The high, feminine voice stopped him in his tracks.
He knew that voice.
Maya von Rakhmonov.
Luka hurried, his feet growing swifter at the sound of what he now could make out was a scuffle. He burst into the little clearing before the fence, his gaze going to the two upperclassmen, one of them standing behind the Rakhmonov girl, while the other had pushed his arm around her waist, past her open jacket.
Rakhmonova was struggling against an invisible hold, and in a flash, Luka realized they were using magic on her. The one behind her looked up, and his eyes went wide, just in time to warn his friend of Luka’s incoming punch.
“What are youdoing?”
The two boys stepped away from Rakhmonova, who still hung suspended in midair, her eyes filling with furious tears as she stared at them all.
“Oh, did you want to go first?” One of the boys sneered as he laughed, and it’s all Luka can do not to kill him where he stood. “I know you’ve wanted to have your revenge on her,” the boy laughed, still oblivious to how far he was tempting fate.
“Let her go,” Luka snapped, shaking with his anger. “How could you—howdareyou—?”
The two boys blinked, and it was if the upperclassmen realized for the first time that he wasn’t going to condone their behavior—or worse, congratulate it.
“We were just going to teach her a lesson,” the leader said, his voice instantly going for entitled petulance. “Just because she gets the top marks, she’s always lording it over all us.” He cut a sly glance at Luka. “Even you, Your Highness. So, we just wanted to teach her a little…respect.” He shrugged. “We didn’t mean any harm.”
“It was just a joke,” the other one said, quickly waving his fingers to release Maya. “You understand, right, Rakhmonova?”
Luka stepped forward, still shaking—
And Rakhmonova struck the boy down with her right hook. She turned to his friend, who had his hands up defensively, and kicked his feet out from under him, advancing on him with a shriek of anger.
“A joke?” she cried, kicking him between the legs. The upperclassman yelped in agony, and she did it again. “Oh yes, very funny!” She went to do it again, and the boy grabbed her ankle. Luka brought his sword down without thought, pulling his balde short of severing the upperclassman’s hand at the wrist. Blood welled up where the point of his sword met skin.
“Let go of Lady von Rakhmonov,” he said, coldly. If Rakhmonova was fiery in her anger, Luka felt like he was becoming encased in ice the longer he stood there. He made his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip. “Now.”
When the boy did it, glaring at them both, Rakhmonova leaned down and knocked him out cold, too.
Luka followed her as she picked up her sword and walked quickly back to the dorms.
“Wait—”
If anything, her steps grew quicker. “Lady von Rakhmonov, wait—”
She turned to face him. Her face was shadowed in the gathering twilight, lit only by the candle light that filtered outside the open windows of the academy. In the dim light, her eyes glinted with unshed tears.
Luka stopped when he noticed them, unsure of what to say next.
“I will accompany you to the dorms,” he said finally.
“No need, Your Highness,” she smiled at him unseeingly. “I’m already here.”
She went into the dorms, and he stared after her with a sigh. Feeling like he had missed the chance for something important, Luka returned to his own rooms. He had much to share with Volkov tonight. He knew his best friend would want to avenge the lady. For all his faults, Volkov was the most loyal friend he had ever known.
Perhaps Luka would even join him. He thought of Rakhmonova’s face in the twilight again, the tears she would not shed, and he clenched his fist.
~
“Punishment, sir?”
The morning after their encounter behind the training grounds, Lord Alexei Utkin looked between Luka and Lady von Rakhmonov, sitting before him in his office, and sighed. “Two weeks of cleaning duty. And an extra hour of swordsmanship practice.” He cleared his throat. “I trust the last one will not be a hardship for you both?”
Luka looked at Rakhmonova, who glared back at their instructor.
