He nodded. “You?” A shrug. “Gabriella. I never meant for—”
“I know.” She cut him off with a quick shake of her head. Auburn hair whispered across her shoulders. The silence lengthened. She hugged herself around her middle. Awkward. Closed.
“Elias will be fine,” she finally said.
Michael had already told him as much. Elias was in the critical care facility of the local hospital, in stable condition after the staff took care of some internal bleeding and reinflated his right lung. He’d be there for several days, under observation. He wouldn’t be coming back for classes.
Gabriella had heard the same thing. “Looks like you won,” she said.
It didn’t feel that way to Alek. “No. I lost.”
She looked down at the carpeted hall. “I can’t get the picture out of my head. Everything changed so quickly.” She looked up, her soft doe eyes full of uncertainty. “I wanted it to be different.”
“Circumstance and accident often conspire against what we want.”
She forced the ghost of a smile. “Who said that?”
“Me.” Alek didn’t smile. He had nearly killed Elias Luvon. Accident or no, it weighed heavily. “Gabriella. I—”
“Alek, I just wanted to see you. Tell you I wish it were different. Everything had been going so well. I want…wanted…but now…”
“I know,” he offered, feeling very tired. “Me too.”
“Thank you.” She stepped into him, arms still between them as she leaned in close. Her breath was warm and sweet, and her eyes sad as she brushed dry lips over Alek’s cheek.
It was his first kiss from Gabriella Bailey.
To say good-bye.
• • •
Alek spent most of his days in a virtual bubble of isolation. Mostly of his own doing. The Nagelring cadets pretended he did not exist, except for one who made a point of staking out the PoliSci hall and offering a formal apology first to Gabriella, and then Alek. Other students also forwarded tentative apologies for their previous hassling, or else wanted to hear more details about the night of the Formal and thought that Alek would be into the gossip. He ignored both equally.
Lunches were still taken with Michael Steiner, and it was through Michael that Alek forwarded his request for a meeting with Colonel Baumgarten. Michael had the impeccable manners not to say a thing at the time, though he invited himself along the following evening, showing up at the apartment with the colonel and a bottle of good Lyran wine as a gift to Alek’s parents.
His mother played hostess, seating everyone in the small living room, passing out warm bread slathered with honey and pouring the wine. Alek’s father stood behind his son’s chair, hands on the backrest, encouraging but silent as Alek first asked after Elias Luvon.
“Recovering,” Baumgarten said. The officer still looked more of an accountant than a warrior, and ran through the report as if he were checking off a list. “Good prognosis for a full recovery. Very quiet about what happened that night. Refusing to meet with any other students or cadets. And expelled from the Nagelring.”
“Expelled?” Alek blinked twice. After all the cover-ups and dismissed investigations, he had not expected that. Had not even wished for it, in fact.
Baumgarten leaned forward. “We put a great deal of stock in personal conduct at the Nagelring, Alek. Accidents and a few minor transgressions we might overlook. But a pattern of abuse?” He shook his head. “I would hope you thought better of us than that.”
Alek took a small bite of the heavy bread, letting the honey sit on his tongue a moment before swallowing. “I think very highly of the Nagelring and the Star League Defense Force, Colonel. But who…” He glanced at Michael Steiner.
Michael smiled serenely, very much at peace with himself. “Not a word from me, Alek, until Colonel Baumgarten asked directly. He already knew at that point. Apparently one of the cadets present that night came clean.”
The dark haired one who had held Gabriella back. The one who had formally apologized to both of them. He asked, and Baumgarten nodded.
“Patrick Ward. Ja. On his testimony the Cadet Honor Board also expelled the other two, who attempted to bluff their way out of trouble. Patrick is on probation.” He set aside his untouched wine. “But you really didn’t ask me here to go over Nagelring protocols, did you?”
“In a way, sir. Yes.” Alek stood, glanced at his mother and father who both smiled thin encouragement. They excused themselves from the room, leaving Alek alone with the two men. “I wish to formally apply to the Nagelring, per your earlier invitation.”
Baumgarten did not appear surprised. “Lord Steiner suggested you might ask after that,” he admitted. “I have to say, I thought it unlikely. I thought you did your fighting with words? ‘Education is a weapon.’ Isn’t that what you said?”
That and more. Alek winced. “There is only a small difference between believing that, Colonel, and living by it. That difference nearly cost someone his life. When it truly mattered, I failed.”
Michael shook his head. “You defended yourself, Alek. Don’t beat yourself up over that.”
“If I’m going to defend myself physically at all, I should learn how.” That was the realization Alek had come to during his self-enforced isolation; that he had been fighting back against Elias Luvon for months without knowing it. Every verbal jab. His entire self-righteous attitude toward confrontation. And then, in a moment of frustration and anger, he had lashed out unconditionally. No thought or decision to it.
And that frightened Alek more than anything else.
Not all of him was dust, but he was not necessarily safe from the worm.
He tried to explain that to Colonel Baumgarten, who at least nodded as if he understood. “Still, you should think this over. Take some time, Alek.”
“I hurt Elias Luvon without taking time to think. Colonel, I’ve made my decision. If the Nagelring will still have me.”
Baumgarten stood, paced a tight box around the room
