“You make it look so easy,” Gabriella said, sipping at her drink. “I count a dozen pair of eyes boring into your skull, none of them exactly wishing you well, and you still look relaxed.”
“You would like me to beat on my chest and make loud growling noises, yes?” The question made her laugh. It made a nearby Nagelring cadet frown, and Alek lowered his voice. “I can’t help what they think,” he told her.
“But doesn’t it wear on you?”
Alek sipped from the fruity beverage, let it play over his tongue and whisper down his throat. He smiled, almost sadly. “‘Not all of me is dust,’” he quoted. “‘Within my song, safe from the worm, my spirit will survive.’”
“I remember you saying that. Before. Or part of it, anyway.” She set her empty glass on the tray of a passing server. “You draw a great deal of strength from the words of others. How do you do that?”
“I believe.” Alek shrugged. “Because ‘the writer is the engineer of the human soul,’ I can decide how to influence the person I wish to become.”
Gabriella’s eyes softened, sparkled. Her lips parted in a light smile, showing a hint of white teeth. She leaned forward ever so slightly, then caught herself. “Take a walk with me?” she asked, nodding toward one end of the ballroom. Large doors opened through a glass wall onto a formal courtyard, and the university’s gardens beyond.
He swallowed hard. “Of course.”
Hand on arm they strolled along the tables, running into Michael Steiner and Alek’s mother returning from the dance floor. It was Michael’s first chance to speak with Alek since ducking out after the review. He buttonholed Alek while Tronchina exchanged pleasantries with Gabriella.
“Excellent work today, Alek. Old Weldon looked as if he’d swallowed a bug.”
Uncomfortable, Alek shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His father turned up and lead his mother away toward the refreshment tables. Gabriella looked over and smiled a promise to him, then withdrew to leave him a moment with Michael. “I really should thank you again,” Alek said, “for sticking by me, pushing through the academic board review.” He saw a shadow flit over Michael’s usually amiable face. “What?”
“Well, I didn’t push for that. My family connections notwithstanding, as a faculty member I’m responsible to support Dean Albrecht’s decision. It was Colonel Baumgarten who actually swung some weight behind a board review and got you the second chance.”
Baumgarten? “Why did he…”
“Mostly because of your parents, and the fact that you are here on a Star League scholarship.” He smiled. “The military looks after its own, Alek. Even when they don’t necessarily want to be claimed.”
And, Alek realized, Michael had realized well ahead of time that it might take Baumgarten to bring about a review, which answered Alek’s question as to why his friend had brought in the colonel. Alek wrestled with propriety and pride. It wasn’t much of a contest. “Thanks, Michael. I owe you.”
“Ja, you do, wunderkind.” He tipped a wink at Alek. “You can repay me by suffering through the formalities and allowing me to introduce you to my brother at some point.”
“Give me a moment to find my parents,” Alek offered. “I’m sure they would consider it a great honor to—”
“At some point,” Michael said again, interrupting. He placed hands on Alek’s shoulders. “Alek, never keep a lady waiting. Especially one in need of rescuing.” He turned Alek to one side, pointing out Gabriella and Elias Luvon near the edge of the dance floor.
“Right,” Alek agreed, trading clasps with Michael.
Elias had proffered an arm to Gabriella, holding it out for an awkward moment. She looked at him coolly. Alek walked up in time to hear him ask—not for the first time, likely—for a dance. “Alek can spare you for another two minutes, certainly.”
“Not by choice, Elias.” He slipped up to Gabriella’s side, and her hands encircled his upper arm. It felt as if low voltage electrical currents played out of her fingertips, teasing and trembling his skin even through his jacket sleeve.
“You can’t be gracious about this?” Elias glanced to one side, and Alek followed his gaze. Some of Elias’s cadet cronies watched the exchange from the dance floor, already partnered up and waiting for their friend. “Just to show there are no hard feelings?”
Which was almost humorous, considering who offered the olive branch. Alek still harbored a coal of resentment for Elias’s latest tactic, attacking him through his academic standing, but he banked it, smothering the angry burn in layers of calm reasoning.
“You know what? There aren’t any hard feelings. Whatever your problems have been with me, they’re your problems. Not mine.” Elias had obviously thought he heard capitulation in Alek’s words, and began to offer his arm again. But Alek shifted Gabriella back, putting himself slightly in front of her. “But those problems have nothing to do with Gabriella, either. And since I have never shown you hard feelings, I see no reason to demonstrate a lack of them now.” He nodded deeply. “Good eve, Elias.”
Escorting Gabriella away, he felt her reassuring squeeze on his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered after a long moment.
“My pleasure.”
And it had been. Where Alek had felt worse for Professor Kleppinger’s discomfort earlier this day, he could only believe that Elias Luvon had earned whatever loss of face this evening had brought him. A strong man—a future leader of men—would learn from such an experience. Alek hoped that Elias had such character in him.
Perhaps he should have known better and stayed more on his guard. But passing through the glass wall and onto the courtyard with Gabriella on his arm, it felt as if the day’s entire troubles simply drained away.
