Chapter 405: Finished

Nellie lowered her hand slowly. Her face was pink, and her chest was rising and falling, and she was smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt.

She turned to him, and the smile faltered as it met his eyes, because he was looking at her with such plain, undisguised approval that she felt it all the way down her arms.

Her fingers were still slightly damp from the water arrows.

A drop clung to the cuff of her sleeve.

She was proud of herself. She knew that. For the first time she could remember, she had done something difficult and done it well, and the proof was lying on its side in the dirt ten meters away.

But the pride was a small, quiet, private thing.

The warmth that flooded her chest at the sight of Lor clapping was not small at all. It sat heavy and bright behind her ribs.

Why was that?

Was it that she wanted him to see her succeed?

That she had wanted, all along, for him to look at her like this?

She did not know.

She turned the thought over, found no edge to hold on to, and put it down again.

All she knew was that it felt very, very good. Her ears were hot. The late sun made the packed earth warm under her boots.

She looked at the pot, and at Lor, and a plan formed, simple and bright.

Tomorrow, in the exam, she would do this. She would hit every target.

She would be better than anyone had ever expected, from the back row of Class D, and she would be better than Class C, and she would stand at the front of the stadium and look for his face in the crowd.

She wanted to see what he would do. She wanted to see the look in his eyes when he understood what she had done, and who she had done it for.

He would be so proud of her.

Her ears went hot just thinking about it. She pressed her lips together to keep the smile from growing any wider.

"What?" Lor asked, tilting his head. "Why are you red?"

"N-nothing!" She turned away and fussed with her skirt. "It’s the sun."

She did not understand what she was feeling. She only knew that it had Lor’s name on it.

"Okay," Lor said, dusting off his hands. "That’s it. Guidance finished. You’ve got the basics, and if you practice tonight you’ll have it by tomorrow. Let’s go home."

"Right." Nellie nodded. "Yes. Of course."

She went to retrieve her purse from the crate, brushed the dust from it, and tucked it under her arm.

They walked together toward the gap in the fence, side by side, over the packed earth and past the heaps of rotten wood.

Her braid swung gently.

The late sun slanted through the gaps between the planks and laid long stripes of gold across the ground.

The mist had dried on her sleeve. Her glasses were slightly smudged.

She could still feel the warmth of his hands on her hips from earlier.

They got as far as the broken cart wheels.

Then Nellie stopped.

Lor took two more steps before he noticed, and turned. She was standing with her purse clutched in front of her chest and her eyes on the ground, and her ears glowed.

"Nellie?"

"L-Lor." She drew a breath. "Um. I need to— there’s something I have to say."

"What is it Nellie?"

"Earlier." Her voice was barely a whisper, and it came out in pieces. "At the restaurant. I— I made you— you know. You, um. Finished."

Lor’s eyebrows rose very slightly. "Yes."

"And that was— I wanted that. It was good. But." She twisted the strap of the purse in her fingers. "I didn’t. I wasn’t. I didn’t finish. I wasn’t done."

He blinked.

She looked up at last, her cheeks burning and her eyes wet, and said the rest in a rush. "So you should take responsibility. Please. For that."

The lot was very quiet. Somewhere beyond the fence a cart rattled past.

A vendor was shouting about turnips. The late sun made long shadows across the packed earth.

Lor looked at her for a long moment, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

"All right," he said. "I’ll take responsibility. Right here."

Nellie’s head snapped up. "H-here?" She looked at the open lot, the broken fence, the gaps in the boards where the lane showed through.

"In public? Someone could walk in at any moment. C-can’t we go somewhere private? There must be an inn, or a— or my room, or—"

"I’m a man who believes in fulfilling his responsibilities as soon as possible." His voice was calm and steady, carrying a quiet sense of conviction.

"N-no, but—" Her face burned, and she pressed her purse against her chest. "It’s risky."

"I know." He smiled. "That’s why it’ll be quick."

She opened her mouth and closed it again. Her eyes went to the fence, to the sky, to him. "Quickly, then," she whispered. "Please, let nobody come."

"No promises."

Her knees went weak at once.

He took her by the wrist and pulled her through the heaps of junk to the far corner of the lot, where a pile of splintered cart wheels leaned against the wall and made a narrow pocket of shade.

From the street side it was invisible. From the lane it was only a heap of rubbish.

But the fence was thin there, and through the gaps in its boards he could hear voices, a woman haggling, a child laughing, a man dragging a barrow down the alley no more than three meters away.

The wood of the wheels was rough under her palms when he placed her hands against them.

Nellie heard them too. Her eyes went wide.

"They’re right there."

"They are." Lor turned her around by her shoulders and placed her hands flat against the nearest wheel. "So you’ll have to be very, very quiet."

She made a small, strangled noise and pressed her lips together.

He lifted her pleated skirt in one hand and folded it up over her waist.

She was bare underneath.