside his plate.
"You left this upstairs."
Arthur looked at the glove, then at her. "I was distracted."
"Clearly."
She continued toward the kitchen without another glance.
Kael waved the bread directly in Arthur’s line of sight. "Are you hearing any of this?"
"Unfortunately."
Kael resumed his explanation, insisting Corwin always gave ground the same way when pressured from the inside.
"No, he doesn’t," Emily said.
Kael frowned at her.
"He did that once against me. The next time he gave me the same opening, I followed it and walked straight into the counter."
Arthur paused with his cup halfway to his mouth.
Adrian nodded. "He did something similar yesterday. Same beginning, different ending. Once he sees what answer you’ve prepared, he stops giving you the movement you prepared it for."
Kael pointed the bread at Adrian. "That is basically what I was saying."
"It wasn’t."
Gareth had stayed out of the conversation until then. He finished his drink, set the cup down, and looked across the table at Arthur.
"Don’t fight yesterday’s matches."
Darius. Marek. Kael.
Each fight had eventually given Arthur something he could use. Corwin had spent yesterday watching all three of them.
Arthur nodded once and went back to breakfast.
Seraphina finally ended Kael’s lesson by informing him that Arthur still had to check in before the officials decided the finalist had gone missing. Chairs scraped back, Gareth and Adrian headed toward the entrance, and Kael continued talking even while collecting his jacket.
Arthur had barely reached the hall before Emily caught the front of his collar and straightened a fold he hadn’t noticed.
"I’m not telling you to avenge me."
"Disappointing. I had a speech prepared."
She rolled her eyes, kissed him quickly, then kept hold of his collar for another second. "Just don’t let him make you chase him."
"That sounds suspiciously like advice."
"Then forget I said it."
She released him and followed the others outside.
Nessa was near the entrance checking something with one of the junior staff. Her eyes moved briefly over Arthur’s tournament jacket as he passed.
"Still intact," Arthur murmured.
"I was checking the jacket."
Arthur smiled.
Nessa had already turned back to her work before he could make the obvious answer.
Kael continued offering tactical wisdom for the first few minutes of the drive until Seraphina finally ordered him to let Arthur think. Adrian looked relieved.
Arthur spent the rest of the trip watching the city slide past the window and sorting through what little certainty he actually had. Corwin had seen the Marek setup. He had watched Arthur manipulate Kael’s expectations. More importantly, he knew Arthur liked turning repeated responses into traps.
Corwin had seen enough to expect the bait by now. Arthur needed to see what he was expecting before giving him anything useful.
The difference outside the arena was obvious before Arthur even got out of the car. Yesterday’s late rounds had thinned the crowd considerably; this morning the entrance plaza was packed again, with lines feeding toward every gate and clusters of dojo uniforms filling the broad steps.
The Thorne group had barely joined the flow when someone farther ahead called Arthur’s name.
He looked up automatically.
Two men near the rail were already looking at him.
"That’s Vance."
"The one who beat Kael?"
Beside him, Kael made a wounded sound. "I hate this tournament."
Emily patted his shoulder without slowing down.
It happened again before they reached the competitor entrance. One of the younger Thorne trainees waved from the queue. Another spectator turned after hearing Arthur’s name. By the time he reached the inner corridor, Arthur was becoming uncomfortably aware that considerably more people knew who he was than they had two days ago.
Marek Holt was leaning near the competitor gate.
"Still teaching people to block the wrong attack?"
Arthur slowed. "Trying some new material today."
Marek glanced through the open gate toward the preparation area. "Probably wise."
Arthur followed his gaze and found Corwin already warming up.
Corwin eventually glanced over while Arthur tightened one of his armor straps near the equipment racks.
"Your family give you advice?"
Arthur looked toward the stands, where Kael was apparently demonstrating something to an increasingly unimpressed Emily. "Far too much."
Corwin laughed once. "Good. No excuses afterward."
"I’ll remember that when you start making yours."
"I wouldn’t count on it."
The official called for their weapons before the exchange could go any farther. Arthur handed over his approved dagger, waiting for the clearance mark. Once they handed it back, he checked the grip, testing the weight with one short Silent Knife transition.
Corwin’s eyes followed the movement for a moment before returning to his own saber. Arthur said nothing.
The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena speakers. An official directed Arthur and Corwin toward the center ring.
Kael shouted from the Thorne section as Arthur stepped onto the mat. "DON’T DO WHAT I DID!"
"That removes too many options!" Emily yelled back.
Arthur nearly laughed. Corwin heard it clearly and grinned as he walked to his mark.
The referee checked both fighters, confirming they were ready.
The whistle blew.
The reach difference became obvious almost immediately. Every time Arthur tried to enter directly, the longer weapon appeared in the space before him and forced him either to redirect or give ground.
Arthur tested the inside twice, dipped under the saber once, then tried to slip around the outside, but Corwin never chased far enough to compromise his balance. He simply moved with him, keeping the saber between them and making Arthur spend effort for every half-step of useful distance.
Arthur eventually showed him a piece of the same footwork he had used against Marek. Corwin reacted exactly as expected, turning his guard just enough to expose the line Arthur had exploited before.
The opening was almost too clean.
Arthur checked himself.
A moment later Corwin closed the line and gave him the faintest smile.
So that had been deliberate.
Arthur began giving Corwin less to work with. Half a step inside, the turn of a shoulder, the beginning of a retreat—each movement ended before it became a full commitment. Several exchanges passed without either of them scoring. Corwin kept enough distance to avoid being pulled into anything decisive, while Arthur continued feeding him movements that never quite became attacks.
Arthur finally gave ground far enough to tempt a pursuit. Corwin followed, his saber pressing him backward across two quick steps.
Arthur prepared the same turning response that had worked against Kael.
Corwin stopped.
Arthur had already begun shifting his weight, and without Corwin driving into him, the turn carried him farther than he wanted.
Corwin saw it immediately. The saber changed direction before Arthur could recover and cracked against his shoulder.
The whistle cut through the arena, and the referee immediately pointed toward Corwin.
The crowd reacted with a surge of noise. Kael immediately objected from the stands, and Emily told him to sit down.
Arthur rolled his shoulder once as he returned to his mark. The touch had barely stung. Corwin had simply caught him expecting a movement that never came.
Across the ring, Corwin settled back into guard as though nothing particularly interesting had happened.
Arthur adjusted his grip.
This time the smile came before he could stop it.
Corwin noticed. "Something funny?"
"Maybe."
The referee raised his hand.
The whistle sounded again.
This time, Arthur went forward first.