The names landed together on the slate, and Arthur, watching from the sidelines with the rest of the cohort not currently paired, felt a small, distinct sense of foreboding settle into his chest that had nothing to do with the actual danger of the exercise.
SUT: Marchant. Tanner.
Elsie crossed to the ring first, rolling her shoulders with the particular easy looseness of someone entirely unbothered by the pairing, and Yseult followed a moment later, twirling her practice sword once in her grip with a flourish that seemed designed purely for effect.
YSE: Well. This should be illuminating.
ELS: Should it?
YSE: I find duels tell you a great deal about a person. Their instincts. Their priorities. Who they're really performing for.
She said the last part with a small, pointed glance toward the sidelines, toward Arthur specifically, and Elsie followed her gaze, and Arthur, catching both of them looking at him at once, suddenly found the practice sword in his own hands fascinating enough to warrant intense study.
ELS: I'm not performing for anyone.
YSE: Neither am I.
ELS: You just said duels reveal who people perform for.
YSE: I said it reveals things. I didn't say it was flattering. Shall we?
SUT: Begin.
Elsie opened fast, faster than Arthur had expected, her strikes carrying an economy that suggested genuine training rather than natural talent alone, and Yseult, meeting the first exchange, gave ground with a small, surprised laugh.
YSE: Oh, you're good.
ELS: You sound surprised.
YSE: I'm delighted, actually. I do so hate an easy contest.
She came back harder than her casual tone suggested, and the duel settled into a real rhythm, strikes and counters trading with genuine skill on both sides, and Arthur, watching from the ring's edge, found himself tensing with each exchange despite knowing, rationally, that practice blades and Instructor Sutton's watchful presence meant neither of them was in any real danger. Beside him, Briar leaned over with obvious interest.
BRR: This is better than I expected.
ART: Elsie's been training since before I was.
BRR: Has she? I hadn't realized.
ART: Her brother started her early. Wind's not much use in close combat if you can't also hold your ground with a blade.
Across the ring, Yseult landed a strike that forced Elsie to give a full step of ground, and immediately glanced toward the sidelines, toward Arthur, with an expression that seemed to be checking whether the point had properly registered. Arthur, caught looking, quickly looked back at the duel itself instead. Elsie noticed the exchange.
ELS: You're checking if he saw that.
YSE: I have no idea what you mean.
ELS: You very obviously looked right at him after that strike.
YSE: I was simply confirming my footing. It's good technique to reassess your surroundings mid-duel.
ELS: Your surroundings are a training yard. Arthur is not part of your surroundings.
YSE: Isn't he?
She said it lightly, almost teasingly, and pressed forward with a fresh combination that Elsie met with visible effort, and for a moment the duel's intensity climbed genuinely higher, both of them fully absorbed in the actual contest, before Elsie, parrying a strike aimed high, used the recovery to glance toward the sidelines herself. Arthur, watching, felt something click into place with faint horror.
ART: They're both doing it.
BRR: Doing what?
ART: Checking. They're both checking to see if I'm watching.
Briar looked between the ring and Arthur with dawning delight.
BRR: This is the best training exercise I've ever witnessed.
FNN: What's happening, what did I miss?
Finn had arrived mid-exchange, breathless from whatever had previously occupied him, and dropped into the space beside Briar with immediate, total attention on the duel.
BRR: They're fighting for Arthur's attention. Sort of. While also genuinely trying to win.
FNN: Simultaneously?
BRR: Apparently.
FNN: That's incredible. That's genuinely the most efficient use of a training exercise I've ever seen.
In the ring, Elsie caught Yseult's next strike on a tight parry and used the momentum to spin inside her guard, forcing a clean disengage that drew a small, appreciative sound from the watching crowd, and Yseult, stepping back to reset, allowed herself, for just a moment, a look of genuine respect.
YSE: You really are good.
ELS: I told you.
YSE: You did. I chose not to fully believe you. That was likely an error.
She came again, and this time there was less theater in it, both of them settling into something closer to a genuine contest, strikes trading with real focus, and Arthur, watching, found the earlier awkwardness of being watched-for-being-watched giving way to something he could only describe as pure appreciation, two people he cared about, in different ways, being genuinely, impressively skilled at something in front of him. He must have let that show on his face, because when Elsie, several exchanges later, finally glanced his way again, her expression shifted into something warmer at whatever she found there, and Yseult, following the look with her usual sharp attention, caught the same thing and smiled a small, private smile of her own. The duel ended not with a decisive blow but with Instructor Sutton calling time, both of them breathing hard, practice swords lowered, the exercise having run its allotted length without either fully overcoming the other.
SUT: Even match. Both of you, good work. Marchant, watch your footwork on the recovery, you're leaving your leading leg exposed. Tanner, solid throughout.
He moved on to the next pairing, and Elsie and Yseult crossed toward the ring's edge together, both flushed and grinning despite themselves, the earlier tension of the contest dissolved into something closer to mutual, grudging camaraderie.
YSE: Good match.
ELS: You too. Your footwork really is bad on the recovery.
YSE: I heard him the first time, thank you.
They reached Arthur and the others, and Yseult, still catching her breath, looked at him with an expression that had lost none of its earlier directness.
YSE: Well? Verdict?
ART: You were both incredible.
YSE: That's diplomatic. I want a verdict, not diplomacy.
ELS: Yseult.
YSE: What? I'm curious. There's no shame in curiosity.
Arthur, caught between the two of them and Finn and Briar's openly delighted attention, felt the particular helpless warmth of a situation with no safe answer available, and settled, in the end, for the only honest thing he had.
ART: I don't think I'm qualified to pick a winner between two people who are both better with a blade than I expected either of you to be.
YSE: That's still diplomatic.
ART: It's also true.
She studied him for a moment, and then laughed, bright and genuine, apparently satisfied enough with the answer to let the matter drop, and Elsie, beside her, caught Arthur's eye one more time with something unreadable and warm settling behind her usual easy grin.
FNN: I'm keeping a tally of this too, by the way.
BRR: Of what?
FNN: I don't know yet. Something. This feels important.